Tales from the Man who would be King

© 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

Continuing on from Part 2, here is the third set of topics!

Emigration and Citizenship

In mid-1979, I left Adelaide, Australia, for what was intended to be a 5-year trip around the world, after which I'd settle down back in Australia, in either Sydney or Melbourne. After vacationing in Asia and Europe for five weeks, I started work in the US, and 45 years later, I'm still here! [I often tell people that I came for a look around, but there was so much to see, I'm still looking!] And in 2008, I became a US citizen. (See my essay, "April 2010: The Road to US Citizenship.")

Lessons learned:

• "The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence!" Well, that might be why some of us travel or relocate, but when we go back to our previous place/country, we may well find that the grass there is quite green too! We just never noticed when we lived there. As for me, each time I go back to Australia, I spend quite a bit of my time visiting states and places I'd not been to when I lived there. [Interestingly, to this day, I have not yet visited the Aussie capital, Canberra!]
• When nationalists here in the US go on a rant about immigration, and I point out to them that I am an immigrant, they generally exclude me from that "non-preferred" bunch, because I'm white, university educated, and a native English speaker. Of course, they are descended from immigrants, but they don't think of themselves being like "all these present-day interlopers coming to our country!"
• There are people who think one should not have more than one citizenship/passport. (I have two: Australian and American, and I know people who have three and even four!) As best as I can tell, these same people have never emigrated, so have never been faced with the option. I say, "Why not have as many choices in life as you can?"
• In all my worldly travels, I've never encountered people more (seemingly) patriotic than Americans, although I do see people in some other countries fly their flag on a regular basis. (That said, as was recently mentioned to me by a long-time, American-born friend, and I paraphrase, "Many Americans do not understand that patriotism is not proven by simply wearing the flag and claiming to be patriots. In nations I have visited I see many flags, but people are more reserved about their feelings toward their country and do not feel the need to loudly display and announce like Americans do." Hmm; some food for thought.)
• While there were immigrants in my hometown in the late 60's, and children thereof in my high school, I never thought much about immigration or indeed Australia's one-time White Australia Policy. Then, in 2023, I watched a 6-part documentary on immigration to Australia, filmed around 1980. It was most educational and explained a lot of things I'd witnessed, but had not paid attention to at the time.
• I've been to more than a few third-world areas, and based on conditions there and the luxurious view of America from movies, TV, and advertising, I understand why so many people want to move to the US. However, I can't help but feel that most of them who do come are taken advantage of by their own people already here, as well as by others, and don't get to realize their dreams. In fact, more than a few of them are worse off!
• Fortunately, I can buy in the US, at a decent price, Vegemite and Violet Crumble bars, so occasionally I can enjoy a little piece of home! In fact, as I write this, I'm chewing a Mintie.

Food

I freely admit that I am addicted to eating, and have been doing it up to three times a day (not counting snacks) for 70 years. I used to think about the next meal, but some years ago, I started thinking about the meal after that as well. See my essay, "April 2017: Oh, the Things that I have eaten," especially the sections, "Things Not on my Menu," and "So, Just What do I Love to Eat?"

Lessons learned:

• I've learned about foreign foods while traveling abroad, and added them to my regular diet back home. (One example is nashi, an apple-like pear I discovered in Japan.)
• If it feels good, do it! And if it tastes good, eat it!
• Don't let your meals interfere with your snacks!
• Not all red sauces are ketchup (AU: tomato sauce)!
• While the US makes pretty good nuclear weapons and handguns, they don't know about meat pies, pasties, and sausage rolls, or about thickened cream or proper custard!

The Importance of Backing Up Your Electronic Files

I'm not talking about securing your house or your physical stuff; I'm talking about the personal stuff you've worked on for many hours. That is, your photos, home videos, email, and other personal files. (See the section Let's Backup a Bit in my essay, "December 2010: Technology, Unplugged – Part 2."

Lessons learned:

• If it's worth doing, it's worth protecting!
• After every hour (if not more often) of document editing and/or data entry, I backup my work to three different memory sticks! Yes, call me anal, but this long-time approach has served me well. See the first bullet above!
• When you make a series of snapshots of a file, don't call each version the same name, as that means each new version will overwrite the previous one. Add an ascending numeric suffix, so you'll have the whole history of the document's evolution.
• Whatever your backup strategy, you'll need non-trivial discipline to actually put it into practice.
• Saying , "I only made a few changes now, so no need to make a backup copy" is the first step to disaster. See the first bullet above!
• Many years after I had a textbook published, I set about revising it. However, I could find no copy of one of the chapters. (I had a hard copy, but re-entering the text and formatting it would take a lot of my time.) Eventually, I found a very old 5¼" floppy disk hidden away, which contained the final text of that book. However, when I put the disk in the drive, it wouldn't spin; it had seized up! So, I carefully cut open the vinyl case, took out the disk—which was very definitely quite floppy—put it back in, and after some moaning and groaning, it spun up and I was able to recover the file.
• My monthly computer backup involves making three copies of all active data, onto separate external drives, one of which resides in my bank's safe-deposit box, one in my personal safe, and the other in my office. See the first bullet above!
• Quite often, I see people flipping through the thousands of photos on their mobile phone. I wonder how many of them have a backup copy on their own separate device. See the first bullet above!
• Lots of people rely on the "cloud," whatever that is. Given how often major and minor sites get hacked, I refuse to store permanently any important personal or business data in the cloud. From time to time, however, I will share an important file on a cloud-based platform, but the receiver usually has a short time to retrieve it before I remove it.
• An all-too-frequent thing I've heard over the years is, "Sorry I haven't been in touch; I lost my [electronic] contacts list!" See the first bullet above!

Record Keeping

I've always been a diligent keeper of various kinds of records, and once I got my own PC, most of them were stored electronically. (I've been using Quicken since 1993, and, frankly, I can't imagine doing without an equivalent tool.) Now if your life requires only a simple financial structure you might be able to get away with putting all your receipts in a shoebox under your bed and sorting through them when it comes time to prepare your income tax return. However, I have never been accused of being normal. I've had rental properties, invoicing of clients, a large set of business expenses categories, and numerous kinds of investments. And as I have to pay estimated taxes at the end of each quarter, I need to be able to pull together information for that purpose.

Here are some simple, but useful, questions to ask yourself regarding your approach to financial record keeping. Do you have any realistic idea how much you paid for groceries last year? For gasoline for your car(s)? Automotive repairs? Various kinds of insurance? Eating out? What is your net worth? And the list goes on and on.

Lessons learned:

• It takes non-trivial effort to enter all your financial transactions—in my case, both personal and business—into some sort of financial-tracking system. However, the payback comes with the ability to report on that information. Having such an ability can be instructive. Without it, you're only guessing, and you cannot come up with any sort off accurate budget.
• By keeping my records up to date each month, the last month in the tax year is just another month; there is nothing special to do for tax preparation.
• It takes serious discipline to enter your financial transactions. One of the main causes of potential error is having different spellings for the same entity, such as a payee name and payment purpose. Computers being exact, when you ask for a report on all transactions to do with "Acme Corporation," it will not find those for "ACME Corporation" "Acme Corp." or just plain old "Acme," or some other variation that is intended to be the same. Now a good financial management tool will allow you to clone an older transaction and change its date and amount, preserving all the other data that doesn't change, but could have if you had re-entered it using a different spelling or even transposed two adjacent letters as you typed.

In the US, one can claim a tax deduction for automobile mileage, road tolls, and parking for the following kinds of activities: business, volunteer work, and medical travel (as in driving to medical appointments). However, this requires that you also account for all personal usage, so if audited, they can detect possible cheating. For this purpose, I have a mileage log booklet in each of my cars, but their detailed information is not stored on any computer. At the end of each tax year, using a calculator, I manually add up the category totals for each car, and combine them.

As for keeping current detailed instructions for my executor as to all my records, see my essay, "October 2013: Last Writes."

Shooting and Editing Video

See my essay, "May 2012: Shooting and Editing Home Video."

The Fine Arts

According to Wikipedia, "Historically, the five main fine arts were painting, sculpture, architecture, music, and poetry."

By the time I finished high school at age 16, I'd visited maybe two or three museums and no art galleries! However, in the 50+ years since, I've repeatedly visited such places in an attempt to change my inherent philistine nature! (See my 4-Part series, "A Little Bit of Kulcha," from 2013: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.)

Simply stated, I have absolutely no background in appreciation of the arts.

Lessons learned:

• Apparently, I oftentimes have my taste in my mouth!
• What do I like? I know it when I see it, and don't ask me to explain why I like or dislike it!
• I don't want to be told how to interpret something. I have no time for art or music critics and their generally pompous manner. "Was he off his meds when he painted/wrote this?" I don't know, and I don't care!
• Apparently, lines of poetry don't have to rhyme; really!
• I do like a good limerick. Try this on for size! "There was a young man from the sticks, who took to writing limericks. But he gave up the sport, 'cos he wrote them too short."
• I can appreciate certain pieces of art that I have seen in person; for example, one of van Gough's self-portraits made up of dots, the Mona Lisa (small as it is!), and Hieronymus Bosch's triptych, "Garden of Earthly Delights."
• I've admired more than a few buildings and pieces of sculpture.
• There is a lot of music I like/love, and probably just as much that I don't. (See my essay from November 2021, "A Little Bit of Music .")
• In general, opera, ballet, and modern dance don't interest me; however, I've enjoyed my share of Gilbert and Sullivan.
• Once I learned of its existence, I eagerly sought out Hundertwasserhaus, an apartment building in Vienna, Austria.
• During a stay in Florence, I did enjoy looking at Michelangelo's very much larger-than-life David.

Theater

I attended some quite small schools in rural South Australia. One had only 28 students in seven grades. As such, everyone participated in a school play, sometimes taking on multiple roles. Although my high school staged a play each year, this was not part of the curriculum; rather, it was an after-school activity, and as I rode a bus home and there were no "late buses," I was not able to participate. In my rural hometown area, I attended no more than one public concert per year. (A perennial favorite traveling show was one headed by Harold Raymond, a blind violinist.)

Once I moved to my state's capital, Adelaide, and had some discretionary income, I bought season tickets to the Festival Center Playhouse (now called the Dunstan Playhouse). This gave me the chance to see performances that I likely would not have attended otherwise, although some were quite uninteresting. (During one performance, a group of so-called hijackers stormed the theater claiming they were taking command of the jumbo jet in which we were all supposedly flying.)

Lessons learned:

• Apparently, I sometimes have my taste in my mouth!
• What do I like? I know it when I see it, and don't ask me to explain why I like or dislike it!
• Never pass through London, England, without attending at least two or three performances. And during intermission and at the end, do take a good look around the often beautifully restored interior. I have had the distinct pleasure of seeing well-known actors "treading the boards": Vanessa Redgrave, Dianna Rigg, Edward Fox, David Suchet, and Dawn French are examples. Buy your tickets at the Leicester Square Half-Price Ticket booth.
• After 9/11, many people did not want to fly, so airline ticket prices plummeted. As a result, I found that I could fly from Washington DC to London, stay some days, and go to the theater there, cheaper than if I took the train to New York City for theater there.
• I very much enjoy live theater, be it amateur or professional, especially in small, intimate settings.

Exercise and Health

During my late teens, I played Australian Rules Football at a state-wide level (see my essay from January 2020, "Football, Aussie Style.") While exercise for that was necessary, it was never enjoyable.

For the next fifty years, my exercise came through physical labor or walking, but never through any sort of training program. And I've never really tried to follow any sort of diet. In recent years, I started going to my local indoor swimming pool where I performed various water-aerobics moves and a bit of swimming. Only on very rare occasions did I feel better afterwards than before. However, one day (around age 68), I felt like I was "in the zone." That is, I had reached the magical place about which many athletes speak. However, it only ever happened that one time, although on several other occasions I got close to repeating the sensation.

When I see someone running, I ask if anyone is chasing them. If not, will they end up where they started? If so, why not just stay there?

Lessons learned:

• Exercising is highly overrated; you can hurt yourself. Better that you stay in bed, or at least, at home, inside!
• When I see someone running, I ask them to run a little extra for me, as there is no point in the both of us getting all sweaty.
• When I discovered a small pool in a neighboring town, I started going once a week, then two, and finally, three. However, while pretty much everyone else swims for an hour, I limit myself to 30 minutes. Less is too little; more is too much. I do six laps (six times up and back, that is). I can see the end right from the start. After 1 lap, I'm one-sixth done, then one-third, one-half, two-thirds, five-sixths, and done! More than that feels like work, and who wants to do that!
• When I hiked the 187 miles of the Thames Path with a backpack (see my essay from July 2011, "A Walk along the River"), I found that that path doesn't always run downhill like the river it follows!
• Why do they call it "practicing" medicine? Haven't they already mastered it? Hearing the doctor say, "Let's try this and see if it works," does not give me confidence.
• It's best not to ride one's brand new motorcycle when one has an arm in a sling and a bunch of deep stitches in one's forearm.
• I don't care for injection needles at all, and that probably started at age 16 when I had 20 teeth extracted in three sittings. There is nothing like a needle in the roof of your mouth to remind you that you are alive! I'm reminded of the male dentist smiling and hovering over his patient, who grabs the dentist in his groin and says, "Now, we're not going to hurt each other, are we?"
• Lifetime protection by a vaccination does not necessarily refer to your life! Several years after I had a (very expensive) lifetime shingles shot, I had to have another one, as a new version of that virus has evolved.
• It's best to ask your surgical team, in advance, if they have watched the YouTube video of the procedure.
• I really hate using contact lenses! To use an Aussie phrase, "I'd rather get poked in the eye with a blunt stick!" During the nine weeks between having cataract surgery on each eye, I had to wear one contact lens. Sometime I couldn't get it in, while other times I couldn't get it out.
• There I was walking on a path halfway up a mountain in Maine with my 3-year-old son, who was riding in a frame on my back, when he told me that he liked hiking. I had to explain to him that he was riding; I was the one hiking!
• When someone tells you that so-and-so died, with a straight face say, "I'm not surprised, as there is a long history of death in their family." If they reply, "I didn't know that," you know for sure that they were not listening/paying attention.

Sayings: Borrowed and Original

Over the years, I've come across some memorable sayings that others have uttered; here are some of them (with attributions where I could find them):

• "Nothing is a complete waste; it can always serve as a bad example!"
• Lily Tomlin once said, "I always wanted to be somebody, but now I realize I should have been more specific!" 
• "Trust, but verify."
• "Just because I don't know where I am doesn't mean I'm lost."
• "If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there." [Lewis Carroll in Alice in Wonderland]
• "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." [George Santayana] "Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it." [Winston Churchill] I've found that after they fail (or succeed), many (most?) people do not do a realistic analysis of why. Learn from the past!
• On my work desk, I have a postcard that states in German, "Was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich starker," made famous by philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. Translated, it is, "What does not kill me, makes me stronger."
• And finally, one of my absolute all-time favorites: "If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail!" [Benjamin Franklin] (See below with respect to planning for success.)

And here are some I've coined (although it's likely that others have come up with versions of them as well):

• "It is relatively easy to get ahead in this world, as the competition just isn't that strong!" Most people are competing without knowing the rules or are just following the masses.
• "Learning what not to do can be just as important as what to do!"
• "Opportunities are all around (most of) us; we just need to recognize them and act on them."
• "Contrary to popular belief, you can create your own opportunities, and you can plan for success." (See my essay, "May 2011: Planning for Success.")
• "Separate the romantic from the logical." (See my essay, "February 2011: Talk is Cheap. Write it Down.")
• "Principles belong to those who can afford them." Sometimes we do things against our wishes, just to "get along" or perhaps to survive.
• "Invest in yourself. If you don't care about yourself, why should anyone else care about you?"
• Albert Einstein wrote that, "Energy cannot be created or destroyed; it can only be changed from one form to another." I say the same about problems; we might appear to solve one with a particular solution, but it often produces one or more (unintended) side-effects. That is, the net number of problems stays the same!
• "Don't tell me what you can't do, show me what you can do!"
• "Blaming others for your own shortcomings and mistakes is a complete waste of time and energy!"
• Although Julius Caesar famously said, "Veni, vidi, vici! (I came; I saw; I conquered)," my version is, "I came, I saw, I was not impressed!" This should not be confused with, "Veni, vidi, Visa! (I came, I saw, I shopped!)"
• Long ago, I decided that nothing in life is really important, except perhaps music! (I've since added to that the preparation and eating of food.)
• Ever since I was diagnosed with severe sleep apnea, and had to use a machine with a mask to sleep, I've stated that, "It is not my preferred sleeping companion!"
• If you want to be noticed, take on a central role! For example, when you join a new committee, becoming an officer, secretary, or volunteer puts you "front and center" in the group.

Conclusion

I know for certain that I am not done learning. And I often ask myself at the end of a day, "What did you learn today?" If the answer is, "Nothing," then was that a wasted day? Not necessarily, but it's quite possible we can and should aim to learn something—small or large—on a very regular basis.

I'll leave you with the following challenge: What were the three most recent things you set out to learn, and how long ago did those efforts happen? How many of them were successful, and whether you succeeded or failed, did you do a post-mortem on them as to why they succeeded or failed?

© 2001, 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

[Continued from Part 1.]

Back to the Capital and on to Punta del Este

In San Jose, we departed Florencia's apartment at 12:25 and walked to the bus depot to get my seat assignment on the 12:45 bus. The bus arrived, stopped for barely a minute, and then we were off even before I made it to my seat! It seemed that the timetables for the intercity buses were reliable. I had Seat 20 at a window. There was no air conditioning, and it was an old, but serviceable bus. It was a warm day with heavy clouds holding back the sun and a nice breeze blowing in my open window. A young man by the name of Carlos sat next to me. He was traveling with his mother, teenage sister, and two younger siblings. We talked a bit, and I discovered that he worked at a place that printed wallpaper. I gave candy to the children.

Along the way, we stopped at various places and occasionally got off onto local roads in and out of towns near the main highway. There was an interesting mix of passengers that included an anorexic young woman carrying a very large chemistry textbook heading back to university in the capital, and several young mothers with way-too-tight jeans, bare midriffs, and oversized love handles. As was usual in Latin America, the kids were well behaved and amused themselves quietly.

We travelled through rich farmland all the way to the outskirts of the capital. Then we came upon some real shanty towns with some buildings made entirely of very rusty sheets of galvanized iron and others with crumbling concrete. Ironically, in the distance, I could see the high-rise office towers downtown. What a contrast!

At the Tres Cruces terminal (Three Crossings, where three major transportation routes converged), I confirmed my onward ticket, and I had an hour's wait. I found a small café run by two nice young woman, and I had a ham-and-cheese sandwich and café cortado (short coffee). I bought postcards and stamps, and when I spoke in Spanish, the saleswoman responded in English, which confused me at first, as I was trying hard to get into Spanish mode.

My bus departed on time, and in fact it was such a busy route that two buses left for the same destination. I had an aisle seat and the woman next to me at the window was going to visit her daughter and grandchildren. We had quite a conversation after which she had a nap, presumably because I'd worn her out!

We drove out through the inner suburbs to the airport and then through more shanty towns. Then we went through forest and followed the coast to the east. I was surprised to see sand dunes, but then again, "Why Not?" Apparently, sandboarding, a sand version of snowboarding, was popular. At first, the forest was all pine trees, then eucalypts, and then a combination of both. Both kinds were harvested and there was a well-organized forestry program in that area.

The trip took two hours with an occasional stop. Along the way, we passed through some small mountains and on into lush rolling hills where contented beef cattle grazed. [The Brits had introduced quality breeds of cattle and built the railroad lines needed to export their meat. They also introduced sheep with high-quality wool, which eventually made Uruguay a major competitor in the international wool market.] As we topped the final hill, there in the distance was the peninsula containing the resort city of Punta del Este packed with luxury high-rise apartments. This is where the wealthy Argentinians typically came to play in the sand, sea, and the clubs.

