See what's in store.

I went to the grocery store the other day, and was reminded of the different foods people can find in stores in different regions of the United States. Here in Texas, you’ll find an amazing assortment of tortillas made fresh in the store every day, which you would not find in Concord, New Hampshire. In New England you may find Fluff, the nor’easter marshmallow cream of choice, but you will not find that in the south. You can find marshmallow cream, but it won’t be Fluff.

My family moved from Iowa to Wyoming when I was 13. In Iowa, I was a big fan of Hostess Ho Hos, a chocolate snack cake with whipped cream swirled in the middle (see here). But in Wyoming, there were no Ho Hos. What?! I was astounded -- so astounded in fact that I approached a Hostess delivery man I saw at the neighborhood Mini-Mart one day. “Hello kind sir, I was wondering if you could tell me as to why there are no Ho Hos here in the fine state of Wyoming.” He informed me that in the Rocky Mountain region, they sold Chocodiles in place of the Ho Ho. In case you are unaware, Chocodiles are (or were) basically a chocolate-covered Twinkie (if you are from and in another country reading this, I’m sorry because you undoubtedly have no idea what the heck I’m talking about, but check out this explanation for Chocodiles). Let’s just say that Chocodiles never made it onto my regular junk food menu.

Here I am, back in Iowa a few years ago. Our dear family
friends, Sharon and Don, remembered how crazy I was
for Ho Hos and kindly bought me a box (I think Don wanted
to take them back, that's how yummy they are!).

When you travel to another country, it is interesting to experience a local grocery store, supermarket, market, food store, whatever you want to call it to see just how many different packaged foods are out there. Those of you from the U.S. are surely aware of a rather recent surge of “drinkable” yogurt on the market, mostly geared towards kids. Mexico, and I’m sure many other countries, have been selling it for years, and not as a childhood novelty snack packaged with cartoon characters in neon colors. When I spent time in Guanajuato, Mexico over a decade ago, the little supermarket I went to had shelves and shelves of different types of drinkable yogurt, all different flavors, many of fruits we do not typically find in the U.S. I had it every day, at least once. It was something I missed when coming back to the U.S.  All I could find at home at the time was Kefir, and comparatively, it wasn’t that cheap. It was good, but just not the same.

Something else I enjoy when traveling in Central America is the soda/pop/soft drink called Fresca. It is a grapefruit flavored soda and is so amazingly refreshing on a hot day in the tropics. But the Fresca here in the U.S. is, and always has been, diet. Ummm ... yuck. I did, however, discover a store here in Austin that sells the south-of-the-border version of Fresca, so that was tasty news. I won’t make a habit of drinking this sugar-laden beverage too frequently --- just once in a while during the hot summer. 

You may find a need for a grocery store while traveling abroad, and not just as your own personal field trip to investigate differences. You may need food! This can be very fun, even when you can’t read the labels printed in another language. You look at the label and try to decipher what is inside the carton/box/container/can/bottle and determine if it is something you want for your six-hour bus trip the next day, or your hike to a waterfall, or your late night snack. You might buy something that looks like a dried fruit roll-up, but ends up being some sort of dehydrated meat pancake. Or you think you’re buying a sweet cookie to have with a nice cup of tea, but it ends up being a salty cracker that would go better with a beer. Or you assume that the bag of chips you bought is some kind of local potato chips, but ends up being dried, salted bugs. 

See what adventures you could experience just by going to a grocery store? Who knew?

Please use the comment section below to share any “weird snack” experiences you have had visiting other places in the U.S. or other countries. 

Eat outside your comfort zone.

What is the point of traveling, especially to different countries? To simply see a few famous sites, take a photo, and then go eat dinner at McDonald’s or Applebee's? Although I’m sure that is true for some people, my answer is a loud and resounding:  No! I love to travel for many different reasons, too many to list and some I probably cannot even explain. But most of all, I love to meet different people, see different things and unfamiliar places, and experience the norm of local everyday life in a way that is not normal for me. And this includes eating.

