novoarte's blog

Cartagena Loves Coffee, Ergo Julie Loves Cartagena

novoarte — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 15:18:36 -0500

There's a lot to like about Cartagena.

It looks so much like Habana Vieja and Viejo San Juan, two places that are special to me, with its colonial balconies, its colorful houses, its heavy cedar doors concealing Spanish style patios like a secret garden behind a locked gate.

The streets are alive...

Listen to the Radio

novoarte — Tue, 8 Jul 2008 18:36:06 -0500

I have a crazy, crazy affection for love songs in Spanish.

Like country ballads, love songs in Spanish are often bad, and for all the same reasons: the lyrics teeter on the line between the bad-luck-streak-believable and the totally hyperbolic. The barely contained emotion tremors in the overwrought...

Morning Coffee

novoarte — Fri, 4 Jul 2008 02:24:59 -0500

I'm sleeping when the phone rings at 11, Francisco's gentle voice shaking me awake. "Buenos dias, mi amor," he says. "Grr. Argh. Huh?" I reply in a spectacularly inarticulate exchange that ends with the agreement that we'll catch up after my first cup of coffee. I putter my way to the kitchen and...

La Flaneur

novoarte — Wed, 2 Jul 2008 02:52:00 -0500

Last week, I was browsing in my favorite Mexico City bookstore when I came across the intriguingly titled "Instrucciones para vivir en Mexico"-- "Instructions for living in Mexico."

Written by the late journalist Jorge Ibarguengoitia, this book isn't a how-to--at least not in the conventional sense--but...

Como cuchillo en mantequilla

novoarte — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 21:11:32 -0500

I'm somewhat ashamed to say it, but I love the toreo.

If I could, I'd be at Plaza Mexico every Sunday, sitting on the level that's squarely between the ringside ricos and the nosebleed sections, tense with excitement as the orchestra strikes the first notes and the hand on the stadium clock...

The Road to Guantanamo...

novoarte — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 22:57:47 -0500

...is long and filled with red tape. And the end is never quite in sight.

Back in February, it occurred to me that I could apply for a press pass to visit the US prison and military base in Guantanamo, Cuba.

Though I wasn't under the illusion that I'd see or learn anything more than journalists...

So this Albanian, this Cuban, and this American step into a bar... I mean, a car...

novoarte — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 02:48:08 -0500

I'm standing in the middle of the street, desperate to hail a taxi and get to the airport before rush hour starts with its first wave of outbound city traffic. An obliging cabbie's pulled over, blocking a full lane of traffic, but as I'm putting my bag in the back seat, Francisco says, "Forget...

Cuidado, Posible Peligro*

novoarte — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 23:08:38 -0500

*Careful, Possible Danger

I'll be heading down to Colombia soon and the mere mention of my travel plans to anyone has consistently provoked the concerned and almost automatic response, "Be careful down there." If I had five bucks for every time someone has expressed worry about the dangers...

Up on the Roof

novoarte — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 19:40:10 -0500

"Let's go up to the roof," Francisco said.

I could think of a hundred reasons why I shouldn't-- Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were beautiful days of perfectly blue skies and low humidity after two punishing days of 100^ temperatures, so I'd been playing more than writing and the work had piled...

Eat It to Save It

novoarte — Sat, 7 Jun 2008 22:39:30 -0500

The sun is low in the dusky Louisiana sky when we arrive at the home of Poppy and Nicky Tooker, the doyenne and don, respectively, of New Orleans cooking. We're here for a good ole fashioned crawfish boil. No sooner are week-old pages of The Times Picayune spread out in a double layer across...

Disaster Zone

novoarte — Wed, 4 Jun 2008 11:30:01 -0500

Francisco and I arrived in New Orleans a week ago, the plan being to get to know the city a bit before he started volunteering with Culinary Corps and before I began writing about the Corps' work. The Culinary Corps is a group of professional chefs who volunteer their skills to participate in community...

Destruction?! What Destruction?

novoarte — Fri, 30 May 2008 10:47:31 -0500

Walking on the streets of New Orleans, it's easy enough to believe that everything is normal.

You wouldn't know that a hurricane with the innocuous sounding name of Katrina caused a massive lake named Pontchartrain to swell until it strained levees to the breaking point not even three years ago,...

Nothing could be finer...

novoarte — Mon, 26 May 2008 13:47:48 -0500

"Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina/in the morning..." from "Carolina in the Morning" -Gus Kahn & Walter Donaldson

As I write this, I'm sitting on my mother's screened in porch, reclining on a day bed. The breeze is rustling the leaves on the river birch tree and the temperature is...

Hard Times

novoarte — Wed, 21 May 2008 14:52:18 -0500

"hard times, hard times/come again no more."-eastmountainsouth

"I was in Spain and I was enjoying a delicious wine--how...