The Resort Town of Punta del Este

On arrival, I phoned my next host, Marcelo, who agreed to meet me at the bus station. Meanwhile, I located the tourist office where I was served by a very nice woman who also collected coins, so I gave her a Virginia state quarter. We communicated using her little bit of English and my little bit of Spanish. It was balmy, but with the wind blowing, it was quite nice out. This part of the country was quite different to what I'd experienced thus far. I bought some emergency rations for myself (potato chips) and almond chocolates for my hosts.

At 6:45 pm, Marcelo arrived in his minivan, which he used to take tour groups around the area, as well as to and from the capital. His English was good, so we were easily able to communicate. Originally from Argentina, he'd moved the family from there some 15 years previous. They were Jewish, having descended from Ukrainian immigrants. His main job was running a John Deere agency selling small tractors and gardening equipment to places that serviced the wealthy people who had holiday homes in the area.

Marcelo took me on a driving tour of the tourist area, and we stopped at the pier where we ate pastries, talked to people fishing, and watched the sea lions compete with the seagulls for fish entrails being thrown from several fishing boats. Out at the point there was an anchor and memorial to do with the WWII great sea battle between three British cruisers and the German cruiser Admiral Graf Spee in 1939.

We came across a group of traditional dancers and drummers, all in various stages of dress, or lack thereof in the case of several belly dancers. Their style, candombe, came with the slaves from Africa. Led by flag wavers and a man on stilts, the group paraded past one of the two casinos. After we took some photos, we drove to the nearby town of Maldonado, where Marcelo and his family lived.

Susana, Marcelo's wife, was in Montevideo where she was manning her stall at a national craft fair. She made candles and various other things. Teenage son Javier was out, but I met daughter Ana. She was a university student studying architecture in the capital. Three days each week, she rode two hours by bus to and from school, reading and sleeping along the way. She had spent the 1998/1999 US school year at a high school near Seattle, Washington. Javier had just finished high school and was taking some computer classes at a local college. Ana made a bed for me, and I freshened up before Marcelo and I went out to supper.

We went to a place called Piano Bar – J.R. Pizzetas. All the tabletops were old treadle sewing machines, and the old-style furnishings were most interesting. A baby grand piano sat in one corner. A man played acoustic guitar while we ate, and don't you know, he played Hotel California, the same song I'd heard performed back in San Jose.

I was introduced to a new (to me) style of menu called Tenedor Libre, literally, "Free Fork." One could order as much food as one liked at US$5 per person. Drinks and desserts were extra. We drank pomelo, a soft drink with a grapefruit/lime taste. We ordered several small pizzas, which we shared. They were followed with bowls of pasta, then coffee cortado, of which each cup was served with a glass of sparkling, mineral water, to be drank in its entirety immediately after the coffee. The total cost with tip for the two of us was US$21. I also tipped the guitar player.

By the time we got back home, it was 11:30 pm. We talked some more and at midnight I went to bed with the window open to a light breeze. I was in Javier's room, as he was staying with friends. He had a large fish tank, and I decided that the fish needed to sleep too, so I switched off their light. I was tired, but sleep eluded me. But then once I did get to sleep, mosquitos came to visit. Don't you just hate that when that happens! Then it rained so heavily I thought the roof would come down on me! Actually, there were large hailstones, which stayed on the ground until the next morning.

[During one of our conversations, Marcello told me that local eucalypt trees were cut and barked, and shipped to Scandinavia where they were mixed in with conifer pulp to make paper.]

[Next day] My alarm went off at 10 o'clock and I emerged to see Ana and to meet her brother, Javier. Together, we had Twinning's tea and pastries. Susana was back from Montevideo and was unpacking from the show there. Marcelo was out driving tourists around.

At midday, we walked to a grocery store to get some things for lunch. I rescued a large brick of ice cream and a 2-liter bottle of Pomelo drink to share. Ana made us "surprise chop suey." Afterwards, we ate dessert outside under trees in the backyard. Their house was the daytime home of two very friendly cats (one of which tried to "help" me write this diary), and a communally owned boxer dog. Ana introduced me to her four tortoises. Each had a name, but they were hard to tell apart! She fed them once each day on salad leaves and some vegetable that smelled like a cucumber but was more like a zucchini. Then I did some laundry while Ana did housework. I also worked on this diary while candombe music played in the background. Later, I took a nap out on the back porch and generally had an easy afternoon.

That evening, Ana, Javier, and I walked into town to eat at a place that served local food. I had chorizos, a salad, and a very large, tall coffee. Back home, I phoned my next host. Marcelo and Susana came home around 11 pm, and we talked for an hour. It was a great night, and once again I slept with the window wide open.

[Next day] Breakfast involved Darjeeling tea, bread, and cheese. I went out with Marcelo and Javier to deliver some things and to see some of the surrounding countryside. The speed bumps on the roads were HUGE; they were called Lomo de Burro, "the back of the donkey!" We stopped at a park and playground where animals shapes were made from old trees and pieces of wood. Along one country road lined with forest, we came across some women each standing about 100 meters apart. Apparently, they were prostitutes plying their trade with passersby!

We visited the town of La Barra, an expensive resort at the point where a river met the sea. It had a most unusual bridge (see the photo on the Wikipedia link.) We ended up in downtown Punta del Este where Javier and I walked around, and I bought some postcards and a large sticker to put on the front of my diary. Back home, we had a late lunch of pasta and salad. Later, Ana dropped Javier, his friend Bruno, and me downtown where we took a boat out to Isla Gorriti in the bay. There, we walked around for an hour before catching the last boat back. Afterwards, we caught a local bus back home and I had a long nap. (This touring business can be hard work!)

While out and about, I noticed people carrying thermos flasks. Apparently, they were full of hot water and were used to make maté, a traditional South American drink made from the dried leaves of yerba mate. It was very popular and something like herbal tea. The powder used to make it smelled to me like fish meal, and I was not inspired to try it.

[Next day] After a light breakfast, I sat in the garden and read my novel, and then we had an early lunch. By 1 pm, we were at the harbor ready to go on a cruise to an island with sealions; however, a tour group had booked the whole boat. Don't you just hate that when that happens! Plan B involved walking around Maldonado, eating ice cream, and visiting some museums.

We were back home late afternoon at which time I packed my gear, and I wrote in their guestbook. At 5 o'clock, the whole family walked me to the bus terminal, which was only 200 meters from the house, and they helped me get my ticket and seat, and asked the conductor to make sure I got off at the right stop. The bus was five minutes late arriving, and after hugs and saying "Adios, mis amigos" ("Goodbye, my friends"), the bus pulled away with me in Seat 10 on an aisle. The air conditioning was blowing hard, which was a bit of shock after having none and wearing shorts the past few days. The family members were all great hosts, and I had a great visit. When they offered to have me stay longer, I was sorely tempted, but you just never know what new adventure is just around the corner.

On to the Next Host

At 6:40, the bus dropped me off at a stop next to the toll booth on the main highway not far east of Montevideo, and a minute later, my next host, Veronica, and her 18-month-old daughter, Erika, arrived and drove me to her house behind the sand dunes near the beach. Trained as a civil engineer, she was currently working in marketing for the national cellphone company, Antel. Her husband, Julio, was a communications engineer with the same company.

They spoke minimal English, so I switched to Spanish mode. And while that was quite challenging, we got by. Julio came home about 8 o'clock, and we got to know each other a bit. I was their first Servas guest, which was a real honor! They often ate vegetarian, and we had pasta in a marinara sauce for supper. As they'd both had long days, they were in bed by 10 while I read until 11.

[Next day] I was awake soon after 6 am. The house had many large windows, mostly without curtains, and as it was late spring, the sun rose early. Erika woke soon after and had her morning bottle in bed with her parents. After a breakfast of tea and toast, we all walked to the beach. A few people walked dogs. The water there is fresh as the very wide river pushed well out into the sea. Both parents headed off to work around 9 o'clock, and soon after a woman arrived to take care of Erika and to do some housework.

If one were looking for a dream holiday place, this one would be a good place to start. It was situated immediately behind large sand dunes about 400 meters from the beach. It had a large yard with a high, solid fence to keep out the wind, and lots of grass and trees. It was built for my hosts and was only six years old. Half of the house has two levels while the large living/dining room was open to the very top of the roof. I slept in a space under a thatched roof, a common thing for houses by the beach. A large fan hung on a wall and created a nice breeze, so no air conditioning was needed. The floors were tiled, there was a big fireplace, a cane rocking chair, bright colored sofas, plenty of indoor plants, and white-washed, rough interior walls with a splash of yellow paint here and there.

Not having had my full quota of sleep, I lay on the bed at 9:30 for what was intended to be a short nap, but ran 3½ hours! Apparently traveling and writing diaries can be hard work! For lunch, I made a sandwich and some tea, and it seemed that the planets were very much aligned as my hosts drank exactly the same brand of tea as I did: Taylors of Harrogate.

Mid-afternoon, I received a phone call from my next host, Lucretia. I'd sent her email the day before to coordinate our meeting. After I finished my novel, I started reading an issue of The Economist I'd brought with me, catching up with world affairs. Although it wasn't so hot out, the wind was quite strong, so I stayed indoors. A young man, Federico, dropped by. He was Veronica's cousin and had designed the house. He invited me to stay with him in Montevideo or to get together for a meal.

My hosts didn't get home till after 9 pm, and Julio fired up a large outdoor grill, and we ate BBQ, Uruguay-style, at 10:30. We ate several kinds of sausages, strips of beef ribs, and salad, and we drank pomelo. Lights out around 11:30.

Julio reminded me that it was Thanksgiving Day in the US, something I'd completely forgotten about.

[Next day] After a decent sleep, I was up at 8 o'clock. After a shower, I packed my gear and stripped my bed. Breakfast was tea and toast with leftover BBQ'd sausages. My hosts thought that eating meat for breakfast was quite strange, and certainly one wouldn't want to put ketchup on it; really!

Soon afterwards, I departed with Julio in his pickup truck for downtown Montevideo. The drive along the coast was pleasant with beaches all the way to the city and people walking dogs and jogging.

Off to Lucretia's Place

At Plaza Libertidad, we said our goodbyes. As it started to rain quite heavily, I sat under some shelter in the park. At 11 am, I called Lucrecia who decided to come and get me in her car. She arrived in her Ford station wagon, along with her pure-bred hunting dog, Diana, and much to Lucretia's surprise Diana and I bonded very quickly. We drove back to Lucretia's apartment, which was located in a renovated warehouse.

I occupied the guestroom, which contained a cello and double bass. Lucretia played cello for the national symphony orchestra, but that weekend's concerts had been cancelled due to construction problems at the hall.

We ate lunch at an Armenian restaurant, where I had a sample of many different things. It was very good and only cost about US$13 for the two of us. I offered to cook Chinese, so we went to a supermarket to pick up ingredients for that and an omelet. We took our time there looking at many of the things in most aisles. Back home, we both had naps.

When I woke, I found that Lucretia had taken the dog for a walk, so I worked on this diary. Then the phone rang, and I managed to deal with that with my basic Spanish.

It rained much of the afternoon. I chopped the vegetables and marinated the chicken and pork, adding in a generous quantity of crushed garlic. I started cooking at 8:30, and Lucretia's boyfriend, Louis, joined us. He taught theory at the music department of the public university. Although the rice was not my best effort, the meal was decent, despite there not being Chinese sauces and specialties at the market. Dessert was peaches and ice cream. As Lucretia didn't cook much, she was happy to have me take over the kitchen. As she usually ate on the couch in front of the TV, for this auspicious occasion, she set up a dining table, chairs, and a full linen service.

[Next day] Lucretia joined Servas as a traveler in 1997, but had only been a host for one year. I was her first guest. I slept late after which I started to prepare breakfast. Lucretia asked me if I'd like to stay indefinitely and do all the cooking, since she liked this new lifestyle I was presenting. Breakfast involved toast, ham, cheese, a pot of Twinning's Orange Pekoe tea, and orange juice. Afterwards, I put a load of laundry in her washer.

Outside, the rain stopped but there was a cool wind. The sun was trying hard to come out, but there was a lot of cloud cover. In any event, we put on our jackets and headed out around the old part of the city to the cathedral, a flea market, and some museums, and then finished up at a restaurant for a sandwich and coffee. We visited the Old Customs House, which had been converted to a large, indoor food court with traditional BBQ, seafood bars, and restaurants. We met up with her friend, Viviene, and her two dogs, and we walked along a beach. We came upon a German Shepherd club having a competition, so we stopped and watched that for a while.

Back home, I decided to stay in for the evening to get warm while Lucretia went out with friends. I ate leftover Chinese food while watching a video and listening to some music. Unfortunately, my sleep was interrupted by a very noisy party next door. Don't you just hate that when that happens!

[Next day] It was breakfast with a twist: hot chocolate, toast with ham and cheese, and fresh pastries containing quince jam. During the early afternoon, we walked a few blocks to Lucretia's parent's house, stopping on the way to buy drinks and a tin of Danish cookies as a gift. There, I met her mother, father, younger sister, and her boyfriend. A lunch of beef, spaghetti, and tomato sauce was served with drinks. Her father, Juan Carlos, was a medical doctor, and he collected a number of old things: coins, religious art and statues, fossils, and household things. His collections were on display throughout the house, and they were most interesting. That day, he'd arrived home carrying a very old and rusty rifle he'd purchased at the antique market.

By the time we got back home, it was 5 pm, and I had a late nap. The national football stadium was not far away and unbeknownst to me, that very day, the Australian soccer team was in town for the return World Cup match. I was woken to very loud cheers and horns as goals were scored. Frankly, I was hoping that the locals were winning; otherwise, it might not be safe for an Aussie to be out on the streets afterwards!

At 7:30, we went downtown by taxi to see all the locals celebrating Uruguay's win. We went to Louis' apartment up on the 13^th floor from which we had a great view over the main plaza where Artigas, the great revolutionary hero was buried in a mausoleum under a huge statue of him on a horse. We went out into streets filled with merrymakers and police on every corner. We went to a concert of Uruguayan music, which wasn't quite to my liking, although I did enjoy the drumming that is a national favorite. At the end, all the performers played and marched up the aisle, out into the foyer, and eventually out into the street. I met one of the drummers who was a friend of my host. By 10:30, most of the revelers had dispersed and we settled in at a table at a pizza restaurant.

Now, Lucretia had warned me not to leave my hiking boots lying around, as Diana liked to chew on things. Well, I'd forgotten to close my bedroom door, and Diana had indeed taken a liking to one boot, and had chewed open the tongue and ripped out the foam filling. However, no serious damage had been done.

A Visit to the Poor Side of Town

[Next day] I was up early and after breakfast I packed my gear. I said goodbye to Lucretia as she went off to a rehearsal and I walked to a bus stop. From there, I took a local bus to the main bus station where I was to meet Bertha, a retired social worker. She arrived at 9:30 and we took a bus out past the airport to a so-called "daycare center" for poor kids, run by Catholic Charities. As there were not enough schools for all children to attend school fulltime, half attended in the morning, and the other half in the afternoon, leaving the kids at loose ends half of each school day.

The Center gave the local kids a safe place to come and to keep out of trouble. Many of their families had no laundry or bathing facilities, so many kids bathed at the Center, which also had spare sets of clothing to lend to kids while theirs were being washed. They were taught basic hygiene, especially brushing their teeth.

I fixed a few things and generally helped as needed, and then answered many questions from the kids. We went over a map of Uruguay, and I explained to them where I'd visited. Then using a globe, I showed where I lived in the US, where Australia was, and how my hometown there had the same latitude as Uruguay.

A university student arrived and played guitar and sang with the kids. One young girl, Patricia, was especially interested and interesting. She was around 11 or 12, and the eldest of six sisters. She genuinely had a thirst for knowledge. She invited me to meet her parents, so I walked home with her to a shack made of scraps of corrugated iron and wood, earthen floors, all on a grassy block, in a neighborhood with lots of trash lying around. The father didn't care to work, and the mother had bloodshot eyes and numerous mental-health problems. According to several staff at the Center, several of the sisters had potential, but given their circumstances, it was unlikely they would get much of an opportunity to nurture it. It certainly was a humbling experience to see their situation. [For several years afterwards, I thought about Patricia and wondered if she'd somehow "broken out" of her grim situation.]

Bertha and I rode back to her place with the guitar player, and we all had tea with honey. While there, I noticed a few things that needed fixing, and between my Swiss Army knife attachments and her tools, I set to work. Most importantly, I repaired the handle of her kettle, so she wouldn't be at risk of scalding herself.

Going Up-Scale, Don't You Know!

I left Bertha's place around 5 o'clock and walked 10 blocks to a very fashionable neighborhood where my next host, Anita, lived. She drove up just as I arrived. Anita taught English and spoke several other languages as well. Her very large, comfortable house was near a beach. We had a long walk down along the coast and watched the sunset. Then we went to an old military prison that had been restored and turned into a modern shopping center. Christmas sale promotions were in full swing with Santa having his picture taken with kids. Several of his female helpers were wearing teeny bikini tops and were dancing around. Watching them was my Christmas present! At a restaurant, I had a chivito, a local specialty of bread wrapped around beef strips, bacon, tomato, boiled egg slices, and lettuce. A side of French fries came with it.

We walked back home, and, after a shower, I had an early night. However, there were a lot of fireworks outside and dogs barking, so it took me a while to get to sleep. My bed was a sofa that was hard and way too short!

[Next day] Soon after 9 o'clock, Anita and I drove to her daughter's house to drop off some things, after which we settled in at a restaurant at an up-scale apartment complex overlooking the beach where we had breakfast outside under a large umbrella. I had toast with cheese and jam and a café con leche and we talked for several hours. Next, we visited a large park where many fruit and vegetable stalls were operating. We bought some things and were back home by noon.

The sun was quite hot and there was a breeze. I sat out in the garden under a canopy of trees and frangipanis. Throughout the afternoon, Anita taught English to private students. Then around 8 pm, we ordered pizza and chorizo, which was promptly delivered, and we ate that with salad. Lights out around 10 pm after an easy day.

My Final Host

[Next day] I woke early and packed my gear. We drove to the house of Marisa, the first local I'd met at the start of the trip, where we dropped off my stuff. Then we parked near a school where Anita would work that day, and had a light breakfast together. We said out goodbyes and I strolled the main avenue, Avenida 18 de Julio (18^th of July), named after the date of the first Constitution (July 1830).

It was a sunny day, and I set out on a self-guided tour. My first stop was the automobile club to find out the hours of their car museum. While there, I decided to use their toilet. However, when I went to leave the toilet the main door was locked. Don't you just hate that when that happens! I had visions of being found days later with my last will and testament scribbled on a roll of toilet paper! I knocked loudly a few times on the door and eventually two young ladies arrived. I asked in my best Spanish, "Got any bloody keys?" They did and they were most embarrassed that they'd locked me in.

Next stop was the Pedagogy Museum to learn about the rather advanced system of free, public education Uruguay had practiced for the past 125 years. While there, I was not locked in any toilet! Nearby in a large bank building, I visited a Gaucho museum and a money museum. Afterwards, I sat on the grass in the main square, Plaza Independencia, and watched the locals go by for quite some time. I looked in a few shops and then I spied a McDonalds, so I went in for some hot and salty French fries! I took my food upstairs and ate it. Back on the street, I came across two Peruvians playing flute and guitar, and I stopped and had a short concert of tunes by the Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel. When they took a break, one of them came and sat with me and we had a passable conversation in Spanish. When I left, I gave them a generous tip.

I got back to Marisa's place around 2 pm, and tried to nap, but to no avail. So, I watched TV for the first time in a week, but nothing much seemed to be happening in-country or around the world. I went out and bought some groceries to contribute to our supper, then I worked on this diary while playing some Baroque music. At 6 o'clock, I went off to tour the car museum, which was small but had some interesting exhibits. Back home, we ate empanadas and salad with peach juice.