In the United States, every town, city, suburban area, and state has basically the same chain restaurants, and many of these restaurants can be found overseas:  McDonald's, Taco Bell, Wendy’s, Burger King, Kentucky Fried Chicken, TGI Friday’s, Applebee’s. The list goes on and on. I, however, prefer eating in independently and locally owned restaurants, wherever I am. Locally owned restaurants, diners, cafes, cafeterias, fast food eateries, and food trucks have better food in my experience, often times locally grown, and the profits go directly back into the community. I’m not against the above named national restaurant chains or any of the big chains. They do employ local people and some of them aren’t all that bad. And when you don’t have many choices (or even if you do), it’s where you go for lunch with coworkers or dinner with friends. But I do prefer the more unique and interesting local businesses where they are available.

Along with my efforts to frequent local businesses at home, when I’m traveling I do the same, only probably more so. If you are visiting another country, witnessing the uniqueness of another culture, there is no better way to experience a new place than through food ... local food, the food that those who live there eat every day.

During my first trip to Latin America, I was with a group of people helping to build a house near the southern Pacific coast of Costa Rica, and we were not there long. Maybe a little over a week. I was enjoying the local food, especially the rice and beans. But when we left the coast and were back in the city of San Jose for our flight home the next day, everyone made a beeline for Pizza Hut for dinner. Seriously? A few days in another country and everyone felt the need to connect with the homeland through mediocre (at best) pizza from the states? I broke off from the group and found a bakery and some local eats. Costa Rican food. Because we were still in Costa Rica. 

This just seems obvious to me ... eating local. I can understand if you are traveling abroad for a few weeks or months and you get a craving for something familiar. Maybe you think some fast food from home would really hit the spot. I get it. I’ve been there. And I’m not suggesting you only eat regional food. If you want pizza, then eat pizza from a local restaurant, rather than Pizza Hut. If you want a cheeseburger, then eat it from a local fast food restaurant rather than Burger King. I've had awesome Indian food in Guatemala, great Italian food in Puerto Rico, and delicious Greek pizza in Panama. Just because something isn’t native to where you are visiting, doesn’t mean you can’t find an interesting variation of it. But you won’t know unless you step out of your comfort zone.

Here are my friends (Sarah, Hanna and Anna) at a local Guatemalan fast food chain after we ate really 

yummy ice cream cones. There were no tourists in there except us. It was still cheap and
unhealthy food. But it wasn't McDonald's!  

Before you take that trip abroad, to a new country with new customs, languages, and foods, try to leave your usual eating habits behind. When you see a restaurant that looks familiar, or that you would see in your country, just walk on by. One of the grandest ways to experience a new culture is through your taste buds. And you’re not going to have that experience if you keep falling back on what is familiar to you. Change those french fries or baked potato for a tamal or an arepa. Exchange that Big Mac for a local dish at a little cafe on the town square. Give up what you usually eat so you can have a truly fun and interesting travel experience. Because if you can’t even do that, then what is the point of traveling? If you can’t give up the chain food, you might as well just stay home and call the pizza delivery guy. 

Use your network.

One of my friends is getting ready to go on her first trip abroad. Nickie and her boyfriend are taking a Mediterranean cruise and will spend some time in Rome and other cities in Italy, Greece and Turkey. Knowing this, and knowing that another friend of mine, Michelle, had spent several days in Rome last fall, I asked her to provide some travel tips for Nickie. So she shared the name of an incredible tour guide in Rome, a good way to plan ahead for a visit to the Vatican, and some advice on what to do for food (you can’t really go wrong in Italy when it comes to food, which is no big surprise). Then I emailed my friend Pep about his trip with his family to Greece last summer and if he had any tips. Sure enough, he did. Even though Nickie won’t be spending as much time there, she now has a better idea of what might be possible in their limited time.

