The tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the Earth flows somber under an overcast sky. Joseph Conrad would have gone for it. Villages disappear, but after every few bends in the river, I can see Indian fishermen netting or gigging catfish, from armoured ones that can “walk” on dry land, to giants that can swallow a small pig. My destination, Loving Light Amazon Lodge, keeps a shaman on retainer. I seek his vision.

An endless palette of greens shifts in light filtering through cloud patterns and treetops. With 11 times the water volume of the Mississippi, the river system moistens the strongest lungs of the earth. As ill-advised development schemes narrow species diversity, jungle shamans are also endangered. These medicine men and spiritual leaders carry rain-forest knowledge accumulated by countless generations. Most villages are now without a leader. Remaining shamans are elderly, and do not have apprentices. As they die, libraries burn. This blows an ill wind for modern medicine, which acquires many of its clinically useful prescription drugs from the rain forest and the realm of folk medicine. Of 80,000 Amazon plant species, only a fraction have been thoroughly analyzed.

One shaman hanging tough is Marcelino Nolorbe Talexio. Third generation and in his mid-30s, with hopes for his son to join the mystic guild, he looks like an Indian James Mason. Talexio’s house specialty is Ayahuasca, the Inca “vine of the dead, vine of the soul.” Boiling down a species of Banisteriopsis vine and a half-dozen other plants, he produces a potent mix of hallucinogenic alkaloids, used for millennia to enter sacred supernatural worlds for worship, healing and insight.

In the meantime, my fellow travelers and I spend several days gathering our jungle rhythms. We occupy the day with plant lectures, drinking water from one vine, climbing another, and avoiding one caustic enough to burn skin. Traveling the river and adjoining lakes, we take in the local village life that revolves around the river. Children in a one-room schoolhouse sing for us, then play soccer in a jungle clearing. A woman we visit downriver climbs down the high riverbank with several children. They carry parasols and wear pained looks. She lost a child the week before, another is down with fever. A simple gift of ibuprofen is gratefully accepted. The small mounds in a family graveyard, marked by tall yellow and scarlet plants, betray the Amazon’s sadness – high mortality for children.

At night, we hunt tree tarantulas. Is it the brown or the black that really nail you? Whichever, it’s the opposite for scorpions. Or we paddle in suspenseful search of caimans, alligator-like reptiles whose glowing eyes don’t betray their actual size. Our boat guide’s hands move with startling speed, tossing small ones into the boat that unnerve those wearing sandals. Small, colourful frogs land in our arms, one leap ahead of the repeated query, “Is this a poison dart frog?”

Fishing for the legendary peacock bass requires special tackle – one quickly takes my lure like an hors d’oeuvre and keeps going. But piranha are a no-brainer – eat ’em before they eat you, that’s my motto. Actually, you can swim and bathe in the river as long as you’re not bleeding. The tough part is retrieving the hook from the razor teeth of a decent-sized piranha. The best implement I’ve found is an Indian carving of a phallic symbol, although hook removal sends a shiver.

And best not to get caught in a downpour while fishing. Sheets of rain pound our long dugout canoe as lightning slices the gray horizon, thunderclapping applause and layering dread on the faces of the young Indian couple guiding me. We bail wildly until comically pitching our metal pots to the far end of the canoe, as if lightning is so choosy. No jumping to land, either – the thick reeds on this river section hide vipers and, the speedboat long gone for supplies and the shaman who knows where, I chance lightning in preference to the bushmaster and his cousins.

The night of the vision quest finally arrives. The house band – singing guitarist, a maraca shaker and a bongo player – warm up Peruvian blues of unrequited love as we light lanterns and ponder a dinner spiced with a side dish of yellow seed pod sauce known as “monkey-dick.” Offered by the chef with a sly look, its memory alone makes my face sweat.

The ceremony is in a huge, thatched dome roundhouse, with wraparound windows covered by mosquito netting. Those not participating wisely retire to the deck porch overlooking the river, with the exception of the American lodge partner, the designated lifeguard this night.

Talexio begins by blowing tobacco smoke into a soda-pop bottle filled with muddy grey glop, topping off the foulest, vilest tasting brew to cross my lips. How bad? Large, red buckets sit ominously in front of the newly initiated, just in case.

He settles into a five-hour rendition of his Ayahuasca Icaro. An Icaro is a shamanic power song learned from an elder or from the spirits, intended to provoke visions. The song alternates with a melodic whistle while brushes woven from reeds carry the beat on our heads and shoulders, rapping on the door between the inner self and the rain forest.

Nothing. Wait, there’s a shot left over. The shaman spies my move, his eyebrow starts rising, but he’s too slow on the draw. Still, nada.

Ticked at having drunk that gunk to no apparent effect, muck so foul no monkey-dick could fix it, I stand up. I sit down. The jungle’s cacophony of night sounds blend into the shaman’s song, which I hug like a life raft. Skepticism over the shaman’s mental alchemy vanishes as the forest reaches out to my senses while the night’s lightning storms play on the horizon like distant artillery.

The chaotic onslaught of the jungle coalesces into an inclusive organic wave washing over me, imparting the reverence with which many locals view their surroundings. What a loss to lose this relationship. I mull over private thoughts until sunrise.

I’ll share one. My father was a traveling salesman with a well-received megawatt smile. Our bond cemented around riding horses on weekends and vacations where his LeSabre, replaced every two years with phenomenal miles logged, navigated the West in a week. He drove hundreds of miles across Kansas at a fast clip to just make a high school wrestling match. Our relationship strained during the Vietnam protests but I felt lucky to have it. Insights often came from around the corner, a tear while watching “Death of a Salesman.” Born in 1907, his life was interrupted by WWII, when he was second in command on a Navy ship. So dad was in his mid-forties when his only child was born. Some kids confused him with my grandfather. My father died a few years before my Amazon sojourn, just after the birth of my daughter – I think he struggled to hold on until then. I felt I never had time to grieve.