[Next day] I slept late and spent the morning reading and watching TV and resting. Mid-afternoon, Marisa and I had a late lunch at a hotel restaurant. I had my first hungara, a hot dog wrapped in ham and cheese in a jacket of toasted bread, along with a Russian salad (sliced potatoes, peas, carrots, and mayonnaise).

Early evening, we headed off to a school where Marisa worked. It was raining quite heavily, and we took a while to get there. Near the school was an art gallery and museum that featured works from a well-known painter, Juan Manuel Blanes. A Japanese garden had recently been opened in the grounds.

Because of the rain, the open-air concert we'd planned to attend was cancelled, so she phoned Anita, and we met at a restaurant for supper at 9 o'clock. After a wonderful meal, I was in bed by midnight.

[Next day] Once again, I slept late, after which I showered and packed most of my gear. I ate a light breakfast while watching CNN news and various current-affairs programs. Since it would be a long travel day, I took it easy. Marisa came home unexpectedly, and we had lunch together. She was in the process of buying a house on the beach and was meeting with her bank that day.

The Trip Back Home

Mid-afternoon, I packed, said goodbye to the housekeeper, and waited outside at the main entrance of the apartment building. Ten minutes later, my ride to the airport arrived. It was a sort-of taxi service. The driver appeared to be a racecar enthusiast. We were tailgating at 65 mph and creating an extra lane between the two that were marked, and generally weaving in and out of traffic. We arrived at the airport, intact, barely!

I was checked-in quite quickly, and as I passed through security, I triggered the alarm, but nothing suspicious was found. After I cleared immigration, I stopped in the duty-free shops to use up my last local currency on some music CDs. (As I was well under budget for the trip, I'd left most of my local currency with Marisa for the kid's center where I'd volunteered.) I made myself comfortable in the Business Lounge where I had a snack of ham, cheese, juice, and potato chips. I could see my plane out the window.

The flight to Buenos Aires was pleasant and quick. Once again, at BA I was escorted to the First-Class lounge, where I tried very hard to avoid eating and drinking. Then I was escorted onto my connecting flight, right to my Suite where flight attendant Jacqueline started fussing over me. Don't you just love that when that happens! The plane was a Boeing 777, which had a better First-Class than the 767 on which I'd flown down.

I watched a movie, The Knight's Tale, which I thoroughly enjoyed. My dinner choices were, as follows: Appetizer of mushroom ragout in puff pastry with braised fennel OR Parma ham and mozzarella cheese, hard-boiled egg, and grilled asparagus; with a garden salad and dressing and a selection of breads; Main Couse: Filet mignon with Barolo wine sauce and cremini mushrooms, artichoke and spinach gratine, lemon thyme potato pie OR Sautéed sea bass and grilled shrimp with saffron jus, bouillon potatoes, fried leeks, and Roma tomato OR Roasted breast of chicken and balsamic rosemary jus, sautéed leeks, and lentil compote; Dessert: International cheese sampler, ice cream with sundae topping, and fresh fruit. Decisions, decisions, decisions!

I got my bed into its lay-flat position, fluffed up my pillow, and settled down to sleep.

[Next day] I woke at 3:30 am, EST, to find myself at 30,000 feet above Cuba; Hello Fidel! After splashing some cold water on my face, I sat down to breakfast, choosing the ham, cheese, and fruit instead of the mushroom leek omelet with pork and cheese potato pancake. Now that I was back in the Northern Hemisphere and it was winter, it was still dark out as we approached Miami, Florida. Out my window, I had a good look at the metro area all lit up.

We landed in Chicago on-schedule at 4:35 am to a busy airport as many flights were arriving from Latin America. I had less than an hour until my connecting flight, and security was thorough. I boarded the Boeing 737 and had a nice sleep along the way to Washington Dulles International airport where the fog was so thick, we circled the area for 30 minutes until it burned off. I phoned home and Jenny picked me up 25 minutes later.

At home, I had a refreshing shower and did some work before having a very long nap. The trip was becoming a fading memory as I had to prepare for and leave the very next day for a 1-week business trip to Pennsylvania to teach a seminar.

It had been a very good trip, but I was happy to be home!

© 2001, 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

[Originally, this diary was written by hand in a spiral notebook during the trip. Some time ago, I transcribed and edited it. I'd glued all kinds of things into the paper version: postcards, bus tickets, receipts, and so forth. It's quite likely that I hadn't read the diary since I first wrote it.]

Getting Ready

"¡Hola, mis amigos!," which is Spanish for "Hello, my friends!" (Note that in Spanish, a sentence ending with an exclamation mark begins with an upside-down exclamation mark, as shown.)

Uruguay is not on the way to anywhere, so if you go there, presumably you mean to be there! I don't recall when or why I got interested in that part of South America, but I did, and I went because "it seemed like a good idea at the time!" Besides, it was the northern winter (November), and I was ready for some serious warmth.

With all my business and personal flying, I'd accumulated a lot of Frequent Flyer Miles with United Airlines (and its Star Alliance partners), so I decided to cash-in some to go to Uruguay. My choices were: Economy Class for 50,000 miles, Business Class for 80,000 miles, or First Class for 100,000 miles. I chose First Class; nothing was too good for Esther Jaeschke's baby! In any case, it's a very special event to fly international First Class. Although I had to pay US taxes on the ticket, they came to only US$36.10. [BTW, when one pays for an airline ticket, the price of Business Class is about four times that of Economy, and First Class is about 10 times.]

The last time I got a serious workout in Spanish was seven years earlier on a trip to Mexico. So, it was time to get my brain back into Spanish mode.

The Flight Down

At 5:10 pm, I boarded Flight UA951 from Washington Dulles International (IAD) to Chicago O'Hare (ORD). It was a 2-hour flight, and I gained an hour going from Eastern to Central Time. I was the first person to board the Boeing 777 and I settled into Suite 2A. There were three classes: First, Business, and Economy. If you have ever wondered, while sitting in the back, as to where all the space has disappeared to, I can tell you it's in First Class! By my estimate, the 12 First Class suites took up the same space as 40+ Economy seats. Although I was going to southeastern South America, I was heading west two hours to Chicago, as that was the best United connection.

After we took off, I read all the instructions for using my equipment. As I wrote earlier, I was in a "Suite" not a "Seat." The seat was upholstered with leather, and it was large with a leg rest that rose to the horizontal position when the seat was laid all the way back. Then in the storage locker in front of me, a ledge dropped down to meet the leg rest completing my bed base. And at 6'4" (195 cms), I really could stretch out. In normal mode, I had a seat that moved backward and forward electrically, and I could work at a small, solid desk, which had plenty of room for a laptop computer and came with an electrical outlet. Built-in to the desk was a video screen with a compact videotape player. My armrest contained a myriad of controls, primarily for the audio and video channels, the VCR, and an electronic map display. I found a seat-back option to fit my back's lumbar region. I put it into automatic mode, and it went through a back-massage cycle. How very civilized; this First-Class flying could get habit forming!

The flight attendant served drinks, in proper glasses don't you know, along with nuts. As the flying time to Chicago was only 90 minutes, no food was served. It was nice that the attendant knew my name in advance and even pronounced it correctly. My trip was off to a very good start!

Keep in mind that I was flying only two months after 9/11. The travel industry as a whole, and aviation in particular, had taken a big hit. As for me, it was pretty much "business as usual." I figured that if the pilots were willing to fly, then so was I. Certainly, airport security was much more serious than before. I was asked a lot more questions at check-in, and pocketknives, hand razors, scissors, and such were no longer allowed in carry-on luggage. The baggage screening was more stringent and there were armed soldiers at all US commercial airports.

Suite 2A was on the port (left) side of the plane and stretched across four—YES 4—whole windows. The sun set as I boarded. We had a light load (public confidence in flying was still quite low), but soon we were off to the Windy City, where I'd spent my first year in the US, in 1979–1980. We flew over West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and across Lake Michigan to Chicago, Illinois. As the outside temperature was -81F (-63C), I kept my window closed!

As we approached ORD, I could clearly see its seven runways. The airport operates nonstop, 24x7—even in a snow storm when snow plows go down the runway ahead of a plane taking off—and competes with Atlanta's Hartsfield (ATL) as the busiest airport in the US. (ORD is the home of United Airlines.)

Soon after we landed, I settled into the First-Class lounge, which as God intended, is separate from the Business lounge. There was a self-serve bar and food area with salads, Chinese noodles, sushi, fresh fruit, and plenty of cheese. I had some brie and raw vegetables. While snacking, I started going over some information about Uruguay that I'd downloaded from the internet, and I looked at a list of some Spanish idioms I might encounter. I phoned home to let my family know I was alive and well and not yet missing them.

At 8:30 pm, Central Time, I arrived at Gate C20 (United occupies all the gates at two large terminals) and checked in. Boarding started soon after, and once again, I was the first passenger. It was a light load with fewer than 100 passengers in the Boeing 767 wide body. The First-Class cabin wasn't quite as nice as the 777 I'd just flown, but then again, the 767 was an older model. I'd gone from a Suite to a generously appointed Seat. I had almost the same amenities, but a little less storage space, which was not a problem for me, as I had little hand luggage. The First-Class cabin had only 10 seats.

There was a delay of 45 minutes while the mechanics fiddled with some hydraulic problem, and our scheduled departure was moved to 10 pm, local time. Since the flying time to Buenos Aires, Argentina, was 11:25 hours, what's another hour or so? So, what to do while waiting for the maintenance guys to finish up but to select a movie from the videotape collection managed by the flight attendants, and to start watching. I settled into "Angel Eyes" with Jennifer Lopez. Well, don't you know, at 10 o'clock, it was announced that the problem could not be fixed, and that we'd have to change planes. Don't you just hate that when that happens! However, the planets were aligned and United just happened to have a "spare" 767 available, at the very next gate! The bad news was, we'd be delayed another 1:10 hours while that plane was readied and the luggage transferred, so we'd be two hours delayed departing. As best as I could tell, that would not affect my on-going flight to Uruguay. My friendly flight attendant told me to take the videocassette with me, so I could continue my movie later.

Eventually, we boarded the backup plane. Its First-Class cabin had recently been refurbished, which was a bonus. As ORD is such a big airport, it took us 15 minutes to taxi out to our runway, and finally around midnight, we took off, and I finished my movie.

[Next day] Despite our significant delay, a very late dinner was served. Naturally, the menu was in English and Spanish. To begin, there was a warm crab cake with marinara sauce with garlic and shallot sautéed spinach OR beef carpaccio with a red onion brûlé, and sun-dried tomato and Parmesan cheese. This course was accompanied by a garden salad with Balsamic Dijon vinaigrette or creamy Gorgonzola dressing and an assortment of specialty breads fresh from the bakery.

The main course was a choice from the following: grilled veal chops with portobello mushroom reduction, cheddar mashed potatoes and vegetable sauté; salmon and halibut in a zucchini wrap with Israeli couscous and tomato onion stew; or woodland mushrooms and asparagus with Treccie dell'Orto pasta and white wine truffle oil. Such choices for a young lad to make!

Dessert included an international cheese sampler (Chaumes, Emmenthal, and Bavarian blue cheese), ice cream with sundae toppings, and fresh seasonal fruit. Port wine was served.

There were only two passengers in First Class, and we each had a dedicated flight attendant. Mine was very friendly and was happy to sit by me and chat. When she served my meal, on proper China and with crystal glasses and cloth napkin, she was most apologetic that the metal serrated knife that usually came with the meal had been replaced by a cheap, plastic one, presumably so I could not use it as a weapon. She then explained to me how ridiculous that was when I could simply break the stem off the crystal wine glass and cut open her jugular with it; really!

Soon after I finished eating, it was lights-out! I slept 5–6 hours and then dozed a bit more. With the late departure from Chicago and the total of three hours advanced in time, it got daylight rather quickly, but my cabin's window shades were all kept closed. Our flight path took us over the Caribbean, Colombia, Brazil, Bolivia, Paraguay, and Argentina.

An hour before landing, hot towels were distributed. Breakfast was a choice of ham, cheese, and fresh fruit or scrambled egg timbals (think quiche without a crust) with corned beef hash and Hollandaise sauce.

Out my window I saw the Uruguay River, a major waterway that forms the border between Argentina and Uruguay. There were lots of small farms whose fields were turning green, as it was spring in the Southern Hemisphere. There were few clouds, and I had a crystal-clear view. There was a large and intricate delta where several rivers came together to form the large estuary known as Rio de la Plata. The Buenos Aires metropolitan area was very green with lots of trees, grass, and parks, and the international airport (EZE) is adjacent to wetlands. In the distance, the downtown was clouded in a yellow/brown smog, much like Mexico City, only on a much smaller scale.

A Short Layover in Buenos Aires

When we landed, my fellow First-Class passenger and I were taken by our respective flight attendants to the front door (while all other passengers exited by a mid-cabin door) where we were each met by an agent who escorted us to the First-Class lounge. Again, the agent knew my name and asked me what I'd like to drink in the lounge. Although I was continuing to Uruguay on the same plane, I had to disembark and wait in the lounge. From the lounge, I could see my plane out on the tarmac, and not long after, I saw buses delivering Economy Class and then Business Class passengers to the stairs leading up to the plane. And, frankly, I got a bit nervous, thinking I might be left behind, so I asked a lounge staff member about when I'd board. They assured me everything was OK, and I'd be called when it was time for me to go. Well, don't you know, I did get called, and I and a few other First-Class passengers exited a side door, went down some steps, and boarded a limousine. The driver calculated our arrival at the foot of the plane stairs at exactly the time the last Economy- and Business-Class passenger disappeared inside the plane, so we wouldn't have to wait. We walked up the stairs, sat in our assigned seats, were served a drink, put our seat belts on, and the plane started taxiing, all in a few minutes, I kid you not! After all, "Time is money!" right, and I was in First Class! (Never mind that I was flying on a free ticket.)

Money Problems at the Montevideo Airport

The flight over the Rio de la Plata was very short, and we arrived in the Uruguayan capital, Montevideo, to a pleasant 75F (24C) with a light breeze. The airport (MVD) was small, and my plane pulled up not far from a terminal. We walked down the stairs, boarded a bus, and rode a short distance. Passport control was a formality, and I got a 90-day permit (no employment allowed). I collected my luggage and headed for the bank to change some money.

On the morning that I had left home, my wife Jenny got me $400 in $20 bills from our bank's cash machine. However, as soon as she gave them to me, I noticed an obvious defect in all of them: they had been cut incorrectly with the top border too narrow and the bottom one too wide, but the correct printing was all there. I said then that that might cause me a problem, and it did. Well, when I tried to change some of the bills, the bank staff huddled around and examined the bills intensely, some using a magnifying glass. They "hmm-d" and "haa-d" and rejected them. And since they wouldn't change my American Express travelers' checks either (I'd have to go to a different bank downtown for that), I politely protested that I had no local currency! After further consultation, they took pity on me and agreed to risk changing $20, so I could catch a bus to get downtown. Their exchange rate was UYU13.70 to USD1.00. (Like a number of other currencies, the Uruguayan Peso is written locally with a $ symbol, which can be confusing when one is used to that meaning "dollar.")

Rescuing a Damsel in Distress

After that challenge, it was off to the tourist office next door to get a city map and directions via a downtown bus. There, I got my first real Spanish workout. As I finished my transaction, a woman came in looking very distressed. As with me, the bank wouldn't change her traveler's checks, and the cash machine would not cooperate with her, and besides, all its messages were in Spanish, which she did not speak. I took her back to the machine and tried again using her card but couldn't figure out the message it was issuing.

She was a single Dutch woman in her 30's and she was distraught; her name was Marijke. I assured her that I would take care of her, and that I'd buy us both bus tickets, and once we were downtown, we'd figure out how to solve both our problems. She accepted my offer, and we headed off. The bus was crowded, and I stood most of the trip. Along the way, I chatted with a young local woman who made sure we got off at the right stop. After walking two blocks, we found a budget hotel, The Colonia, and I got myself a room for about US$8/night. The hotel was decent, and Room 301 was spartan, but good enough for a guy traveling with a backpack. I declined the en-suite bathroom option and saved the extra US$2/night. No sense in overdoing things! (Didn't this tightwad just fly First Class?) Once Marijke saw my room, she decided it was cheap, and she wanted to stay there too instead of going to a youth hostel. So, I used up most of my remaining cash to pay for her room. However, she was extravagant, and opted for the en-suite!

After we freshened up in our respective rooms, we headed off to the main plaza nearby where we immediately found more than a few private money-changing booths before we even saw a bank. I asked one guy if he'd change my remaining US$ bills, and without even really looking at them, he said, "Yes," at which I breathed a sigh of relief. I got the same rate as the bank at the airport, and I had 4,110 pesos in my pocket. They offered to change travelers' checks, but wanted US$3 for each one, which for Marijke's US$20 checks was 15%, way too much. Instead, she changed just one US$50 check, so she could pay me back for the bus ticket and hotel room. She was greatly relieved and started to feel much better. A few doors down, we found a mainstream currency exchange and the very pleasant young woman attendant quoted a 2% charge for travelers' checks, which pleased Marijke even more. And then we found a cash machine that allowed her to get local cash. Her money problems were well and truly solved, and we sat and rested, and watched the locals at work and play.

On the way back to our hotel, we stopped at a supermarket to buy a few things from which we made a picnic supper. We ate in a park with a large, lit-up statue in a fountain. Soon after, it rained a little, and we found some shelter. Five minutes later, it was clear again.

At My Hotel in Montevideo

By 9 pm, we were back at our hotel, and I tried to read, but couldn't stay awake. So, I set my alarm and had a short but deep nap. An hour later, the alarm went off and I went out. The woman who had helped me via email to arrange homestays in Uruguay asked me to phone her at 10 pm, and as she lived only three blocks from my hotel, I walked to her apartment. She was home and in the middle of a late supper. Her name was Marisa Contini, of Italian descent (as are as many as one-third of the population). We quickly found that we had mutual friends in the Washington DC area. We talked until 11:30 and made some plans.

By that time, I was wide-awake, so I walked around the city a bit and stopped at a restaurant near my hotel where I ordered a ham-and-cheese-filled empanada and café con leche. The staff were all very friendly as had been all the locals thus far. The bill came to US$2.50, which included two cups of coffee. Lights out at 12:30 am after an interesting first day in-country.

[Next day] Although I woke at 8 am, I managed to lie in dozing until 10:30. As I waited to use the share bathroom, Marijke came by and offered me the use of her en-suite. I accepted and found it was a typical Latin-American shower–no shower curtain, so the larger space around gets a good wash as well. The first thing you learn in such a situation (he says from experience) is to remove the roll of toilet paper from the general area, so it doesn't become a ball of pulp! Oddly enough, the shower head was up higher than me, so I could actually stand upright under it. After a slow start, the hot water made an appearance. Unfortunately, the drain was not located at the lowest part of the floor, and I had to use a mop to clean up the floor afterwards. Don't you just hate that when that happens! As for shaving, that's usually a challenge in this part of the world. The bathroom sinks in budget places generally don't have a plug or hot water, in which case, one tries to find a container to get hot water from the bath or shower and to stand that in the sink. I succeeded!

Now, what sort of a room does US$8 buy one in Montevideo? It was medium-sized and had French doors leading to what could be described as a balcony, if you were a midget, which I am not! The street outside was lined with tall maple trees, which came right up to my window on the third floor. I had a double bed, a closet, a table with two chairs, a TV mounted on the wall, and a large mirror with a piece missing from one corner. (What do you expect for $8, a whole mirror!) The bed was solid, and the mattress didn't sag at all, a major problem in cheap hotels where I sometimes pull the mattress on the floor. I had my own travel pillow. As to the sheets, they were so thin they had only one side! There was also a telephone and a ceiling fan with a 40-watt bulb that was just about bright enough for me to make out the furniture!

I planned to check-out of the hotel around 12:30. Marisa had invited me to her apartment for lunch around 1 o'clock, and I planned to buy some food along the way to contribute to the meal. I was rested, I had local currency, the sun was shining, the city was very much alive, and all was right in this little corner of the world. I was ready for the next adventure.