And that is the point of today’s blog post: networking. Everyone is crazy for networking these days. Social networking. Networking for work. Networking events. Networking whatever. But it is useful for planning your travels as well. Let your friends, family, coworkers, acquaintances, and distant relatives know you are taking a trip and see if they have been there, or if they know anyone who has.* This can help you make plans on what to see, what to skip, where to go, how to get there, and may even connect you with someone local who will make your trip even more interesting and special.

(The most memorable time this happened to me was in Mexico and I discussed it in this blog post.)

Sometimes there is no connection, and that’s okay. That doesn’t mean the trip won’t still be amazing or that you won’t find remarkable things on your own. If you’ve been following this blog, you know I’m all for solo travel and blazing your own trail (see posts here and here). But perchance you do make a connection before your trip, it could be really helpful and/or add something special to your trip that you may not have known about otherwise. So ask those seasoned travelers in your own personal network. You never know who or what they know. Or who or what the people they know know. Ya know?  Networking can sometimes lead to some awesome places.

* Side note: I'm sure you know this, but it bears repeating. When using Facebook to seek such advice, please do not post on your wall that you will be out of town or when you will be out of town. Keep it simple, e.g. “Hey, has anyone been to Athens?” Not, “Hey, we’re going to Athens for two weeks starting July 1 and we need some advice.” Response: “Hey hospitable home robbery victims, thanks for the heads up. We really like your TV, sound system, laptops and jewelry collection. Hope you had fun in Greece!” Networking can sometimes lead to some not-so-awesome places. Just beware. 

Take in your surroundings.

No matter where you travel, there is something different, amazing, and beautiful to see. Today I am sharing some more photos with you to make my point ... the point being: take it all in. And take some photos while you’re at it. I know some of you do not feel the need to have thousands of photos on your computer (or in my case, on my computer and in a huge rubber bin in storage). And I understand that. But I cannot abide by it. I love taking photos and I love looking at them when I return. This has been true since I was a little kid. So even if you don’t carry a camera when you travel, take a photo with your mind. Hopefully you will be able to preserve some great scenes like these:

One of the two volcanoes on the island of Ometepe in Lake Nicaragua in Nicaragua. 

The shore of Isla Ometepe.

A coffee cooperative on Isla Ometepe.

If you are too tired to refer to Wikipedia to find out more about Isla Ometepe right now (or ever), I will tell you a little bit about it. It is the largest volcanic island in a fresh water lake in all the world (and Lake Nicaragua -- also known as Lago Cocibolca, and a few additional names I will not list here -- is the largest lake in Central America). When I was there, there were almost entirely dirt roads and my guide took me around in a very necessary four-wheel-drive vehicle. Some cool things you can find on Isla Ometepe are howler monkeys, petroglyphs, and lovely people. And also peace and quiet. Unless a howler monkey is ... you know .... howling (although it sounds more like growling to me. Or roaring.) And also many things that make beautiful photographs for a frame, or simply your frame of mind. 

Open your heart.

It is almost Valentine’s Day and romance is in the air. Okay, maybe for some, blatant commercialism and feelings of obligated romance are in the air. Whatever the case, no matter what time of year, most people like a good love story, at least once in a while. Sometimes even a tragic love story.

In Xela, Guatemala, there is a local legend about a young gypsy girl named Vanushca Cárdenas who fell madly in love with a local boy from a rich family. Upon learning of their relationship and plans to marry, the parents of the rich boy forbade him to see her. They even sent him away to study in Spain. Vanushca was left behind, alone and broken hearted. She eventually died from that broken heart at a mere 17 years of age and was buried at El Calvario cemetery in Xela.

There are various stories as to how this all came to be and what happened to her beloved. I have heard that he returned shortly after Vanushca died, discovering that the love of his life was gone. And suffering from the same affliction as his sweetheart, he died right there at her grave, not able to live without her. I have also heard that he threw himself off the ship going to Spain, or that he perished in the war in Spain, and his death was the reason Vanushca died of a broken heart. I am inclined to believe that if anything, he died in Spain because Vanushca’s tomb reads, “The remains of the man I loved in life lie in Mother Spain.”