Technicolor Cuba

novoarte — Sun, 18 May 2008 22:17:47 -0500

Anyone I’ve ever known who’s gone to Cuba says that there’s something indescribable about the way you feel when you’re there. It's true, and there's not much more I can say about that; it really is beyond words.

But there's also something about the way you feel when you’re leaving...

Ni hao, companera

novoarte — Sat, 17 May 2008 15:10:09 -0500

Papa Tao crooked a finger at the waitress and barked, "Boligrafo!" He made a rough sketch--very rough--of the path to Casino Chung Wah and accompanied its production with overly complicated verbal directions. After four visits to Chung Wah--closed each time--I am finally able to speak with...

Mariel

novoarte — Thu, 15 May 2008 20:56:08 -0500

For Brayan

In my mother-in-law's version of the tale, Francisco came home the Friday before Mother's Day in 1980 and announced he was leaving: His girlfriend. His son. His mother and his sister. His country. They were the wake he left behind as The Green Girl pulled out of Mariel's harbor. His...

Are You Connected?

novoarte — Tue, 13 May 2008 10:06:22 -0500

Once a day, Brayan and I stop by Hotel Parque Central, one of the few places with wireless internet access in Havana. “Are you connected?” one man asked today as I twiddled my thumbs waiting for my inbox to open. “I’ve never been more connected,” I answered, and though we spoke to each other...

Felicidades, Mama

novoarte — Mon, 12 May 2008 10:02:54 -0500

The signs of the upcoming Mother’s Day celebration began last Tuesday. Men walked down the street with red and white checkered boxes adorned with Felicidades, Mama written in curlicued script, cakes carefully tucked inside, the pink icing trickling away in slow rivulets in the heat. Sidewalk vendors...

Cojimar

novoarte — Sat, 10 May 2008 13:57:03 -0500

We hitched a ride out of Central Havana to the seaside town made famous by Ernest Hemingway to research a couple of articles I’m working on. The driver barreled up a dusty road speckled with potholes, noting, “This is the best road in town,” and dropped us off on a forlorn corner, pointing...

Malcriada

novoarte — Thu, 8 May 2008 15:36:31 -0500

My 14 year old niece and I don’t have the best relationship. Even since the first time we met, we’ve circled each other with instinctive caution. For me, she’s a malcriada: her mom and grandmother let her get away with everything. She’s a picky eater, so they let her eat cake for dinner. She...

Making Meatballs in the Dark

novoarte — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 15:59:29 -0500

I love to cook. I just don’t normally do it. But with Francisco in New York, I’m left to fend for myself. Alone, my schedule and routine have become bizarre. I eat corn flakes at 4 AM while watching “Love in the Time of Cholera.” I make black beans and rice and eat the leftovers for lunch and...

A Sensible Death

novoarte — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 18:06:38 -0500

I've been working on a couple of articles about local lingo this week, which got me thinking about cultures and customs. The popular narrative is that local traditions are eroding beneath the weight of globalization (which is not untrue), but as Eva wrote in a recent

Shook Me All Night Long

novoarte — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 02:46:05 -0500

I was in the middle of a dream, napping, when the rattling upstairs finally worked its way into my consciousness and startled me awake this evening. The man who lives in 203 is elderly, doesn't like noise. I know because he once rapped on our door at 10 pm and asked us to please...

Viva Mexico

novoarte — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 03:42:13 -0500

Mexico City is always a happening place, but today took the cake for sure.

This morning, Avenida Reforma was the stage for back-to-back celebrations: the first, a presentation of the British polo team, in town for the 8th International Polo Championship, and the second, a parade complete with floats...

In Like...Flynn?

novoarte — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 23:30:09 -0500

Day three at immigration. I've become a regular. The lady at the information desk smiles in recognition when she sees me. The gap-toothed man near the door waves, saying, "I remember you!" Even the cool reserve and flat affect of Mr. Marcelo over at window A2 have melted considerably....

Economics 101

novoarte — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 13:59:36 -0500

I caught a cab on Avenida Reforma this morning and immediately fell into a conversation about world economics with the taxista. We got onto the subject because yet another protest was making its way down the avenue, blocking our way. "Nuestra ciudad de protesta," the taxista said-- "Our city of...

LOL

novoarte — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 10:52:14 -0500

Many of us who have been following "The Khonstamm Affair" this week (I, for one, lost most of Wednesday keeping up with it) have largely reduced Khonstamm and the hullabaloo into a few digestible bites, packaged and sold as follow:

Option A:...

Pathetic Peripatetic

novoarte — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 23:21:57 -0500

Don't get me wrong: there's no place I'd rather have my permanent address than New York City. Everything I love and that frustrates me about the world is packed into this one dense finger of land jutting into the ocean. As I write, Chicano music thumps my floor and the neighbor...

I said "tomato," he said ...

novoarte — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 00:24:15 -0500

Back in February, David DeFranza had a great article, "8 Free Online Resources for Learning a New Language," published by Brave New Traveler. As someone who always has "learning a new language" on my to-do list, I visited a few of...