Marisa was the national secretary for Servas International, a peace-based hosting organization to which I belonged. I'd contacted her in advance and offered to stay with any hosts who'd not had many or any travelers, and she'd taken care of that. The plan today was to tell me how to catch a bus to my first host.

At Marisa's place, we chatted while she prepared a salad. After we ate that, there was lasagna and drinks. I'd brought oranges and strawberries, so we had fruit salad for dessert. Afterwards, we walked to a garage where her car was being repaired, but it was not yet ready, so I switched to Plan B. Instead of having her drive me to the main bus station, I took a taxi. I managed a sort-of conversation with the driver who seemed to have graduated from a racecar (or perhaps it was a roller-coaster) school! In any event, he got me to the station in double-quick time for US$3.

On My Way to San Jose

The central bus station was new, huge, and well organized. I proceeded to the COTMI bus company counter and informed the young lady agent that I had a reservation on the 3:45-pm to San Jose. She confirmed that and asked if it was one-way or return, and it being a return, the return date would be left open. That cost US$6. As I was searching for the right place to board, a young man with a small daughter adopted me, as they were also going to San Jose, so I should just follow them. [I was reminded of the song, "Do you know the way to San Jose?" made famous by Dionne Warwick.]

The coach was very nice and comfortable with air conditioning, and I had aisle Seat 10. It was a direct bus with few stops; travel time was expected to be 1:15 hours. My backpack was stowed in the luggage compartment, and I had a reasonable amount of legroom provided the woman in front didn't recline her seat too far. We departed on time from one of the 50 loading bays. It was a very busy place!

We were soon out in the countryside heading northwest, and everything was green. There were plenty of trees including stands of eucalypts (which until I'd seen them growing in Peru some years earlier, I'd naively thought they were only found in Australia) and palms along the roadside.

At the San Jose bus terminal, there to meet me was Florencia Giacosa, a single woman who was my age and quite a character. We walked several blocks to her apartment in a small high-rise building. It was a nice place filled with books and musical things, and a large collection of smoking pipes formerly used by her father and grandfather. I dumped my gear in the den/computer room, which was to be my home for the next two nights. We walked to a supermarket to buy pastries, sugar, and milk, and back home we got acquainted over afternoon tea.

Afterwards, I rested and read. We were to meet friends at a restaurant for supper around 9:45 pm, which is the typical dining time in that part of the world. As several of the people didn't speak English, I'd likely get a Spanish workout. At 10 pm, Ernesto and Shirley dropped by to pick us up and as they didn't speak English, my challenge began.

We drove to the outskirts of the provincial capital of 30,000, to a restaurant called "El Ombu." On Friday nights in November, there was live music with singer Geraldo and keyboard/guitar player Javier. Our table was right next to the band and one of the loudspeakers, so it was LOUD! During a break, Geraldo joined us to eat, and he and I chatted a bit. He invited me to sing, but I declined. They mostly did popular songs in Spanish plus a few in English. Geraldo did a great job with Eric Clapton's "Tears in Heaven" and the Bee Gees' "How deep is your love?" Javier sure knew how to make his guitar sing, and he brought the house down with his rendition of the Eagles' "Hotel California" and a Carlos Santana tune.

It was a great night with audience participation (clapping and dancing) and a huge buffet table filled with salads and cold cuts. The chorizo (local sausage) was cooked over a large, open fire. There was also steak, chicken, and a whole host of other local specialties along with French fries and drinks. Although there was no such thing as a no-smoking area, the very high ceiling allowed most tobacco smoke to drift away from the tables.

A local man dining with friends was persuaded to perform. He went out to his car to get his guitar, and he did a set of folk songs. At the end, our waiter, Cesar, took the microphone and belted out four songs, much to the delight of the patrons. After four hours of foot stomping, finger-snapping music and eating, we closed the place down and headed home. The price was unbelievable; for the two of us, all food and drinks included, it cost only US$20!

On the way home, we drove around the downtown area to see the main church lit up, along with a large plaza with fountain. Back home, I set up my bed and dropped off to sleep with loud music still filling my head at 2:15 am.

[Next day] I slept until 10:15 am. The outside blinds sealed tightly and kept the room quite dark. It was another nice day outside. We had a light breakfast of tea, fresh-squeezed orange and grapefruit juice, and strawberry jam on crackers. It was just the right amount of food! Besides, I needed to pace myself in anticipation of lunch.

Anita, another Servas host, tracked me down, and we talked by phone, our first time, as all previous communications had been via email. She invited me to stay with her if I could find a 2-night slot on my calendar.

Tabulation Time at the National Lottery Office

At 1 o'clock, Florencia and I walked around the neighborhood where I managed to buy a map of Uruguay. An hour later, we packed a large lunch and walked to the regional office of the National Lottery, where Florencia worked, but not on Saturdays. Every Saturday morning, the office processed all the tickets bought the previous week along with all the money paid, in advance of the weekend drawing. This takes the staff until early afternoon after which there is a party for which Florencia helped cater. We arrived at the non-descript building with darkened windows in a quiet neighborhood. A "secret" knock on a side door brought a policeman, complete with bullet-proof vest and pistol. He let us in to the back rooms where I settled in the manager's office and I tried to read the national newspaper (which, of course, was in Spanish). The front-page news included speculation about the upcoming World Cup soccer series game between Uruguay and Australia in Melbourne on November 20.

One of the staff showed me a large safe where he kept counterfeit bills. He showed me some and we compared them with legitimate bills, and he pointed out the differences. And as I collected coins and bills from each country to which I traveled he gave me some old bills that were no longer in circulation along with some old coins. In return, I gave him a US$1 coin as well as some special state quarters. Out in the work area, there were numerous tables piled high with tickets and cash.

Once all the work was finished, I met the staff and we settled down to lunch: fish cakes, sausages, corn chips and dip, all washed down with Coke, Uruguayan beer, and whiskey on the rocks! As we ate, an armored car came to collect the money, and the policeman helped load that. I asked him if I could take a photo of him holding his submachine gun, and he obliged; however, he was smiling, so I asked him to look "fierce," which he tried to do but not very convincingly. [BTW, it's common to see guards armed with shotguns and pistols outside or inside banks in Latin America, and Uruguay was no exception. When you first encounter this, you think, "OK, I feel really safe now." But then you start to wonder why they are there. Perhaps it's because there are frequent attempts at robbery, in which case, "Maybe I'm not so safe after all."]

Around San Jose

We left around 4 pm and dropped our gear at home before walking into the downtown area. We visited a museum in the home of a famous Uruguayan poet who'd died in 1997. From there it was on to the main plaza and the huge Catholic church with magnificent marble columns. Florencia went in for the 5-o'clock mass while I walked home and tried unsuccessfully to nap. The weather out was simply gorgeous.

That evening, Florencia reserved my seat on the bus back to Montevideo the next day as well as the connecting bus going east from there.

At 8:45 pm, we went out to dinner to a restaurant on the main plaza. I ordered milanesa (meat deep-fried in batter), and we shared a large salad. With drinks, the bill came to US$15. We took our time eating and by the time we left, the place was full. After a walk, we went back home where we read and listened to some Spanish-language music. Lights out at 11 pm after another great day.

[Next day] I woke quite late after a very long rest. Breakfast consisted of Brazilian-made cornflakes and fresh-squeezed juice. Afterwards, I packed my gear and sent some final email. Florencia insisted I accept a nice travel book on Europe from her as a gift.

Although Florencia had been a member of Servas for more than six years, and she had stayed with Servas hosts while traveling abroad, I was only her second Servas guest. And the first was an Englishman who'd arrived a month earlier. So, I really was an ambassador to the program, as well as to my native and adopted countries.

Stay tuned for Part 2.

© 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

From time to time during my travels, I come across signs that I find interesting for one reason or another. Sometimes, they contain clever writing, are humorous, or remind me of some place or event. Here are some, mostly from time spent in Italy (Milan, Florence, and Sorrento) in March and April of 2019.

© 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

Continuing on from Part 1, here is the second set of topics!

History and Geography

See my essay, "August 2022: A Little Bit of History."

For me, history didn't come alive until I started to travel to places that I'd heard about in history lessons or in the news. Standing on the Waterloo or Hastings Battlefields, visiting Dover Castle (from which the evacuation from Dunkirk was managed during WWII), standing on the spot where Dr. Martin Luther King gave his "I have a dream" speech, touring the Colosseum in Rome, or visiting the Cabinet War Rooms in London, all had a profound effect on me. As did visits to the Incan ruins at Machu Picchu in Peru, and the Mayan ruins at Tikal in Guatemala and Chichen Itza in Mexico.

Lessons learned:

• Watching a video or seeing pictures of a historic place is not like actually being there, where you can close your eyes and "feel" the place.
• Understanding the history, religion, and military past of a country or area can be educational. I really appreciated this when I spent a day in Bosnia Herzegovina. I read about the Ottoman occupation, I looked at the country's shape, and learned about the languages spoken.
• Petra, Jordan, is well worth visiting.
• The Americas were not discovered in 1492; the locals knew they were there for thousands of years! Besides, the Vikings visited much earlier.
• From time to time, history gets rewritten.

I've always liked geography, and I like to look at all kinds of maps, especially those annotated in foreign languages. Place and country names you take for granted are often different than in English, and unrecognizably so. (See my essay, "What is Normal Part 7: What's in a Name.")

Lessons learned:

• The earth is not flat; in any event, I have never fallen off the edge! And I have seen the curvature of the horizon from quite high up.
• I've witnessed the Aurora Borealis several times from 30,000 feet (10,000 m) up while flying overnight from Tokyo to Washington DC.
• Borders between countries are a man-made convention, although more than a few (partly) follow physical features (such as rivers).
• Watching a volcano erupt (in Costa Rica) and feeling the ash on my face downwind was quite an experience. However, it's best not to climb an active volcano! While at this very mountain, I met a man wearing a full cast on a broken leg sustained when he attempted an ascent! Why did he do it? Apparently, it seemed like a good idea at the time, especially after a few beers.
• Standing on a glacier and looking at the places it has carved rock can be humbling.
• Birds do indeed migrate south during the northern winter. There I was in November on a tour bus crossing the Patagonia in Chile, when we came to a large lake with thousands of wall-to-wall flamingos, busy eating shellfish, which gives them their pink plumage.
• What seems like a mirage just might be real! On the same tour mentioned above, I saw an iceberg the size of a small house way out in an arid region. It had broken off a glacier in the Andes Mountains, floated down the resulting meltwater river, and run aground a long way from home.
• When I went down the Amazon River in Peru and saw local kids swimming in water known to be occupied by piranhas, I was reliably informed that there was plenty of other food for the fish to eat that season, so swimming was safe! I for one was not convinced!
• Uluru (formerly Ayers Rock) is a fine place to visit at sunrise or sunset, especially when you understand something of the local Australian Aboriginal dreamtime.
• Flying in a commercial jet very close to the level of the world's tallest waterfall (Angel Falls in Venezuela), and not very far from it, was exhilarating, and included in my US$28 fare from Caracas to Canaima.
• Nature can be very patient, and unforgiving.
• Not all deserts are as devoid of life as is much of the Sahara.
• Iceland is green, and Greenland is icy; hmm!
• Alaska is much bigger than Texas; can you imagine that!
• When you first land in a city that is at 12,100 feet altitude (3,400 m), like Cusco, Peru, it's best not to race around like you might when at sea-level (so he says after having done so and then vomiting in the street outside the city's main cathedral!)

See my essay, "April 2018: These United States."

My Time with Computers

I was more than four years into working in the field of chemistry when I was first exposed to computing, via a semester course in a programming language, on a timesharing minicomputer. Ten minutes into that first lecture, I knew my purpose in life. At age 20, I was finally passionate about something!

Over the years, I've learned the following programming languages and written programs in them and/or studied them at length: several advanced dialects of BASIC, COBOL, Fortran, DIBOL, C, C++, Java, C#, PHP, and Hack. And I've had a cursory look at JavaScript, Python, and Rust. I've worked on mainframes, minicomputers, and PCs, and on applications for business, mapping, and engineering, among others.

Lessons learned:

• Don't wait for someone else to pay to train you. Invest in yourself. For example, in most cases, I learned the languages above in my own time and on my own computers.
• Not every work-related activity needs to result in income.
• It's OK to not know everything about a topic; for example:
  • I edited a 4-Part, 6,500-page specification that documented the file format of MS Word, Excel, and PowerPoint. Initially, I was concerned that I didn't know enough about each of these tools, but it quickly occurred to me that the sheer size of the project made that pretty much impossible, especially if I wanted to have a life as well!
  • I was tasked with writing a formal specification for the language PHP, yet I had never looked at that language, let alone written a program in it. (The result was a 200-page spec that was well received by the industry.)
  • For 15 months, I chaired the JavaScript^TM standards committee without ever having written a program in that language.
• I taught myself about formal computer language grammars.
• I learned how to write formal/precise specifications.
• I learned how to successfully participate in, and lead, committees. (See my essay, "March 2012: How Committees Work.")
• While a lot of programming languages have features (and even syntax) in common, there are more than a few that don't look like anything else. A few years ago, I had the privilege of working with a group that was designing a new language. Some things I thought fundamental to programming were missing, such as support for any kind of looping. (That was achieved by making recursive calls to methods!)
• My time with computers paid out, big time! It led to my designing and programming interesting applications; writing a lot of documentation; becoming a published author; becoming an editor and publisher; developing and teaching seminars; launching my consulting career; and it allowed me to get into the world of formal standards and specifications. The vast majority of my business travel supported these activities, and this led to an exposure and appreciation of cultural conventions and languages, as well as meeting a lot of very interesting people.
• In the good old days, one could work in the IT world for five years and be "King of the Hill!" However, ever since everyone could own their own computer, things have been evolving so much and so fast, one must constantly be aware of new inventions to remain relevant. That said, the leading edge is generally not the best place to be when managing an IT project that has budget constraints and deadlines.
• As an applications programmer, don't do critical testing on a remote computer in an unmanned hydro power station located way out in the woods, in the middle of the night. When I crashed the remote computer, two electricians had to be called in to drive out there at 2 am, to reboot the system, and they each got paid for four hours.
• The way to distinguish yourself from the pretenders is to charge a higher hourly rate. Regarding rates, 30-odd years ago, I decided that beyond (then) US$65/hour, one needed to sell oneself differently. Up to that point, people had an image of how much tangible work product one could produce in an hour. Beyond that rate, one had to convince them one was getting them to a point they couldn't get themselves, or by making their people productive (such as charging US$2,500/day to train 20 of their employees in a new technology).

Politics and Government

In all my years in school in rural Australia, I don't recall much time being spent on civics. And I certainly never developed much of an interest in politics, except perhaps for South Australian Premier (and for some years, my local state representative), Donald Dunstan. (BTW, in Australia, voting is compulsory!) However, once I moved to the US and decided to stay, I started paying more attention, and have since developed a significant interest in the US Federal Senate and the Supreme Court. I've also been known to take a copy of the US Constitution with me on vacation, just for some light reading!

See my essays, "September 2012: A Little Bit of American Civics" and "October 2012: A Little Bit More American Civics."

Lessons learned:

• For a very long time, I've theorized that the best form of government is a benevolent dictatorship. However, as it happens, most dictators don't start out as benevolent, or if they do, they don't stay that way. In any event, I've decided that it would be most embarrassing to be appointed "King of the World" and not have a plan, so, just in case, I am working on a plan, so I can "hit the ground running!"
• I really don't like that US law allows sales and other businesses callers to be placed on a "Do not call" list but exempts politicians and political parties.
• I much prefer the US Congressional system over the British Parliamentary system. Having a CEO for a country makes as much sense as it does for a company. This completely avoids coalition governments and all their problems, as well as paralysis in decision making in a country where big decisions are made by consensus instead of by a single leader.
• To be elected President or Vice President of the US, one must be born a US citizen; one cannot simply have acquired citizenship later.
• My baptism of fire in the US was a year in Chicago, where I first learned about the suggestion to, "Vote early and vote often!"
• Given the way in which men have run the world for a very long time, I'm more than happy to let woman have a try.

There's a story that some years ago, the winter here in the Washington DC area was so cold, that Federal politicians were seen with their hands in their own pockets!

Mark Twain once wrote, "Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself." 

I've read most of Bill Bryson's books. From his "Down Under/In a Sunburned Country" comes the following wickedly funny quote: "… John Howard [who at the time was Prime Minister of Australia] is by far the dullest man in Australia. Imagine a very committed funeral home director – someone whose burning ambition from the age of eleven was to be a funeral home director, whose proudest achievement in adulthood was to be elected president of the Queanbeyan and District Funeral Home Directors' Association – then halve his personality and halve it again, and you have pretty well got John Howard."

Winston Churchill famously said, "Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.…'

There is a joke about Gough Whitlam, one-time Prime Minister of Australia, when he was asked, "Do you have a plan to shorten the unemployment lines?" To which he replied, "I'd ask the people to stand closer together!"

To read about my involvement in the 2008 US Presidential election, as an independent, who had just obtained US citizenship, see my essay, "August 2010: Confessions of an Obama Volunteer." Also see, "June 2010: Australia and the U.S. – A Contrast."

Children and Parenting

Adopting a child generally involves a lot of time, paperwork, and sometimes legal expenses. And you can be turned down for all kinds of reasons. But to produce your own child you simply need a partner of the opposite sex and a bottle or two of wine! (For advice on how to do this, see Dave Barry's absolutely hilarious book, "Babies and Other Hazards of Sex: How to Make a Tiny Person in Only 9 Months, with Tools You Probably Have Around the Home," copies of which I have often given to parents expecting their first child.)

Lessons learned:

• Sometimes the most important things are not regulated, but perhaps they should be.
• Don't be an enabler. (See "Volunteerism and Philanthropy" below.)
• I once read that, "Children are for people who can't have dogs!" That is, if you had a well-behaved dog, why on earth would you be messing with kids? Why indeed!

Someone once wrote that, "Children should be seen and not had!" a subtle variation on this version. Also, "While children in the backseat can cause accidents, accidents in the backseat can cause children!"

For my experience at establishing an allowance for my son, see "September 2010: Making Allowances."

ESL/ESOL Tutoring

[The teaching of English to adults has often gone by the terms "English as a second language (ESL)" or "English for speakers of other languages (ESOL)."]

See my essay, "August 2011: Teaching English as a Second Language."

I've tutored three long-term clients in English: A young laborer from El Salvador, an older farm worker from Mexico, and a 30-something university graduate from Afghanistan. And I did it with minimal training. In the first case, the man was illiterate in his own language, Spanish, and he had no numeracy skills. We mostly worked on speaking and reading, with some writing. In the second case, it was all about conversation. And in the third case, it involved reading, writing, and formal grammar. In all cases, we met for an hour each week.

Lessons learned:

• While having some knowledge of the student's language can be an asset, don't use it more than is absolutely necessary. Afterall, they are there to learn English, so they need to hear and speak it.
• Although a student might be able to read and write some English sentences, that doesn't mean they understand them. Make sure they comprehend them as well!
• Don't let a student waste your (or their) time! They need to
  • Arrive to lessons on time.
  • Come prepared to learn.
    • Bring a pen/paper or electronic device to take notes.
    • Bring appropriate materials/handouts from previous meetings.
    • Bring questions about words, signs, and such they have heard/read since the previous meeting.
    • Be ready to engage, be proactive, ask questions, and make mistakes.
  • Do work between meetings.
• Ideally, visible progress should be seen at each meeting.
• Each meeting's work should build on or reinforce that from previous meetings.

Volunteerism and Philanthropy

I've been involved with volunteer work and philanthropy for 50-odd years.