Vanushca’s gravesite is a popular place for visitors. Those who wish for luck in love come to pay tribute. So my friend Anna and I decided we would go and pay our respects. Why not? It couldn’t hurt. 

One day we met at the entrance gate to El Calvario and bought some flowers from a nearby vendor. We went to Vanushca’s gravesite and saw that many were asking her for advice and guidance; people had written requests for help right on the grave. There were flowers, some fresh and some dried from time, on the tomb. We just left flowers and took some time to read the wishes of anonymous souls looking for a little help. 

"Dear Vanushca, I have had bad luck in love all my life. Please
help me obtain good luck in love now and in the future.
What would life be without love ... "

When traveling, I love to learn about regional stories, tales, and folklore. They bring color to the local life, and sometimes even give hope to both locals and visitors. If you learn of such a story, as I did, find a way to make the story more personal. Participate and leave those proverbial flowers.

The story of Vanushca is tragic, like Xela’s own Romeo and Juliet. Vanushca died of a broken heart, so I’m not exactly sure why she would be the best person to ask for help with romantic problems. I don’t think she handled the experience very well quite frankly. Plus, she was helpless to do anything when her man was sent away. So she died. Instead of eating mass quantities of ice cream to drown the pain, she just died. Not a recommended outcome. Maybe the legend is based on the assumption that since she had suffered such a loss, she would know how to help keep others from the same fate. Maybe her broken heart in life enables her to help others in death. Maybe she didn't have access to decent ice cream back then. I don’t know. But it is quite a story nonetheless.

I cannot speak about any great revelation or happening due to my visit to the gravesite of Vanushca Cárdenas. But Anna, shortly after her return to the U.S., started dating the man who recently became her husband. Coincidence? Perhaps. Or perhaps just believing in the possibility helps make it a reality. Taking part in a local legend was fun and interesting. And if it helped Anna find true love, then all the better. You just never know. When traveling, you never know what great stories will become a part of your own great story.

P.S.  After doing some research on-line, I found out that Vanushca’s tomb, featured in the photos above, is different now. They replaced it with a new, more elaborate tomb, but it is still a place where people go to leave flowers, write requests, and pay their respects to Vanushca. You can find a photo and an article about it here.  

Think outside the tortilla.

I just bought a loaf of Bauernbrot German rye bread from the grocery store bakery and I have to say that it is awesome. I love rye bread, light or dark or pumpernickel (hello German ancestry). I actually love any type of bread, especially when it’s freshly made. As a sandwich, toast, or simply spread with some butter, it doesn’t really matter to me. I like it all.

So when traveling to Latin America, you would think that I might go through withdrawal from all that bread we eat up here, north of the border. But I don’t. In many of the countries I’ve been to in Central America, tortillas are the carbohydrate of choice. And I love them. I don’t recall ever having a flour tortilla outside the U.S. ... that is not to say that they don’t exist elsewhere. I just haven’t been to a place where they are customary. Where I have been in Central America, the corn tortilla rules. And I dutifully bow at its feet. Sometimes the tortilla comes in slightly different forms in different countries, but corn is the main ingredient. The majority of those that I have eaten were made fresh that day, with someone’s caring hands that took the corn “dough” and pat-pat-patted the ball into a perfectly thin, round disk that was cooked over a wood fire. I can smell them now. I had a tortilla-making lesson in Guatemala at the school where I worked --- it is definitely not as easy as I thought it would be. Mine was a little more like a frisbee than a tortilla. But it was still good.