Lessons learned:

• Ignoring external influences (which can sometimes be very significant), most adults in trouble are exactly where they deserve to be based on the decisions they've made or those they have refused to make.
• Way too many people claiming to be helping, either are not, or are actually getting in the way!
• Some volunteers aren't committed. My worst experience of this was a woman telling me, "Don't blame me, I'm only a volunteer!" My reply, "You should do your best and take pride in whatever you do whether or not you are paid!"
• Bureaucracy can get in the way. When I called a non-profit group asking about making a donation, I was told, "We only do fundraising twice a year, and now isn't one of those times" They either couldn't or wouldn't take my money!
• All the petty (and not-so-petty) politics from a paid job pervade volunteer groups. Some members want to take all the credit and none of the blame!
• Beware of becoming an enabler (he says from experience). According to Wikipedia, "In a negative sense, "enabling" can describe dysfunctional behavior approaches that are intended to help resolve a specific problem but in fact may perpetuate or exacerbate the problem." Some people must hit rock bottom before they can start saving themselves or be saved by others.
• It's important to understand Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. People at different levels need different treatment/support.
• I've learned to practice tough love. When people complain to me about their situation, I often ask the following:
  • Who has the most to gain by having a good outcome? You do! And who has the most to lose by having a bad outcome? You do! So, who should be putting in most of the effort to turn things around? You, of course! So, what are you doing about it? Don't just tell me what you think someone else should be doing!
  • If you aren't interested in yourself, then why should anyone else be interested in you?
• I very much appreciate the old proverb, "Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime."

See my essay, "January 2013: Starting your Own Non-Profit."

On Being Self-Motivated and, Eventually, Self-Employed

I distinctly remember it was during my final high-school year (in 1969, at age 15) that I realized I was an entrepreneur-in-waiting! Of course, for more than a few years after that, I worked for someone else and (mostly, but not always) followed their orders. (I once refused a direct order from a corporate Vice President, and kept my job!)

At age 18, I bought my first car, a Morris Minor utility vehicle (AU: ute). Not long after, I met an elderly woman who wanted someone to haul away trash from her yard and to clean out some sheds. I took on the job, and as we got along so well, she kept finding things for me to do, and she insisted on feeding me a big lunch each time. I then bought a lawn mower, which I used to trim her grass on a regular basis. This was my first business, and I did it on weekends and evenings.

I learned about a construction site that needed a laborer on weekends to clean-up after the bricklayers, plumbers, roofers, and other tradesmen were done (they only worked Monday–Friday), and to prepare for their next week's work by digging drainage trenches for pipes, and hauling bricks and tiles.

My first professional job was managing a small quality control lab at a vegetable oil factory. After being there for more than a year, I found that management really needed someone to fill plastic bottles with vegetable oil, but they didn't have anyone to do it. I proposed that as I had keys to the plant, I knew how to drive a forklift, and "Mr. Efficiency" was my nickname, I could do it on weekends, when the plant was idle. And as I would do it as a contractor, there were no union problems.

My second professional job was as a lab technician in the pesticide-residues section of a state government food and drug lab. And while the work was interesting and had socially redeeming value (we were watchdogs over the state capital's egg, milk, and fruit and vegetable supply), it left a lot of idle time while lab equipment ran unattended for hours processing samples. I noticed that the agency had no central process for getting repairs done to structural things like plumbing, exhaust fans/fume hoods, and power supplies. So, I offered to be the "go-to" guy, which got me out and about looking for the Public Buildings Department tradespeople in the surrounding building complex. Although there was no monetary gain, I learned the value of creating a job tailor-made for myself without having to compete with others. (In that role, I had the distinct pleasure of meeting with, and talking to, Sir Mark Oliphant, a prominent Australian physicist who worked on the Manhattan Project, and who was at the time we met, the Governor of South Australia, the Queen's representative in that state.)

In 1976, I changed careers, moving from chemistry to computer programming (at the South Australian state Department of Highways). A year into that, I saw an opportunity to do something different and challenging with a highway-planning engineer. Once he saw that I was interested in his project, he had me unofficially seconded to him. Eventually, that led to a second project. And, ultimately, to a transfer to the Digital Mapping group. Once there, as well as designing and coding several mapping-related systems, I proposed a plan to make the whole office more productive by having me stay (outside ordinary Government hours) to run stand-alone computer backup each week, which allowed them an extra half day/week of computer access.

In July 1984, having a newly minted Green Card, I went into business for myself as an independent computer consultant. At the same time, my wife and I bought a 3-story townhouse, and our son was born. There was absolutely no room for failure; there was no Plan B! As such, I worked furiously for at least a year doing whatever it took, after which time, I started thinking about working smart; that is, being more efficient. This resulted in two rules, which I have never violated and that I have reinforced many times:

1. Never, ever hire anyone.
2. Take as much time off as I can afford. (That started at three months off per year, spread over the year, then grew to six months, and eventually to nine months.)

When I moved to working halftime, someone asked me how I could afford to do that. My semi-serious response was, "I simply doubled my rate!"

See my essay, "October 2011: Starting Your Own Business."

Lessons learned:

• No matter who you actually work for, you really work for yourself!
• When you are self-employed, you can do anything, but you have to do everything! In a 1-person shop or small business, you are the technical person, the businessperson, the legal person, ….
• After my first (and only) time managing staff, I knew that I never wanted to do that again. Specifically, I did not want to be a psychologist, a psychiatrist, a marriage counsellor, or even a motivator. Instead, I was a doer!
• Something like 80% of all small businesses in the US fail in their first five years.
• Many small businesses are started by one person, who does not have a Number 2 person who can be trusted to run the business in the absence of the owner. As such, the owner often has little or no time off.
• Time away from work is important. See my essay, "July 2012: Are You Getting Enough Vacation?"
• The traditional model of working for many years and then retiring, has never been for me! I do not plan on retiring, ever!

See you in Part 3!

© 2008, 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

In Part 1, I spent a week in Milan, Italy, before flying to Seoul, South Korea. (This was in September of 2008.)

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off to Korea We Go!

Flight LH712 to Seoul's Incheon international airport finally took off at 7:10 pm, 75 minutes late. In the twilight, we headed east and north. This was my first time in Lufthansa Business Class and on an Airbus A340. It had an unusual configuration in that there was no First Class, just 54 large Business Class mini-suites, 2-2-2 across. I was in Seat 4K, starboard side window.

Where to begin describing all the facilities I had? Everything was controlled by a hand-held electronic unit. The seat had all kinds of adjustments and a massage option. It folded nearly flat at two meters long, longer than I was tall. And once one had found exactly the right back, head, leg, and arm settings, one could save those in the chair's memory for later recall. A privacy screen could be raised between neighboring seats. The amenities bag I was provided contained thick socks, eye shades, earplugs, toothbrush and paste, moist hand wipes, lip balm and skin cream, both in hazelnut flavor, don't you know! A bottle of water was in one of the many compartments. There was a 110/220-volt power outlet for laptop computers and the like. The 12" video screen was a pleasure to look at, and the professional headset was comfortable. There was none of this waiting for movies to start; everything was "on-demand." There were 69 video programs, 10 video games, 100 CDs (including audio books) and 30 radio channels. And of course, there was worldwide satellite phone service if one just had to be in touch with one's broker, darlings! Oh, and did I mention the hot tub, ski jump, and bowling alley? Just kidding; a hot tub would slop around too much during turbulence.

Once the hot towels were handed out, menus followed. None of that small bit of folded, thin cardboard for Lufthansa. No, they had to have a 12-page booklet, in German, Korean, and English, with photos of expensive wine labels and Markus Del Monego, the first German World Champion sommelier. And then there were pictures of dead fish that had given their very lives for our upcoming feast.

For dinner, I chose the Western selection. (None of that Korean rotting cabbage for me thanks very much!) To begin, there was the smoked filet of salmon with artichokes in pine-nut vinaigrette, or the terrine of venison with apple celery salad and quince compote. (I must say that, as far as I was concerned, sadly, the deer had died in vain.) Next was a tomato and cucumber salad with yogurt herb dressing. For the main course, one could choose from the grilled breast of poularde on pumpkin stew with potatoes, or the braised halibut in tarragon stock with root vegetables. The halibut was to die for! Then came camembert, Bavarian blue cheese, and linzer torte with whipped cream or fruit salad with grapes (no doubt, handpicked by virgins on some remote South Pacific Island). Of course, one could wash all of that down with hot or cold alcoholic or non-alcoholic drinks from a wide selection. And one could do all this without leaving one's seat! It was truly amazing. Having taken in food and drink continually all day, I declined the cheese, dessert, and after-dinner drinks.

I adjusted my pocket computer's time from Western Europe (GMT+1) to Korea (GMT+9), but allowing for daylight savings adjustment, I went from 8:11 pm Friday to 3:11 am Saturday, in an instant.

[Next day] At 5 am, Korean time, I put in my earplugs, got my eyeshades ready, and took a test drive of my electric-operated chair. I got it into the fully reclined position, and while it was long enough, the designers hadn't factored in my size 13 boots, which stuck upwards quite a ways. I positioned the large pillow that was provided and unwrapped my blanket. Lights out at 5:05. I drifted in and out of Neverland, regularly adjusting my position to get comfortable. Suffice it to say that five hours later, I was wide awake and feeling semi-rested. It was clear I should have experimented more with the seat positions earlier on. Oh well, next time, I'll be infinitely wiser!

So just how does one get from Frankfurt to Seoul by air when aviation fuel is so expensive? One goes northeast to Riga, Latvia; Tartu, Estonia; south of St. Petersburg, Russia; north of Moscow; clear across Russia to Novosibirsk; Ulan Bator, Mongolia; Beijing, China; south over China; and, finally, east across the Yellow Sea to Seoul. Total time: 10:30 hours. And we were scheduled to arrive only 40 minutes late.

At 10:45 am, breakfast was served. There was granola crunch cereal with honey yogurt, then ham, smoked turkey, and several cheeses; or scrambled egg with chives and fried potato wedges and peperonata. I had the cold cuts with orange and apple juice.

A Short Stop at Seoul International

We landed at 12:05 pm, at a real gate; none of this bus stuff! And, after a good hike, we lined up for the train. I was the last passenger on with the door closing on my backside. Last one on meant first one off, and soon, I was at the immigration counter. Unfortunately, I was missing a form, so I had to step out of the line, fill in a form, and get back in line. Some 45 minutes later, I was being processed, with the officer looking at the 5-year business visa I'd gotten in Washington D.C. He gave me a 3-month entry stamp.

By that time, my luggage was well and truly out, so I collected it, passed through customs, and went out into the arrivals hall. I coaxed 150,000 Korean won (about US$150) from a cash machine. I got 15 10,000 won bills. The friendly lady at the information desk directed me to bus stop 12B. A bus was waiting, so I paid my 5,000 won for a ticket, checked my luggage, and climbed aboard for the 40-minute ride to the old airport, Gimpo (GMP), from which most domestic flights now departed.

On to Jeju Island

At Gimpo, I checked in, and as it was an all-economy flight, I requested a seat with extra legroom, if possible. I was rewarded with an aisle seat that had no seat in front of it. I dropped by the Asiana Airlines Business lounge to rescue some nuts and two cold cans of absolutely fabulous mango and passion fruit juice.

Soon after 2:30 pm, I went back to security. No alarms this time, but for those of us who took off our footwear, we were given one-size-fits-all sandals (they don't really) to wear through the scanner. It was a good thing my gate was the furthest to walk, as I needed some exercise after a sedentary day and night. Some 10 minutes later, a young gate agent seemed to screech out an announcement, and everyone around me bolted for the boarding area. Apparently, my flight was ready for boarding.

Asiana Flight OZ8929 to Jeju Island (sometimes called Cheju) was uneventful and lasted about an hour. Although I was assigned a seat with reasonable legroom, I took over a whole exit row nearby and had even more space. On arrival at CJU, my luggage came out right away. I spied a vending machine with ice-cold cans of mango and passion fruit juice, so rescued three, drinking one on the spot.

Outside, the sun was streaming down, and all was right in that part of the world. I made my way across the parking lot towards Bus Stop 7. My resort hotel bus was not due for 30 minutes, so I stretched my legs for a bit. A young Chinese woman recognized me as a delegate from previous meetings of this committee, and introduced me to two of her fellow delegates. So, I slipped into work mode, and sat and talked with them throughout the 50-minute ride across the island.

At the Resort Hotel

We arrived at ShineVille Luxury Resort about 6 pm, as the sun started to set. Check-in was smooth, and I made my way to the new Building 3, 3^rd floor, Room 324. My building had cavernous lobbies, lots of large paintings and sculptures, marble everywhere, and absolutely no-one in sight. It looked rather like a sanitarium for very wealthy people. You know, the sort of place one goes when one is a bit run down from too many dinner parties and polo events!

My room was huge! It had a king-size bed, side tables and lamps, a large marble-topped work bench, dressing table, TV cabinet, lounge chairs, bar, and refrigerator, and lots of storage space. The bathroom had a shower stall, oversized tub, and vanity unit. Let's just say that it was more than adequate. By the time I unpacked, got email, and showered away 20 hours of travel grime, it was 9 pm, local time.

It was time to turn out the lights, but I was darned if I could find the switches. As is often the case with new "green" hotels, on entry to one's room, one must insert the electronic room key card into a slot to activate the room lights. That way, one can't waste energy by leaving the lights on when going out. However, removing my card also switched off the power outlets, and all my devices that were charging their batteries. So, I searched "upstairs, downstairs and in her Lady's chamber," but no switches were to be found. So, I sat on the bed looking for a "how to operate my room" instruction booklet, and when I opened the drawer of my bedside table, there, lo and behold, was a console with clock radio and light switches and dimmers. Well, of course; why didn't I think to look there to begin with?

[Next day] Although I woke a few times in the night, I was pleasantly surprised to hear my alarm at 8 am, having had nearly 11 hours sleep. At check-in, I'd received breakfast coupons, so, I went over to the main building to sample the buffet. I quickly scanned the Korean offerings, recognizing very little other than the green pea soup and salads with dressing (I am not joking), and made my way to the western spread. I joined a colleague, and we chatted while eating.

Meeting Day 1

I was there as the Head-of-Delegation from a consortium to committee ISO/IEC JTC 1/SC 34, otherwise known as SC 34. (This committee is a sibling of the one whose meeting I chaired the previous week in Milan.) Scheduled were several 3-day Working Group meetings in parallel followed by a 1-day plenary of the whole committee.

At 9 am, my three fellow delegates and I were seated, and, at 9:15, the meeting got underway. We broke for morning and afternoon tea. For lunch, I had a meeting over just about the worst Chinese food I'd had in a long while. Although it looked attractive, frankly, it was a lukewarm gelatinous mass! In the afternoon, I was called on unexpectedly to give a presentation. With questions and answers, it took more than two hours, and went very well.

At 6:30 pm, I joined a colleague from Germany and another from Italy, and we dined on bean soup, salad, and cheesecake with blueberry sauce. It was delicious, and more than compensated for the terrible lunch. In the basement, there was a convenience store, so I picked up some juice (can you say, "mango and passion fruit?"), milk, and other essentials.

It was clear from my attempts to communicate with members of the hotel staff that very few of them understood much English. Every question I asked resulted in a smile, nodding of the head, and a reply of "Yes," which often didn't mean that. Lights out at 11 pm.

Meeting Day 2

The bedding consisted of a very nice down-filled cover and a bottom sheet. Unfortunately, the cover was so efficient it trapped every bit of body heat, resulting in an oven-like atmosphere. Now while I like my surroundings much warmer than most, it was way too much even for me. I must have perspired a liter or two during the night, waking up many times in the process. Anyway, I forced myself out of bed soon after my 7-am alarm went off, showered, and worked until an 8-am breakfast meeting.

We started the session at 9, and the ritual was much like the day before, except that I skipped lunch. We broke early, and I worked from my room until 6:15 pm, when I joined the group for a banquet. Being allergic to shellfish, I scanned all the dishes eliminating more than half of them. However, there were plenty of choices remaining, and I joined a table of delegates from Korea.

After the dinner and speeches, I moved to another table to spend time with delegates from Finland, Denmark, Ivory Coast, Germany, and the U.S. From there, we moved to a lounge off the main lobby to talk while listening to two young Ukrainian women play piano and violin. It was a very pleasant evening. I'd gotten into a Robert Ludlum spy thriller in recent days, so read a few chapters before lights-out at 11 pm.

Meeting Day 3

I was up at 7 am, against my will, but still on local time, which was amazing. The entrance hall in my room had a ceiling light that was activated by movement; it had no switch. So, when I walked into that area, voila, the light came on. Unfortunately, if I didn't move around much, such as while dressing there, the light switched off. Then when I moved, it went back on. So, dressing each morning involved a disco-light show. It was a novelty for about 10 seconds! But that wasn't the silly part. Each morning, I shaved at the sink in the bathroom just inside the doorway off that entrance, and each time I moved my right arm, the electric eye sensed movement, and the light show was repeated. Basically, it was a high-tech solution in search of a problem! I skipped breakfast and had an 8-am meeting.

The group met until 11, then adjourned until the following morning. I worked in my room until noon, at which time, I joined everyone for a salad and spaghetti lunch. I ate with the three delegates from India. After lunch, I settled into more work while most people went on a half-day bus tour of tourist spots on our side of the island. (I'd done something similar during my previous visit some years earlier.)

Around 6 pm, one of my Microsoft colleagues, Doug, and I decided to venture "off campus" for dinner. Eventually, we met an assistant manager who spoke English. I asked him to write in Korean that I was allergic to shellfish. He went one better, calling a restaurant, ordering for us, and asking them to send a car to pick us up.

We were taken to the Si-Gol Restaurant for a traditional Korean BBQ. The table was about 12" high with a gas burner set inside a large cast iron cooker. When the sloping lid was put in place, it served as the cooking surface with fat running down away from the meat. A hostess in traditional dress came and showed us how to cook the meat, onion, and potato slices. Some 16 separate small dishes of different vegetables and sauces appeared, and we were each issued a set of metal chopsticks. Doug tried a local beer while I had Coke. Surprisingly, I liked pretty much everything, and the total cost for two was only about $25.

The manager loaded us into his van, and drove us to a beach, so Doug could shoot some photos. Thinking that we'd just be a few minutes, I left my jacket in the van. However, when next we looked, the van was nowhere in sight. We just figured the driver would be back "soon." Time passed, and we walked around the village looking at the large tanks of fish in front of each restaurant, and ate ice creams. Eventually, we decided our driver wasn't coming back, so we caught a taxi and tried to find our restaurant to see if I could retrieve my coat, but the driver didn't know the place and we couldn't remember how we drove there. So, he took us back to our hotel. After trying to communicate with the staff, a bellman produced a plastic carry-bag containing my coat. Apparently, our driver had found it and brought it back. Don't you just love that when that happens! Lights out by 11 am.

Meeting Day 4

An emergency had arisen over night, so when I got my morning email, I had a medium-sized fire to fight, which I had to do in the background throughout the day while paying attention to the plenary meeting. I lunched with colleagues and took a walk down to the lava rocks along the coast.

I was very busy all afternoon interjecting at times to mention various procedural problems. We adopted all the resolutions unanimously and adjourned at 4 pm. We scheduled the next meeting of my group for February in Okinawa, Japan, and the next full plenary in Prague, Czech Republic, next March. It was a very successful week for me and my project. From there, it was back to my room to work on a second major problem.

Doug and I had a quick dinner meeting, and then I was back at my keyboard until the problem was solved at 1 am. Along the way, I phoned Geneva, Switzerland, to get some help transferring some very large files to a website. By the time I put the light out at 1:15 am, I was well and truly pooped.

Back to the Mainland

I didn't much care to hear my alarm at 7:30 am, having had less than six hours sleep. However, the shower helped to wake me, and soon after I was having my final breakfast, with a colleague. At 8:50, I was checked out and waiting for the bus. The large bus was full, mostly with Korean tourists. The 50-minute ride to the airport in Jeju City was uneventful. Although I had a nice seat with plenty of legroom, right in the back row, I was unable to sleep, until, that is, we were nearly at our destination. In all the built-up areas along the way, every 100 yards, a pair of Korean flags flew, on both sides of the road.

At CJU, one of the very pleasant representatives from Asiana Airlines checked me in. Her colleague then escorted me the 100 yards to the business lounge. I was the only customer, and I settled down to some coffee and pastries while surfing the internet looking at U.S. and Australian newspapers, with one ear on CNN International's coverage of the financial crisis back home. It was a small but comfortable lounge with basic but adequate facilities. The refrigerator was filled with all kinds of unusual drinks, such as rice milk, real soy milk (I hate that fake stuff!), and my favorite, Pocari Sweat. (Don't you just want to race out and buy and drink a can of something called sweat?)

At 11:45 am, I left the lounge and headed for security. To say that the check was cursory would be an understatement; no need to take my laptop from its bag, and no need to take off my boots containing metal bits. I beeped going through the screener, but after a quick hand scan, I was on my way.

Downstairs at Gate 8, my boarding pass was checked, and I was informed of a 10-minute delay. I tried to blend in with the other passengers waiting, but there I was, a 6'4" Caucasian surrounded by 120, 5', 13-year-old giggly, Korean schoolgirls in their navy-blue uniforms. After a while, several of them approached me, and in nervous English asked if I'd mind having my photo taken with them. I agreed, and when I stood up, they gasped at this foreign giant in their midst. We all said "cheese" as pictures were taken.

We had a short bus ride to our Boeing 737-400. After boarding, I was seated "front and center," on the aisle in the first row. I was surrounded by a group of Asiana employees headed to work on the mainland. With much bowing towards us honored guests, the flight attendants took us through the safety demonstration. Then, I felt extra special as the instructions were repeated in English for an audience of one, me.

It was another nice sunny day with a gentle breeze. Flight OZ8916 went through a little turbulence as we climbed up through the clouds, but then it was smooth sailing. The seats were quite narrow by my standards; however, the petite Koreans seemed to have plenty of room to spare. The two flight attendant passengers seated next to me took a nap and then decided to chat with me once I gave them each some candy from Milan. One gave me a nice Asiana Airline pen.

At GMP, we pulled up at an actual gate, and I was first off the plane. It was a long walk to the baggage area, and the escalators were ever so happy to start moving as their electric eyes detected my approach. In minutes, the luggage arrived, and my bag was first out. I enquired as to the location of the inter-airport bus. I was directed across the street where I bought a 5,000 won ticket, the coach pulled up, we loaded and were on our way, all in five minutes. At precisely 2:08 pm, the white-gloved bus driver rose, faced us, bowed very low, and welcomed us aboard. His neat uniform came with so many stripes on his shoulder boards that I figured he was at least a Brigadier General!

We were on our way to Incheon International Airport (INC) via a busy freeway. There were quite a few rice fields then hothouses. For quite some distance we drove alongside a big canal construction project. The ride took 40 minutes, and to keep us entertained, a large flat-panel TV showed a news broadcast. Although the newsreader was serious during her presentation, I couldn't help but think she'd bought her jacket from a clown shop. Then some senior members of the U.S Senate came on to tell us what a wonderful job they'd done in getting a bill passed regarding the financial crisis, all with subtitles in Korean. We rode a long series of bridges over mud flats near small islands. The tide was out leaving an interesting landscape for miles.

Overnight at a Honeymoon Suite

At INC, I made my way to the information desk where the attendant phoned my hotel for a pickup. Apparently, the hotel car was at the airport already, so I only had to go out the nearest exit and hop in. It took 10 minutes on the freeway to get to downtown Incheon and to the hotel I'd booked via the internet. On arrival, I was ushered to the front desk where I filled in a registration form. The attendant was every so sorry that although I'd booked a deluxe room, none were available, so he'd upgrade me to the top level, which, it turned out, was called the Honeymoon Suite. However, as I discovered, no bride was provided!

Well, Room 301 was quite different from my previous digs. There were room slippers in the hallway, bathroom slippers outside the bathroom, and, yes, you guessed it, toilet slippers outside the toilet. The bed was quite large, and more than adequate, especially since I was bride-less. There was a sitting room, work desk complete with high-speed internet connection, large TV, small fridge, boiling and cold filtered water machine, and DVD and videotape player. And if one had left home without one's laptop computer, a full desktop system was provided. I connected to the outside world, immediately getting email from a variety of time zones. Then I phoned quite a few friends in Australia where it was school-holiday time and only 30–60 minutes ahead.

Soon after 5 pm, I ventured out. I stopped at the first convenience store to buy milk and juice. Just about every corner had a convenience store, which was, well, very convenient! There were many restaurants, some with outside eating areas. I finished up at one that showed pictures of their dishes with an English word or two of description. I ordered the pork and rice. It came within minutes and consisted of, yes, pork and rice, in a spicy sauce with seaweed and some chopped greenery "drizzled" on top. It was accompanied by a bowl of steaming miso (bean curd) soup and a tray of suspicious-looking vegetable matter, which I left for the waiter. Well, once I sat down and ordered, everyone wanted to dine there too, and soon the place was buzzing.

Once my food was served, I looked around for some utensils. ("Look in the bedside drawer," I hear you say, but, unfortunately, there was no such drawer.) Then I spied a metal cover over a hiding place built into the tabletop. I lifted the cover, and ... a big hairy, black rat jumped out right onto my plate. (Of course, I exaggerate; the rat was not that hairy nor really that big!) Actually, it was the cutlery drawer, and contained large metal serving spoons and flat metal chopsticks. I had to go through the whole collection before I found a right-handed pair! I took my time eating, writing in this diary, and generally listening to the chatter of the staff and patrons. The total cost of my meal was only $4.

By the time I went outside, it was dark, and there were flashing and fixed neon lights everywhere. I walked around some streets, which were crowded with restaurants, some of which were fronted by large tanks of fish, eels, and some critters that looked so odd I doubted even their mothers had loved them. A young man was walking a puppy on a leash, and my first thought was that he was headed to one of those "bring-your-own" restaurants! (Yes, Koreans eat dog meat!)

Just when I thought I was the only foreigner in the neighborhood, I spied a Caucasian couple headed my way. They lived in San Francisco where he was the pastor of a church. They were headed to Mongolia to dedicate a new Christian church their parish had helped found. By 7:30 pm, I was back in my room, having a tall glass of whole milk while watching some world news, presented by an Australian woman. The travel was catching up with me, so I filled the bathtub and then settled into a relaxing soak until the water went cold. Then I lay back in bed and read my novel. Lights out around 10 pm.

[Next day] I woke a few times during the night, but quickly got back to sleep each time. I had left a window open to let in some fresh air. Fortunately, it wasn't too noisy out, but I had my trusty earplugs in just in case. When I finally woke up, the room was so dark I thought it was quite early. However, my window shutters did a great job in keeping out the light. It was nearly 9 am, and quite bright out. I had a long and slow breakfast in my room, using up my emergency rations, milk, and juice. I hopped in the very large shower cubicle to find a 4-foot-high machine on the wall. After some detective work, I discovered I could have the water come out the overhead outlet, the hand-held device, or the body spray via the 2x3 jets that came from the waist up. What an experience!

Another Long Travel Day

Of course, more email had found me, so I took care of some business. Then I played some music and computer games. At 11:45 am, I was in the lobby checking out. I had just enough Korean currency to pay in cash. 10 minutes later, a driver pulled up and took me to the international airport, which was on the same large island as my hotel. There, check-in went smoothly, as did security and immigration, and then I made the long walk to the train station. ICN was only six years old and was a very pleasant airport.

I rode the automatic train to Terminal A, and then settled in at Asiana's Business Lounge. As I was going to get two meals on the flight to San Francisco, I declined all the nice-looking food and drinks. Many people were watching the large TV screens on which lots of discussion was going on regarding the US Vice-Presidential debate. I found a chair in a quiet corner, and worked on this diary.

At 1:20 pm, I left the lounge and headed for Gate 123 nearby. Five minutes later, we boarded United Airlines Flight 892, non-stop to SFO. I was seated in 11A with a great view just in front of the port-side engine of the Boeing 777. Champagne and juice were served. We took off, on time, at 2:10, and flew west out over the sea and surrounding islands. Then we went north and then east, not too far from the DMZ between the two Koreas. Where the land wasn't covered with residential buildings or small patches of forests there were rice fields. Soon after, we came close to downtown Seoul, a mass of business and residential high-rise buildings. From there it was east to Tokyo and beyond.

Service-wise, first came the usual bowl of nuts and a pre-lunch drink. Then came some smoked salmon, ham and cheese, and a salad. For the main course, on offer were pan-seared filet mignon with Hollandaise roasted tomato sauce, Cheddar cheese potato pie, and carrots and zucchini sauté; orange herb-roasted breast of chicken with demi-glace, Basmati rice, green beans, and red onions; or pan-seared sea bass with Korean anchovy sauce, steamed rice and spinach. I went with the Australian beef. It was adequate. For dessert, there was a selection of international cheeses or a chocolate tart, with port wine and coffee. I had the tart with coffee, but passed on the Reserve Port. Throughout the meal, I watched a movie that required no effort. "Get Smart," a remake of the popular TV series of the same name was, as I expected, incredibly lame. Next up was "Swing Vote." From the write-up, I didn't expect much; however, Kevin Costner's speech at the end brought a tear to my eye. The premise was the US Presidential election was tied, and it was up to the vote of one working-class man, Costner.

At 7 pm, Korean time, we crossed the International Date Line, just south of the Aleutian Island chain in Alaska. I moved my clock to Pacific Daylight Time, and started the same day over again. I put my seat all the way back and slept for two hours. And although I wanted more it was not forthcoming, so I filled out some travel expense reports while listening to music. Throughout the flight across the Pacific, a variety of snacks and drinks were on offer, as were hot noodles. An hour before landing, from 35,000 feet up, I could see the day breaking. Then, breakfast was served. The choices were onion omelet with mushroom cream sauce, Canadian bacon and sautéed potatoes, or a fresh seasonal fruit plate with creamy yogurt.

A Layover in San Francisco

Some 250 miles out, we started our descent through clouds. Due to a very strong tail wind, we were an hour ahead of schedule. 125 miles out, the first sunlight hit the plane, and the eastern sky turned orange. We crossed the coast some ways north of the city, and made our way down to the eastern end of the bay, and then on into SFO. Immigration went very quickly, and the agent welcomed me back home. My luggage came soon after and I dumped my bag on the transfer belt. Over at the domestic terminal, I went back through security and to United's Red-Carpet Club. Although I had a coupon to use a shower suite, I was informed that that was outside security some distance away. So much for that perk! I hooked up to email; as always, people were waiting to hear from me about one thing or another. I made a few phone calls; had some nice, flavored coffee; and took over a long lounge seat in a quiet back room. Unfortunately, sleep eluded me.

The Final Leg, Across the Continental US

After a 3-hour layover, at 11 am, I headed for Gate 90. Soon after, we boarded a Boeing 757 for Washington Dulles International. Flight UA872 took off at 11:39 with me in First Class Seat 2D. As soon as the wheels were retracted I closed my window shades, put in my earplugs, lay back my seat, and slept for four whole hours. It was wonderful! Of course, I slept through a lunch, but, frankly, I didn't need any more food.

I woke up about 30 minutes before landing, just in time to see the last of the orange sunset behind us. We approached IAD soon after 7:30 pm, a time when things were pretty quiet at that airport. I made my way to the main terminal on the mobile lounge, and my luggage was one of the first pieces out. I was soon in a cab racing towards Reston in the cool autumn breeze, and home around 9 pm, some 22 hours after I left my hotel in Korea.

After I unpacked, I made myself a hot cup of milk Milo (a chocolate drink popular with kids of all ages in Australia), took a very hot shower, and then watched the nightly US and world news. Lights out at 10:30 pm. Asleep at 10:30:30.

[Next day] I was wide awake at 2:30 am, so fixed myself a snack and worked in my office until about 7:30 am. Then it was time to finish off this diary. My weekend schedule was wide open, so I was free to sleep as the mood struck me.

The Trip Details

Here are the stages of the round-the-world trip:

1. Taxi from home to IAD
2. Washington DC Dulles (IAD) to Frankfurt (FRA), United Airlines, Boeing 767, 4,080 miles, 7:45 hours
3. Frankfurt (FRA) to Milan Linate (LIN), Lufthansa, Boeing 737, 319 miles, 1:10 hours
4. Taxi from LIN to my hotel
5. Six nights in Milan
6. Taxi from my hotel to LIN
7. Milan Linate (LIN) to Frankfurt (FRA), Lufthansa, Boeing 737, 319 miles, 1:20 hours
8. Frankfurt (FRA) to Seoul Incheon (INC) Lufthansa, Airbus A360, 5,324 miles, 10:30 hours
9. Bus from Seoul Incheon (INC) to Seoul Gimpo (GMP)
10. Seoul Gimpo (GMP) to Jeju/Cheju (CJU), Asiana, Airbus A320, 300 miles, 1:05 hours
11. Hotel bus to hotel
12. Five nights in ShiveVille Luxury Resort
13. Hotel bus from hotel
14. Jeju/Cheju (CJU) to Seoul Gimpo (GMP), Asiana, Boeing 737, 300 miles, 1:05 hours
15. Bus from Seoul Gimpo (GMP) to Seoul Incheon (INC)
16. Hotel car from ICN to my hotel
17. One night in airport hotel
18. Hotel car from my hotel to ICN
19. Seoul Incheon (INC) to San Francisco (SFO), United Airlines, Boeing 777, 5,664 miles, 9:45 hours
20. San Francisco (SFO) to Washington DC Dulles (IAD), United Airlines, Boeing 757, 2419 miles, 5:06 hours
21. Taxi from IAD to home

In summary, over 14 days I flew eight flights with three airlines, and used six different airports in four countries. I flew in five different models of planes, had nine airline meals, flew 18,725 miles (29,860 kms) in 37:46 hours, and traveled a total of 63 hours. Of course, I crossed all 24 time zones, but remained entirely in the northern hemisphere, indeed, north of the Tropic of Cancer.

Once I was home, the good news was that I didn't have to fly anywhere for three whole weeks, after which time a 4-day trip cross-country to Los Angeles, California, will seem like a trip to the local shopping center, although it will still involve a 3-time-zone change. But then, it will be good practice for my up-coming trips to Japan in November, and Europe in December. I can hardly wait!

© 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

From time to time during my travels, I come across signs that I find interesting for one reason or another. Sometimes, they contain clever writing, are humorous, or remind me of some place or event. Here are some from trips to Australia and around Virginia, USA.

© 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

In my formative years, I lived in rural areas on farms with no nearby neighbors, and with siblings at least five years older than me who, for some years, boarded away from home during the school week. I learned how to entertain myself and I developed a vivid imagination. I explored, I experimented, and I found a way to earn money.

I don't know when it happened, but at some point, at least subliminally, I realized that reading could lead to learning, learning could lead to doing interesting things, and doing interesting things could lead to a fulfilling life. I also recognized that no-one else—least of all, my parents—was going to help me on that path, so I'd have to go it alone. And I was in a hurry! While I went the formal education route, I never shied away from investing in my own learning outside any formal structure. And now, with access to the internet, the world really is my oyster!

I've always been curious. I want to know what's on the other side of that hill, or what's around the next corner. And I'm always interested in the bigger picture, at the national and international level. This is reflected by the fact that I am a traveler rather than a tourist. I'm more than happy to discover things for myself rather than have someone lead me to them. I'm always asking questions and talking to strangers, especially if they have well-behaved dogs.

I didn't always have confidence, but I was never afraid to make mistakes, even large ones, publicly! (As Nietzsche famously said, "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger!") And especially not when I was learning and trying out foreign languages as I traveled. With respect to getting noticed, I've long claimed that being different is far easier than being better, and I have no trouble whatsoever in being different.

I'm a life-long learner, but for most topics, I'm not interested in becoming an expert; I just want to know enough to have a basic understanding and to be conversant enough to discuss and ask intelligent questions, and to appreciate the knowledge and its impact.

When did I first consciously set out to learn something? It was always there in some form, but I didn't really recognize it formally until I was in my early 30s. While I was waiting to get permanent residency (my Green Card, that is) here in the US, I started researching topics that I thought I might learn and use as the basis of the consulting business I'd start once I could be self-employed.

While I certainly learned a lot of things in the 25 years prior to moving to the US, the vast majority of what I have done in the 45 years since then is based on skills and knowledge that have been self-taught after my arrival.

In this multi-part essay, I reflect on some of my areas of interest and experience, and what I've learned about them and myself along the way. And the learning is far from over; I set out to learn things small and large, on a regular basis, and that's one reason I don't ever expect to retire in any traditional sense. There is so much new and interesting stuff going on in my professional world that I want to learn, and if I can make money from it along the way, that's OK too, but that's not a requirement.

Note that while there are "Lessons learned" in each of the sections below specific to that section topic, at the very end, there are some general lessons that apply to many or all topics.

Reading for Pleasure

As far back as I can remember, I've liked reading. However, surprisingly, it wasn't until I was 60 years old that I got a public-library card and started borrowing books on a regular basis. (As I write this, in a typical week, I read 500–600 pages of fiction, along with 100–200 pages of nonfiction.) While I was in elementary school and high school, I borrowed the occasional book from the school's library. At the start of each school year, as my dad happily wrote out a check for school supplies, I bought all new textbooks and support materials, more than a few of which I kept until my late 50's. Later, I mostly bought books, especially those deeply discounted or second-hand.

[A favorite cartoon of mine shows Hägar the Horrible, the Viking raider, with his son, Hamlet, who's a lover not a fighter. Hägar asks Hamlet why he is always reading. Hamlet replies, "Because books tell you things!" In the next frame, Hägar takes Hamlet's book and holds it up to his own ear, but he can't hear a darned thing!]

Here in the US, we have a non-profit organization, Little Free Library, "that promotes neighborhood book exchanges, usually in the form of a public bookcase." I have a number of such bookcases in my town, and I see them regularly when I travel by car. In fact, I am so eager to get books that I carry spare books in both of my cars to exchange whenever the opportunity arises.

For details of my reading history and book ownership, see my essay "October 2010: Books by My Bed."

Lessons learned:

• I love printed books, and I love reading them. And while I do read a lot of reference material on-line, I have little interest in reading fiction or certain reference materials—think encyclopedic books or atlases—that way.
• When looking at prospective novels to read, I generally reject them if any of the following are found, regardless of the storyline: Chapters longer than 20 pages, very narrow margins, small font size, passive writing, or very long paragraphs.
• During high school, given the material, the teaching approach, and my very young age (I finished Year 12 a week before I turned 16!), I developed a distaste for literature. More than 50 years later, I still feel the same way, and that's OK with me!
• When I stay in someone else's house and they have books, I always browse through them, looking especially at topics that are new/unknown to me. It's good to occasionally read outside one's preferred genres!
• I've become a huge fan of Wikipedia, and a regular donor towards its maintenance.

Writing for Pleasure

I came to writing much, much later than reading! I've never kept a daily diary, and when I left Australia in 1979 and traveled in Asia and Europe for five weeks on my way to the US, I never made any notes of that trip. (Forty years later, my essay describing that trip, "June 2019: Travel – From Adelaide to Washington DC," was written entirely from memory!)

The first time I wrote anything personal that was non-trivial was a diary covering my 2-week trip across southern Chile and Argentina in 1991, at age 38. I wrote in a medium-sized, spiral-bound notebook, and I glued in all kinds of things like plane and bus tickets, postcards, receipts, and admission tickets. I continued this habit for about 10 years until I got my first electronic device with which I could travel, a Personal Digital Assistant (PDA) and, later, a small laptop computer (see my essay, "June 2011: Just Me and MiniMe: Traveling with Technology). In 2023, I used MS Word's speech-to-text facility to transcribe my paper diaries into an electronic form, which I then linked many items to Wikipedia.