The popularity of tortillas in Central America does not mean one cannot find great bread there. While spending some time in Costa Rica, I ate bread every morning for breakfast. The host family I stayed with made the typical gallo pinto (black beans and rice mixed together) every morning for breakfast, which I happily ate and liked. But I also had bread and butter sprinkled with sugar. I’m not sure if the family typically ate bread every day, but the butter and sugar was all Dutch. My friend Sietske from the Netherlands (you previously read about her here), who was a border at the house and became my good friend, was surely the one who started that. The bread came from a local bakery and someone in the family walked the short distance every morning to go pick some up. We got thick slices, doctored them up Euro-style, and enjoyed them with some awesomely strong and rich coffee.

When traveling in Mexico with my friend Monica, we were preparing for our long bus ride back to Mexico City (you can read a bit about the bus ride to Oaxaca here). We knew we had to bring some food along since our bus ride would be long again. We decided to get some bread at a local bakery. We bought some nice looking bread and then also got some quesillo at the market, which is a very popular cheese in the Oaxaca region. Quesillo is basically awesome, unprocessed string cheese (see more about it here). In the local cheese enchiladas (hello again my wonderful corn tortillas), the quesillo was almost like shredded chicken. I don’t eat chicken and haven’t for years, but the quesillo was fantastic. So we got a ball of quesillo also. When we got hungry on the bus, we used every traveler’s friend, the Swiss Army Knife, cut some bread and made quesillo cheese sandwiches. Perfect travel food. 

On your travels to Latin America, embrace the tortilla when it is the carb of choice. It is delicious in so many ways in so many different recipes. But know that if you get a hankering for bread, you are good to go. Bread is still popular south of the border. You just have to find the right way to eat it. 

Horse around.

My mom grew up on an Iowa farm with a pinto horse named Beauty. She got that horse when she was about nine years old and spent a lot of time after school riding her. After visiting a friend or going for a long ride, my mom could fall asleep on the horse’s back and Beauty would just take her on home. There was a saddle, but she rode mostly bareback, grabbing the mane with her strong arm and somehow hoisting her petite frame onto the horse.

Beauty was still around when I was a kid. I remember one particular time riding her with my mom through a snow-covered field near my grandparents’ farm, the snow sparkling as it does when untouched on a sunny, cold day in winter. In her later years, Beauty became friends with a ram who would follow her and keep her company. After Beauty, it was many years before I rode a horse again. I went on a trail ride one autumn during college in Colorado. But then nothing. Only memories of Beauty, oh so long ago.

Here I am on Beauty, when I was but a wee one. My mom was leading
us around my grandparents' farm. Beauty was a good, gentle soul. 

So when traveling through Guatemala a few years ago and the opportunity to go horseback riding presented itself, I took the reigns of nostalgia and said, “Giddy up!” Neither of my friends, Ronja from Denmark (you have read about her before here and here), or Evelyn from Guatemala (you have read about her here), had been on a horse before. An adventure awaited us. And we did have a great time.

Here I am in Guatemala, getting ready to go site
seeing with my new buddy.

One thing I noticed while horseback riding in Central America was that the stirrups were too short (or high) for this tall gringa. The most obvious example of this occurred when I went for a trail ride around Laguna Apoyo in Nicaragua. My knees were just too bent to be comfortable. But evidently changing them was too much work or something because my requests were not heeded. It was kind of like riding a bicycle that is too small, only the horse was not too small ... it just felt like he was because my knees were in my chin. But I still had fun, and enjoyed the time with my friends (read more about them here), the views, and the company of a grand animal. 

Here I am on a sweet Nicaraguan horse in a pose more
suitable to a yoga ball. Research tells me the stirrup
(where your foot goes) should come to just below or at
the ankle when your leg is hanging down straight.
Um, not quite. 

To bring up bicycles again, I will say that riding a horse is like riding a bike. You really don’t forget how to do it, even after many years, and even after never really being a master rider to begin with. Going horseback riding somewhere you are visiting, whether it’s a foreign country or not, is part of the traveling adventure you should consider, even if you do it on a regular basis at home. You get to see some beautiful views, enjoy the outdoors, and make a new friend (i.e. the horse). So jump up on that saddle, and ride into the sunset. And good luck with the stirrups.