In 2012, I started thinking about all the places I'd lived. After a short while, I got so much information in my head that I started typing notes on my computer. A bit later, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd flesh it out into an autobiography. After sleeping on this idea for a few weeks—which allowed me to look beyond the romantic aspects of such an endeavor and for reality to set in—it still seemed like a good idea, despite the fact that I knew it would be a lot of work. It was, but it was worth it. It ran 125 pages, and covered the first 25 years of my life, up until the time I moved to the US. (More than a little of that diary has appeared in autobiographical essays on my blog.)

Lessons learned:

• I love to write, although it's all technical or about personal experiences. I've never tried writing fiction, and my writing rarely contains dialog.
• One early morning, while lying in bed in Germany, jetlagged, I came up with an idea for a series of short pieces, each with an accompanying photo, built around the travels of an inanimate object. I occasionally come across the notes I recorded at that time, but I have not yet turned them into anything concrete. That said, given the right motivation, I might have some fiction in me!
• Despite my early ruination with literature, on very rare occasions I have written some credible poetry.
• Despite having written many thousands of pages, I have never, ever been interested in learning how to type. I'm strictly a hunt-and-peck guy, which works for me. As a consequence, unlike some other prolific writers I've met, I've never suffered from repetitive strain injury (RSI).
• One of my greatest takeaways about writing was from Strunk and White's well-known book, "The Elements of Style." It was, "Less is more." Don't write more words than you need to describe a situation!

In 1995, during a 4-weekend university English course, I discovered written essays, and then went on to appreciate spoken and video versions thereof. I also found that I could write essays. In fact, when I started my blog in 2009, I adopted the essay form for each installment.

My (extensive) experience in writing for publication is covered in the next section.

Writing for Publication, Editing, and Publishing

For the past 40 years, I've been writing for publication, either as a paid feature writer or columnist, or as the editor of formal IT specifications. Along the way, I dreamed up the idea for a new publication and was its founding editor, and later I was the editor and publisher of a quarterly journal. For details of these activities, see my essay, "February 2022: Oh the Things that I have Written."

Lessons learned:

• There is nothing quite like a deadline to get the creative juices flowing. While sometimes struggling to get started on a piece, more than a few times it finally took off and was so long it had to be broken into two or even three parts!
• Following the adage, "A picture is worth a thousand words," in technical writing, I've found that a visual aid such as a not-too-long-or-complicated computer program, a table, or a figure can be the key to writing understandable narrative. While it might take a while to get the right illustration, once found, the explanatory text easily follows.
• A lot of people can write well but can't deliver on time. A lot of people can deliver on time, but their material is mediocre or worse. It's a rare writer who can consistently deliver quality material in a timely fashion!
• Books on the mechanics of writing often stress the need to write, rewrite, and rewrite again. I have never followed that advice (which, I think comes mostly from teachers of writing rather than from successful writers themselves). For a technical piece for which I have a deadline, I write it, I proof it once for content accuracy, and once more from an English-language perspective. The proofing stages might take place over some days, which gives the piece "time to bake." Then I ship it. If you look at things you wrote much earlier, you'll always find ways to tweak (maybe even improve) it, but is it good enough as it is for its intended audience?
• The shelf life of a publication matters. What goes into printed books can have a very long lifetime and can't be amended. However, magazines are "throwaway" materials; you read them the week they arrive or in the Doctor's office. Of course, having all kinds of publications online changes that, both in lifetime and the ability to make changes.
• The choice of page-layout options is important regarding things like font size, typeface, whether lines are right-justified, and whether bad line- and page-breaks exist. Though rarely used in most writing, nonbreaking spaces help to make writing aesthetically pleasing to read. (See my essay, "December 2011: Making Good-Looking Documents.")
• Understand and use your word processor's grammar- and punctuation-checking options.

[Another favorite cartoon of mine is from Shoe, in which all the participants are birds, working in a newspaper office up in a tree. The editor asks a staff writer how his column is coming along, to which the writer replies, "It's all finished except for the words!" I can certainly relate to having an empty page not too long before a deadline.]

See my essay, "April 2013: Standards – The Secret Life of a Language Lawyer."

Coming to Grips with English Grammar

Having attended a 1-teacher school in my early years, with 28 students in seven grades being taught simultaneously, I never got a solid grounding in English grammar and punctuation. And by the time I got to high school, it was assumed that I had one. Unlike US liberal arts universities, in Australia in the 70's, one did a 3-year degree, specializing in one's major from day 1, with no general education classes (such as English composition).

To me, grammar was an awfully dry subject to learn as an adult, unless one had a purpose, and for the longest time, I didn't. In any event, as a writer-for-publication, I had editors whip my submissions into shape. However, in 2012 (at age 59), I got into "formal English" mode, and started researching and writing about punctuation and grammar for my blog. (The 7-part series ran from June 2012 through October 2017.) I became so interested, I had to guard against having missionary zeal!

Prior to that, I had at least some need to understand grammar when I started learning Spanish and German. It's challenging to learn the grammar of another language when you don't know the grammar of your own!

Lessons learned:

• I love the US university liberal arts model partly because of its emphasis on helping students to have better written and oral communication skills.
• I love Patricia T. O'Conner's "Woe is I: The Grammarphobe's Guide to Better English in Plain English."
• While ending a sentence with a preposition is frowned upon in the British-English world, it is not in US-English. That said, when I find myself about to speak in that manner, I often turn it around in my mind before I say it. And I automatically avoid that in my writing, at least as often as it makes sense. I'm reminded of the time Winston Churchill—a great writer and orator—was accused of ending a sentence with a preposition. He replied something like, "You are correct, Madam; that is something up with which I will not put!"

Dabbling in Foreign Languages

See my essay, "November 2011: A Little Foreign Language Goes a Long Way."

My first foray into learning a foreign language was teaching myself German from a set of cassette tapes. I had no real purpose, it was rote learning, and I couldn't ask questions. It was not very successful! In any event, no-one seemed to actually use the recorded phrases in real life.

My first formal course involved 30 hours of introductory Spanish over 10 weeks with three hours each Saturday morning. It went very well, and, soon after, I started traveling in Latin America to try it out. Next up, was a similar course in German, but it turned out to be taught in German with materials in German. I did OK, but only because I bought a supplementary German grammar book in English. I then went back for a second class in Spanish, but I didn't much care for the teacher's style, nor the teaching materials.

Then just for something completely different, I set out to learn basic spoken Japanese from a book written in English and using Romaji, a way of writing Japanese using a Latin script. And all without speaking it or hearing it spoken. It was quite straightforward, and when I was first able to actually use it, it went quite well.

Over the years, I've looked a bit at Russian (Cyrillic alphabet), Greek (Greek alphabet), Dutch, and French.

Lessons learned:

• One needs to be realistic about the effort needed to learn a language as an adult. Each week, can you learn and remember 20 new words and the basic conjugations of 5–10 new verbs?
• Almost all my language learning has been self-taught by reading, trying it out, and asking questions. Most people who have learned a language don't use it that often, and as a result can understand more than they speak. I'm the complete opposite. I can speak far more than I understand. To get good at it, one must not simply learn the mechanics, one must master comprehension (which I have not), and that requires lots of listening.
• I don't do well at all in a language immersion class. I need the materials and teacher to at least start in English.
• I don't care for language labs that involve recording and playing back one's voice. I'd rather be out there "living it and making my own mistakes."
• I want to be able to communicate rather than be fluent.
• When I started looking at Japanese, my first writing system that did not use Latin letters, I quickly decided that up to a point, it is OK to speak a language without being able to read or write it. (Technically, that is being illiterate!)
• While German has three genders, Spanish has only two, which is still one too many! And so, when I discovered that Japanese has no gender, no articles, no plurals, and no verb conjugation, I was ecstatic. (Of course, they complicate things a great deal when it comes to reading and writing.)
• My German grammar textbook tells me, "There are eight common ways to form a plural in German." Really? I don't even want to think how many uncommon ways there are!
• I like to be correct, but when one learns how to say in perfect Japanese, "I do not speak Japanese." that can confuse the listener.
• Those foreigners have words for everything! Just when you think you know something, such as the words for dog or flower, you realize that you don't know the words for any breeds or species!
• Even if you learn only a few words and phrases (along with a few cultural gestures), when you use them in the right context, they can gain you considerable respect.
• No matter how much formal training you receive, in the real world, people do not use the same statements and questions you learned! You must learn the phrase patterns and be ready to substitute different nouns and adjectives (for example) in those patterns.
• You need to stop thinking in terms of English. Spanish (and some other languages) has the adjective after the noun, which is OK. Russian has no articles. Their rules are not stupid or wrong, they are just different!
• Not all written languages use an alphabet. (Japanese uses Kanji ideograms and kana syllabaries.)

Travel

For much of the past 40+ years, I've travelled extensively, both in the US and abroad. (See the trip diaries and travel-related essays on my blog, many of whose titles begin with, "Memories of ….") As I am not a fan of cold weather, each northern winter I look to go someplace warm for a few weeks (think, Central America or the Caribbean). However, several years before the Covid pandemic, I just couldn't get enthusiastic about going anywhere, not even on one of the many free tickets I had in my frequent-flyer bank. It occurred to me that after two million air miles (see my essay, "May 2010: Travel – Fly Me to the Moon") and 65 countries/regions, I'd had enough! That said, although I didn't get on a plane for three years after Covid hit, I have more than a few flying trips in the planning stages should I ever get motivated.

Travel has greatly improved my language skills, my geography and history appreciation, my understanding of government and local conventions and customs, and it inspired my long-running blog series, "What is Normal?"

For some details of my travel accommodation, see my essay, "December 2014: Travel – Oh the Places I have Stayed."

Lessons learned:

• Normal is relative and changes every 100 miles (or 100 kms) in small and large ways. You would do well to understand this regarding travel in your own country, let alone travelling to another. It's OK that your normal isn't the same as other peoples' normal; embrace it and learn from it! (See the section, "What is Normal," below.)
• When you travel, if you want things to be just like when you are at home, then perhaps you should stay there!
• Always have a Plan B, even for Plan B! (See my essay, "January 2018: Having a Plan B.") This advice is applicable to life, in general. Don't ruin, or let others ruin your trip because you or they aren't flexible.
• Being in possession of an airline ticket is no guarantee you will get on that flight, or any other flight!
• For ideas of what I've learned about packing and luggage, see "January 2012: Travel – Packing and Preparing."
• For my experiences with airports, see "January 2017: Travel – Airports."
• Be prepared for unexpected wait times/delays at airports, train stations, and such, and take along an activity (such as a book to read or a puzzle to do), especially when traveling with kids.
• Ranting at a hotel desk clerk, an airline employee, or other such travel-related person who is just trying to do their job won't do you any good. (He says, having witnessed firsthand numerous such confrontations, one of which ended in the offending woman being arrested at an airport and her small children taken away by child-custody services!)
• Remember that you are an ambassador to your hometown, state, or country.
• Always take some small sheets of aluminum foil with you. It has a myriad of uses and takes no space to carry.
• When planning any trip, it's good to ask yourself, "How do I expect to be changed/improved by the experience?"
• To really engage with the locals, stay with host families or rent rooms in private houses.
• To learn a lot about a culture
  • Walk through a store or market and try to identify what everything is and how its name differs from what you are used to.
  • Sit in a public place and watch everyone go by.
  • Watch tradesmen at work. There are alternate ways of getting things done.
  • Hop on a local train or bus, ride to the end of the line, and spend some time in the terminating village/area.
  • Try to communicate with the locals.
• While I'm a traveler rather than a tourist, each has its advantages and disadvantages. It's OK to be one or the other, or a hybrid of the two.
• Traveling completely around the world on a few, long flights, going east is tough (I've done it four times.) I find it very challenging to pretend that each travel day is (sometimes significantly) less than 24 hours. Although I am in no hurry to do it going west, I suspect that would be much easier.

When someone says to you, "Why do you travel so much? We have everything we need right here, at home. We have no need to go anywhere else!", you might think it a lost cause to try and convince them of the benefits of travel. But if you are inclined to try, quote to them the following from Mark Twain: "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime." (He is widely recognized as having written the first modern travel book, The Innocents Abroad.)

What is Normal?

I've written extensively on this topic. For the first blog essay on that blog series, see "What is Normal – Part 1: Getting Started.")

Lessons learned:

• Never say never about possible cultural differences and conventions. For example, some writing systems go left-to-right, top-to-bottom; others go right-to-left, top-to-bottom; while still others go top-to-bottom, right-to-left. While I don't know of any that go bottom-to-top, I wouldn't be surprised. Afterall, it's just a convention!
• Just because you don't understand something doesn't mean it's silly or stupid. Saying so just displays your ignorance and/or unwillingness to understand (and even appreciate) an alternate approach or viewpoint.
• I am very proud of never having been accused of being normal!

Conclusion

Without a doubt, the biggest lesson that I've learned in my 70 years on this planet, is that my three worst enemies are frustration, frustration, and frustration! What are yours?

See you in Part 2!

© 2008, 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

After traveling continuously on business for eight months, from late August 2007 until the end of April 2008, I gave myself most of the next four months off. (Frankly, I found that working was highly overrated!) Of course, all good things must come to an end, so there I was in September with duty calling.

This time, I was off on a 14-day trip around the world (take that, Phileas Fogg), taking in Milan, Italy, and then Jeju, Korea. Frankly, it would have been preferable to go west rather than east, but, unfortunately, that wasn't an option. There was one good bit of news, however; I was seated in Business Class all the way.

Sound exotic? Want to trade places? Be careful what you wish for as you just might get it. Being wide awake in a hotel room from 2–6 am is no picnic, and neither is trying to stay awake and be productive mid-afternoon in a business meeting.

Now, for a trip like this, one must prepare in advance. In my case, I had a 6-day "practice" trip, going west, to Yokohama, Japan, 13 hours non-stop each way. I got back from that little jaunt six days before this new trip started. So just when I'd nearly recovered from that big time-change, I was trading one direction for another. So, sit back, relax and join me for a whirl around the world.

Preparing for the Trip

In the morning, I took care of some domestic chores, and got house guests Lis and Ivor breakfasted and off for a day of sightseeing in Washington DC. After lunch, I spent a few hours on business, and then casually tossed a few bits of clothing into my case along with my slippers, toothbrush, and razor.

At 4:30 pm, my cab arrived, complete with a driver from Kathmandu, Nepal. Like me, he'd recently gotten U.S. Citizenship. We chatted on the way to the airport. It was a glorious afternoon, and we had the windows down. Things were rather quiet at United's Business check-in counter. I was offered an upgrade to First Class for the first leg for a paltry $650! I politely declined. (As it turned out, the plane was a Boeing 767, and First Class was only marginally better than Business as it had only reclining seats rather than convertible beds.)

I moved through security rather quickly, and caught the shuttle to Terminal D. There, I settled into a comfortable leather seat in United's Red-Carpet Club, and sipped a tall cup of English Toffee coffee. Next to me sat a mother and daughter from Florida. They were traveling to St. Andrews, Scotland, where the daughter was about to start a 4-year university program.

The Flight Over the Pond!

At 6 pm, I headed to Gate 15, where boarding of premier passengers began just as I arrived, so I walked right on-board. I settled into center-aisle Seat 6C. The configuration across was 2-2-2. I had legroom to burn! Flight UA953 to Frankfurt, Germany, took off on time, at 6:53, and soon we were headed northeast. Warm nuts and drinks were served once we leveled off. I watched the movie "Deception," starring Ewan McGregor and Hugh Jackman. It was time well spent.

Dinner was served during the movie. First came some smoked salmon and salami slices with vegetable crudité and sun-dried tomato dressing. That was followed by a garden salad with a choice of two dressings. The main course was a selection from three choices: mustard thyme-scented chicken with warm horseradish potato salad; braised short rib of beef with red wine demi-glace, with potato pancakes and oven-roasted root vegetables; or Boursin lasagna, alfredo, and marinara sauce. I chose the beef.

For the busy executive on the go, for whom time really is money, an alternative offer was "Express Dine – a 3-course meal served all at once at the time of one's choosing, to allow one to maximize one's time," don't you know. And while I'm certainly "on the go," I wasn't that pressed for time.

Of course, nowadays, international business seats come complete with power outlet, but the last thing I want to do on a plane is work on my laptop computer. Dessert involved some vintage cheese, port wine or cognac, caramel tiramisu, and tea or coffee. I was so disciplined that I declined them all.

Two and a half hours into the flight, we'd passed over New York City, Boston, and Bangor, and were headed out over the North Atlantic from the north coast of Newfoundland, Canada. Flight details were as follows: ground speed 574 mph, altitude 36,000 feet, outside temperature -61 degrees F, 1376 miles behind us and 2737 more ahead, tail wind 44 mph. Total flight time was estimated to be 7:36 hours.

I changed my palmtop computer from Eastern Daylight Time (GMT-5) to Western Europe time (GMT+1). As a result, I went from 9:45 pm Friday to 3:45 am Saturday in an instant. (My, how time flies!)

[Next day] I laid my seat back all the way—which was considerable in Business Class—and started counting sheep. Fortunately, I fell asleep almost immediately. Unfortunately, I was awake again in less than two hours. Ah, the joys of flying east overnight! By then, we were due south of Keflavik, the airport that serves Iceland's capital, Reykjavik.

As we flew over Glasgow and Edinburgh, Scotland, breakfast was served. It consisted of a rather large plate of assorted fresh fruit, a croissant with orange marmalade, and yogurt. I washed that down with three cups of quite decent coffee, taking in enough caffeine to counter the distinct lack of sleep. From there, we flew just north of Amsterdam, and on into Germany, passed Cologne and down to Frankfurt am Main (FRA), arriving more than 30 minutes early.

A Short Layover in Frankfurt

By the time I got settled into the Lufthansa business lounge, my eyes were getting heavy, which was not surprising since my body clock registered 3:15 am! I stocked up on some emergency rations and read some European newspapers. I was informed by a lounge hostess to allow one hour to get from the lounge through security and to my gate. So, I followed her instructions, only to find it took me 15 minutes. Don't you hate when that happens! Along the way, I got another stamp in my new U.S. Passport, and had to go through a security checkpoint.

At my gate, B13, I saw no plane, nor, indeed, any place for a plane. Boarding was announced in German and then English. We went down a flight of stairs, out the terminal and onto several articulated buses. Then we drove at least a kilometer around the airport. I thought perhaps we were driving to Milan! Eventually, we came to a Lufthansa Boeing��737. Mobile stairs lead up to the front and rear doors. It was a 2-class service, and I was in Seat 3A, which was severely lacking in the legroom department. However, Business Class had few passengers, so I moved to a bulkhead row with more room.

Flight LH3954 to Milan's Linate city airport took off on-time at 10:55 am with safety announcements made in German, English, and Italian. At 55 minutes, it was a short flight, and I didn't expect much service. However, those of us up front got a full-service lunch. With Oktoberfest coming up soon, lunch was a Bavarian affair with various cold cuts, kraut, gherkin, potato salad, cheese and bread, plus a small dessert and a piece of chocolate. It was very impressive. The flight attendant said it was best eaten with beer. There's nothing quite like being sedentary for 12 hours while regularly eating and drinking!

Soon, we were over the Swiss Alps, which had a light dusting of the new season's snow. Then came some deep valleys with farms, large lakes (including Lake Lugarno) and occasional small cities. On approach to Milan, we passed over lots of farms, all neatly organized with lots of tree borders. Quite a few still had cereal crops waiting to be harvested.

Arrival in Milan

We landed right around noon in very nice weather. The vast majority of the planes on the ground belonged to the Italian state carrier Alitalia, which was very close to going bankrupt. A bus took us the short distance to the terminal, and our luggage arrived very soon after, a welcome benefit of using a smaller airport. A few days earlier, a series of strike actions occurred in the local transportation section, but, fortunately, my flight and airport were unaffected.

I picked up a city map from the information desk, checked out my transportation options and coaxed €100 from an ATM. (The exchange rate had become more favorable in recent weeks, but it still made things expensive.) I hopped in a cab and headed to my hotel downtown, some 5 km away. It was sunny with a light breeze, and people were out driving and shopping. I chatted with the driver who asked if I was in town for the big fashion show. Although he was serious, looking at my hiking trousers and boots, I thought that was pretty darn funny!

After €14 and 15 minutes, we arrived at the hotel Mediterraneo at Via L. Muratori, 14. It was a relatively new building. I checked in and the desk clerk said that if I waited 10 minutes, he'd have housekeeping prepare me a room with a larger bed on account of my height. So that was a good start. The room rate was €203 per night, which included breakfast, and wireless internet service was available for an extra charge. (Hey, what do you expect for $300/night?)

My room was on a corner of the 7^th floor and was well appointed. It came with a small refrigerator, work desk, comfortable chairs, French doors opening out over a yard, plenty of storage space, and a large bathroom complete with bidet and telephone on the wall by the toilet. From the windows, I looked out on roofs of classic orange terra cotta tiles. It all looked, well, so Mediterranean!

In the bathroom, I noticed a cord hanging down the wall by the bath, and thinking it activated the ceiling fan, I pulled it. As soon as I did, I noticed a small sign further up the wall, that said "alarme," and I knew I'd done something wrong. Sure enough, within seconds, the phone on the wall rang and the front desk was asking me (I suppose they were, as they spoke in Italian) if I'd had an accident in the bath. I politely informed them that everything was okay. (Considering how many accidents do occur in bathrooms, it seemed like a sensible idea; however, I'd never seen it before.)

By 1:30 pm, I was fading fast, and contrary to conventional wisdom, which says to stay awake on the day one arrives, I hopped into bed and was sound asleep in seconds. More than 3 hours later, my alarm politely informed me that it was time to get up. An easy thing to suggest, but it actually took me 30 minutes to get into a vertical position. While the sleep was good, the 30 minutes after one wakes up can make it seem like a bad idea.

I connected to the outside world, and, sure enough, email was waiting for me. One message was from a Japanese colleague, Toshiaki, who was just departing Tokyo's Narita airport, telling me he was on his way to Milan. Another from Hawaii told me that the U.S. Head of Delegation had been hospitalized and would not be coming to Milan this week. I hooked up my internet headset and made a few phone calls catching up with Astrid in Germany and Jenny back home. I had a selection of TV channels, most in Italian, but with several in German, one in French, and one in English, CNN International. There were also some music channels.

Around 7 pm, I ventured out. It was a quiet residential neighborhood with an occasional shop and restaurant. I found a large supermarket where I took my time looking in every aisle just to see the differences in products, packaging, and advertising. Between my basic knowledge of Spanish, German, and a bit of French, plus the pictures, I was able to figure out quite a bit. At the checkout, the woman was quite patient and helpful as I sorted through a large handful of Euro coins to make payment. On the way there and back, I looked at the menus of several restaurants.

Back in my room, I settled down to read and watch some TV while snacking on leftovers from my trip and cold drinks. Then I had a hot shower that was delivered via an extremely aggressive one-setting-fits-all massage shower head. That definitely left me feeling refreshed, if not bruised.

So, what was I doing in Milan? I was there to chair a 4-day plenary of committee ISO/IEC JTC 1/SC 22, or, more simply, SC 22. This committee oversees the so-called ISO standardization of computer programming languages such as COBOL, Fortran, Ada, C and C++. From 1999 until 2007, I attended these plenary meetings as a U.S. Delegate, being U.S. Head of Delegation for the past eight years. Last November, I took over as acting chair for one year, and, this coming November, I'll start a full 3-year term. As chair, I'm no longer part of a National Body delegation, so I have to be impartial. We meet once a year, typically in September. Last year, it was in Singapore; this year in Milan, Italy; and next year, in Delft, The Netherlands. We try to rotate between locations in Europe, the Americas and the Asia/Pacific region, depending on offers to host. It's my job to find new hosts.

By 10 pm, I was starting to fade, so I pulled the heavy drapes closed, put in my earplugs and set my alarm. As I turned out the light, the clock on the TV read 22:22; an omen, perhaps. I'm sure I was asleep before 22:23. The travel experience thus far was good; no lost luggage, no delayed flights, some decent food, good service and I met some nice people. After the constant exposure to Italian, I was getting into the mood, and my hands were moving around "eager to get talking." It had been more than 10 years since I was last in Italy (in Milan, in fact), but all those useful words and phrases started coming back to me. Things like "prego," "grazie," "buon giorno," "ciao," "arrivederci," "Mama Mia," and, my all-time favorite, "What's a da matter with you Luigi?"

[Next day] Some 5½ hours later, I was wide awake, so I got up and got an international news fix while eating some emergency rations of cheese and crackers with cold whole milk. Just the thing for a growing boy. As is usual, more emails had come in overnight, including a message from Toshi that he'd arrived safely and was ready to meet me at noon to play tourist. Another colleague told me he was several hours away in Padua, but would arrive later that same day. I did a few logic puzzles on my computer (where "few" can sometimes translate to "no more than 100") to get my little gray cells stimulated, and then worked on this diary.

Out and About!

I tried to sleep again, but no such luck. At 11:30 am, I left my hotel to walk the 20+ minutes to Toshi's hotel. It had been two years since we'd last met, at a conference in London. He had been up for some hours, and had already toured the main downtown area, which included the Duomo (cathedral). So, we walked to a large castle and gardens, preserved for several hundreds of years. The weather was wonderful, sunny with a light breeze. We walked and talked, then sat and talked some more. Then we strolled through a whole street of food and craft stalls stopping for a cone of delicious hazelnut ice cream.

By mid-afternoon, I was fading, so we walked back to our respective hotels. There, I took a 3-hour nap, but felt worse when I woke up. At 6 pm, I met Sally, the Secretariat of my committee, who lived and worked in the heart of New York City. We went in search of dinner, but found that most restaurants were not open for another hour. However, we found one that had set up an outdoor cooking area, so we sat outside and ate there. The food was passable.

Back in my room, I made a few phone calls and played a lot of games on my laptop while listening to some albums of music (Amy Winehouse, you rock). Lights out at 10:45 pm.

Meeting Day 1

I slept for five solid hours, but, at 4 am, was wide awake. I caught some international news while snacking. From then through 6:45, I tried sleeping again, but mostly just lay there. Day broke around 6:30. At 7:30, I was seated in the breakfast area, and Sally joined me.

At 8:30, we headed off to the local office of the Italian Standards Organization, UNI, a 15-minute walk away. Once again, the weather was pleasant. Many of the conference attendees were already there when we arrived. To allow delegates to find the meeting place, I delayed starting until 9:15. Six countries were represented; Denmark, Italy, Japan, Netherlands, UK, and US. Delegates from China and Germany were also registered, but failed to show. The group totaled about 20 people.

Mid-morning, we broke for coffee, tea, and juice, and then continued until 12:15 pm, when we broke for lunch until 2 o'clock. Having had a big breakfast, I stayed in over lunch working on a resolution I'd discussed with various delegates earlier that morning. Mid-afternoon, we had another break. This year's meeting agenda was somewhat slimmer than those of previous years, so we got through a lot of items. So much so, that it looked like we might finish a day early. We broke for the day at 4:45, and Sally and I walked back to our hotel stopping to buy some groceries along the way.

At 6 pm, I walked to McDonalds for a light supper while sitting in the glorious sunshine. Nearby, I bought a travel pouch from a street vendor as mine was wearing out from constant use. Back in my room I caught up with world news and email and worked on this diary. By 7:15, I was fading. Lights out at 8:30, asleep at 8:30:05!

Meeting Day 2

I slept soundly until 2 am, at which time, I snacked, watched some world news and handled some email. I also phoned home, as it was a convenient hour (8 pm, EDT). At 3:30 am, I went back to bed hoping to get more sleep, and, surprise, I slept until my alarm went off at 7:15. Soon after 7:30, I was eating breakfast. At 8:30, Sally and I headed out. It was quite fresh out and a bit colder than the day before. In any event, we got some vigorous heart exercise during the 15-minute walk. Automobile traffic was steady, but not too busy, especially as we didn't have to cross any major roads.

We had invited a guest from Geneva, Switzerland, to speak, and he arrived at the start of the day, so after a small amount of administrivia, we spent the morning with his presentation and resulting question and answer session. That was followed by a 2-hour lunch, and a short afternoon session. Members of the resolution drafting committee then met to refine the text of the resolutions we'd agreed to thus far.

To the onlooker, it might seem that we spend a lot of time on breaks, and long lunches and dinners, and we do. However, it has been my experience that a lot of important business gets done during such social settings. People run ideas by each other, and they get to know each other. And those who develop a personal relationship with each other are more inclined to behave more civilly towards each other when in conference mode.

I walked back to the hotel in the late afternoon, and the sunshine was very pleasant. I worked a bit while some classical music from Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" played in the background. It was altogether quite civilized.

Just before 6 pm, I walked to a hotel nearby where I met our invited guest. As we visited a number of restaurants in the area, we found none were open until 7, so we sat in a park and chatted. We'd met once before, when I was in Geneva earlier this year, but only briefly. After 7, we made the restaurant rounds again, and settled into a small place. More than 4 hours later, we had covered a lot of personal and business ground while managing to not eat or drink too much. I walked back to my hotel. Lights out around 12:30 am.

Meeting Day 3

After five hours of solid sleep, I was wide awake, although I did try for more. I was down at breakfast by 7:30 am, and off to my meeting. We'd made such good progress that we were a day and a half ahead of schedule, so I proposed, and the attendees agreed, that we'd finish at lunchtime that day. Those who could change their travel plans did so, while the rest of us planned to take a bit of time off and/or work from our hotel rooms.

The main business of the morning was to take the wording of the resolutions the drafting committee had produced, and to modify that wording to get the most consensus from the National Bodies present. While unanimity is preferred, the chair (me) determines if or when consensus has been reached. (For example, a 4-to-2 split would be considered consensus.)

I adjourned the plenary around noon, at which time a US delegate gave a short technical presentation to those who wished to stay. After that, the delegates said their goodbyes and departed. Three of the four Japanese delegates asked if I could join them for lunch, and I agreed. One of them was a long-time colleague; I met the other two for the first time at this meeting. We had a most enjoyable time. The €10 set menu was cheap and included two substantial dishes and non-alcoholic drinks.

I walked back to my hotel in glorious sunshine, but once I saw my bed, I remembered how short of sleep I was, so, at 3:15 pm, I lay down for a "quick" 3-hour nap. And when my alarm sounded at 6:15 pm, I set it for yet another half hour of sleep.

At 7 o'clock, Sally and I went to another hotel to meet some others for dinner. Friend and colleague John had brought his partner, Vicki, and they were having a vacation. We ate a variety of Italian dishes. Given the very low prices of the pizzas, I assumed they wouldn't be very big; however, when mine arrived, it hung over the sides of my very large plate. It was most enjoyable, but a struggle to complete. Over two hours, we covered a lot of topics not the least of which was the up-coming U.S. Presidential election. Back in my room, I handled some email and watched an Italian variety show with lots of singing, all in Italian. Lights out at 11 pm.

An Unexpected Free Day, Sort Of

I was awake at 5 am and got my world news fix, which, mostly involved the meltdown of the U.S. financial system. Senator McCain had suspended his campaign and wanted the first debate postponed, and had urged Senator Obama to do likewise. Given McCain's weakened position of late and his less-than-stellar ability at public speaking, my initial reaction was that his was a diversionary tactic to try and make him look more presidential without having to debate. As such, I was very happy when Obama responded that he was not inclined to postpone the debate. After all, a president would have to handle multiple non-trivial events at the same time, so why not deal with the financial crisis and have the public debate?

I worked a while on this diary, and then planned the day's business activities. With an unexpected free day, I would be able to take care of most, if not all, of the action items I'd taken on as a result of the plenary. I had a leisurely breakfast, sipping hot tea with honey while working on an especially difficult Sudoku puzzle.

Back in my room, I settled into work until about 11 o'clock, when a petite chambermaid came to clean my room. She was ever so sorry to interrupt me, but after a series of "pregos," "grazies," and smiles, we agreed that she could come in and clean and make-up my bed. While she cleaned, I pulled on my boots and went for a short walk in the sunshine to pick up emergency rations at the supermarket. I took care of all the major food groups: whole milk (latte intero), apricot juice (albicocca), salted peanuts (arachidi con sale), and chocolate with hazelnuts (cioccolato al latte con nocciole).

I worked until 2 pm, snacking along the way. Then I darkened the room and lay on the bed without setting the alarm, to give me a chance to well and truly catch up on sleep. For the next four and a half hours I drifted in and out of slumber, and when I awoke for good at 6:30, I felt the worst I'd been all week. So much for catching up! What's more, I'd caught a cold from the draft coming in my open window. Don't you just hate that when that happens!

Well, the best cure for tiredness is disciplined hard work, which I did for nearly six more hours, stopping for the occasional snack break and TV news fix along the way. At 12:15 am, I sent my last email, spoke to Jenny back home, and turned out the lights.

A Very Long Travel Day Begins

I was awake at 4 am, which excited me not at all. I soon got back to sleep but was awake again at 6. And despite further efforts to stay in bed, I was up, showered and down for breakfast at 7 o'clock. Although the food selection was very good, and the staff friendly, after six days, it was getting rather repetitive. And to complicate matters, I was stuck on more than a few clues in a crossword puzzle. Don't you just hate that when that happens!

Back in my room, I packed my bag, reorganized my computer bag, wrote in this diary, and did a bit more work. It was to be a big Travel Day: taxi to the Milan airport, plane back north to Frankfurt, plane west to Seoul, bus to the domestic airport, plane to a resort island, and, finally, bus to the resort hotel, with a change of day tossed in for good measure and some eight time zones to cross, a number of meals in flight and snacks in airline lounges. Is that something to look forward to, or what? (Still want to change places with me?)

I took care of some last-minute business email—the sun never sets on Microsoft—browsed some business news websites, and put on my long-distance traveling clothes, which looked remarkably similar to those I wear on short trips. There were my L.L. Bean hiking pants with zip-off legs, heavy socks and separate sock liners, loose-fitting shirt and jacket, and my trusty hiking boots, which were showing signs of serious wear.

At 10:15 am, I was at the front desk checking out. I pretended to faint at the size of the bill, but it was as expected; no nasty surprises or fines for pulling the emergency cord on the first day. Within minutes, my taxi appeared, and I was on my way to Linate airport. The sun had finally appeared. The driver spoke quite some English, so we chatted during the 15-minute drive down tree-lined streets. The fare cost €15, and I gave him my loose change as a tip. He protested, but took it anyway, and said that he should pay me for the English lesson.

I had arrived rather early for my flight, and planned to sit in the business lounge. However, the lounge was through security, but the check-in desks were closed until 11 am. So, I chatted with a young American woman who was also waiting. She'd tripped and broken her ankle some three weeks before just as she was about to leave. The doctor put a cast on her leg and prohibited her from flying for several weeks, so she had an unexpected extra-long stay.

The 11 am-time came and went, and around 11:15, a couple of Lufthansa staff ambled in, chatted with each other for a while, and, eventually, decided to deal with the long line of passengers, but only on their own terms. After all, this was Italy! "Are you in a hurry? Well, that's your problem." "You got a problem? I don't want to hear about it."

Although I was flying beyond Seoul, I made sure my bags would be unloaded there, so I could hand-carry them to the domestic terminal, especially as I wanted to catch an earlier flight, if possible. Security was very lame. Twice I walked through the detector, and twice it beeped. The security guard simply shrugged his shoulders and waved me through.

Yes, there was a business lounge, but one run by a contractor for a number of airlines. It was comfortable, but had only the basics on offer. I passed the time reading several European newspapers. I made a cup of tea, but, unfortunately, the temperature of the so-called hot water was about that of gnat's urine, which, as everybody knows, is certainly nowhere near boiling (fortunately for the gnat).

At 12:25 pm, I went off to Gate A4, a short walk away. Our bus arrived, and, after a few minutes, we went up the stairs of a Lufthansa Boeing 737. Once again, I had been assigned Seat 3A, but as Business Class was almost empty, I moved to 1A for the extra legroom and better view out the window in front of the wing.

Flight LH3955 took off, on time, for the 1-hour trip north to Frankfurt. Soon after, we were over the Swiss Alps and then Germany. Once again, a very nice lunch was served, complete with chocolate mousse in chocolate syrup and, yes, with two pieces of chocolate on the side. That took care of three of the major food groups.

Another Layover in Frankfurt

On the ground, we were bused to a terminal, which was, of course, nowhere near the terminal I needed next. On the way, I saw planes from Morocco, Iran, Portugal, Cyprus, Australia, the U.S., Germany, Lebanon, Singapore, South Korea, Kuwait, Canada, Thailand, Japan, Turkey, Denmark, Croatia, Italy, China, Israel, Tunisia, Poland, Brazil, and Qatar. And I saw another half dozen planes whose tail insignia I couldn't identify. In the terminal, the main flight board showed 100 different flights departing in the next three and a half hours. FRA certainly is an international hub, not to mention a small city.

As I had three hours to kill before boarding my next flight, I took my time getting to Terminal C. Then it was through passport control and security. Once again, the alarm went off, and, this time, my U.S. Passport was found to be the culprit.

I located the Lufthansa Business Lounge, right next to my gate, and was welcomed outside the entrance by a smiling hostess, who immediately noticed my Prussian bearing. She checked my documents and noticed I was a Star Alliance Gold member. As a result, she invited me to the First-Class lounge next door. Well, that hadn't been my plan, but I relented just that once. And guess what, I was the best-dressed hiker in the whole lounge, fresh from Milan with the latest in grunge fashion!

Not having eaten or drank for at least 45 minutes, I made the rounds of the kitchen area. (After all, it would be a shame to be in the First-Class lounge and not take advantage of it.) The hausgemacht (home-made) turkey soup looked so inviting I just had to try it. And after I loosened my belt another notch, I sipped several cups of milchkaffee. On offer were complementary wines from Austria, Italy, Germany, France, and South Africa. (Meanwhile, those poor people in the Business Class lounge had to make do with only three choices. "Let them eat cake, I say!")

The lounge windows were well insulated, so while I had a bird's eye view of the traffic on one busy runway, it was like watching a silent movie. And my fellow lounge mates were subdued, probably because, like me, they were in transit waiting for the next long haul. An interesting oddity was that all the external gates were carrying advertising for the Royal Bank of Scotland, one of Europe's largest banking conglomerates. It just didn't look right for a German airport, but, I guess, that's globalization in action.

While I was working on this diary, I overheard two people talking in a familiar accent. I asked them if there was an Aussie reunion in the lounge. The man was with Siemens pharmaceuticals ordinarily based in Australia, but currently living in Shanghai, China. He was on his way back there. The woman was also in the medical science field, working for a Boston-based company while working on an MBA degree. She lived less than 10 miles from me in Northern Virginia. She'd been installing an instrument near Munich, and was on her way home to Washington DC. We exchanged travel stories over drinks until their flights were called. By then, I was 30 minutes away from boarding myself, but when I checked the monitor, my flight had been delayed 30 minutes. Apparently, our plane was late arriving. Don't you just hate that when that happens!

At 5:40 pm, our flight was called, and I went down the stairs to find, yes, another bus waiting. We took the scenic tour of the airport, finally pulling up alongside a behemoth 4-engine Airbus A340-600. After some time, an agent came on the bus to tell us that the plane was still being cleaned, and we'd have to wait on the bus 15 minutes. We waited for that and more, and then two large busloads of passengers leaped out like sheep released from a pen, and raced to two narrow mobile staircases. No priority boarding there today; it was every man for himself. Once we were seated, the pilot said the good news was we were all ready to go. The bad news was we'd lost our air traffic control slot and would have to wait another 15 minutes. I saw a pattern developing.

Stay tuned for the second half of the trip, to, in, and home from South Korea!

© 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.

From time to time during my travels, I come across signs that I find interesting for one reason or another. Sometimes, they contain clever writing, are humorous, or remind me of some place or event. Here are some, mostly from a trip to Australia.