The shaman’s brushes chased away molten pools of gold. Suddenly my father was with me. Arm in arm, we strolled about the circular chamber – which gained size with every step – sheltering us from the thunder and lightning outside. He was a young man I’d never known.

His face matched a large oval portrait photo I’d found in a farm attic, from when he was called “Slim” and “Red”. He wore a straw boater style hat. In real time, I was a generation older than he was during his visit, but that night my years rolled off, too – a peer, a pal. I don’t recall words, but communications were clear as a bell. A smile speaking volumes. Immensely satisfying. Joyful. Fantastic.

In the morning, we gather for the shaman’s debriefing. We describe our visions to a translator and hear the shaman’s analysis. The shaman sips a mixture of rum and garlic, blowing it onto the back of our heads as he sings and whistles and beats about our heads and shoulders with brushes. Sobering.

Talexio takes the helm of a long dugout and we journey down the Yanayacu to the Amazon for a rendezvous with pink river dolphins. They bob around us, like they’re waiting to play a game of Marco Polo. Mixed with their grey brethren, they look as if some crazed interior decorator named Kurtz had gone up river in the ’80s and then gone terribly wrong in the heart of darkness. Hot and weary from the night’s rigours, we swim in the cool murky waters, but the dolphins keep respectful distance. Local mermaid legends undoubtedly originated with the pink dolphins, fueled by a local’s cane-juice horror.

Swimming off the broad expanse of a river beach one easily imagines caimans, electric eels, big fish with fins like daggers and pesky piranha. They don’t concern me. My frontal lobes are captive to the legend of the Candiru, the Toothpick Fish. This tiny parasitic catfish is said to navigate warm urethra canal currents. Once upstream, he secures his berth with open fins. Wrapped like an onion, I sport two swimsuits and all my dirty underwear. If the Candiru gets me, it would only be as an overwrought metaphor for the civilization I have sought refuge from.

Flocks of ducks fly low in formation along the river as we begin the long voyage back up the Yanayacu. Our all-purpose shaman tends the precious motor rigged onto our dugout. Despite strong currents, floating plants form a thick pea green soup. Approaching storm clouds turn the sky steel gray. Not to worry, my shaman is at the rudder.

Suddenly, Talexio looks sheepish. The dugout stops, then drifts backwards. The shaman, who does Ayahuasca four or five times a week, forgot to fill the gas tank. The dugout has one paddle. Night falls.

Lightning flashes and the rain comes. A flashlight beam lights a caiman’s eyes. The beer runs out. “Before we die, what is the lesson, O shaman?” I ask with a sneer.

“Manten tus pantalones bien puestos,” he replies, reading my earlier fit of fright with the Candiru. Roughly translated, it means, “Keep your pants on.”

Loving Light Amazon Lodge: Extremely remote and rustic, but pleasing, with a minimum of layers insulating visitors from the environment. Medical personnel stay for free at Loving Light on any day they spend half their time tending the needs of area villages. Major medical volunteer missions elsewhere in Peru’s Amazon can be organized through the Rainforest Health Project in Washington State (

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Don’t travel down the Yanayacu to bushwhack through the jungle in search of Loving Light enlightenment. You might instead brighten an anaconda. This reprise from the Wayback Machine is in memoriam to Loving Light. Years ago some locals sold off the lodge wood piece by piece without notifying the stateside owner – choose management carefully – a sad loss making this a glorious but brief place in the space/time continuum. Gone but not forgotten, the lodge moved to the Twilight Zone.

The post Amazon Off-Line: Eat This Shrub and Call Me in the Morning appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The mighty Amazon River has amazed me since boyhood. It is the largest river in the world by amount of water discharged and the second longest in length. Boasting earth’s largest rainforest, the river offers visitors an unforgettable journey into the “selva” or jungle as locals call it, where the world’s largest and most diverse collection of plant and animal life are found.

The 4,000-mile-long waterway stretches across nine South American countries as it makes its way eastward from the foothills of the Andes Mountains in Peru towards the Atlantic Ocean. Along its route, the river provides a source of life to more than one-third of all recorded animal species in the world. This includes some 40,000 plant species, 427 types of mammals, 1,300 birds species, 378 different reptiles, more than 400 amphibians, and roughly 3,000 freshwater fish.

A great way to experience the river and jungle together is by boat. There are numerous excellent companies that provide memorable experiences down the Amazon. A friend recommended Rainforest Cruises, which showcases Amazon River cruises from Peru.

Rainforest Cruises start in Iquitos, Peru, located on the banks of the Amazon River, or in the city of Nauta. Both cities are the center of Amazon River cruise activity in Peru, and are found in the enormous province of Loreto, in North-Eastern Peru. Two-thirds of Peru’s land mass is covered by the Peruvian Amazon jungle, much of it unspoiled and waiting to be explored by riverboat.

“An Amazon River cruise in Peru will provide you with a genuine experience of the mighty Amazon River, the rainforest and all the wildlife and people who call it their home,” says the Rainforest Cruises website. “Mischievous capuchin monkeys, tasty Amazonian superfruits, smiling locals and rich rainforest scenery will be sure to give you a lifetime of lasting memories.”

The company says the best way to visit the Peruvian Amazon Rainforest is to tour backwaters aboard a traditional riverboat. River travel is still the primary method of transportation in the region as the Amazon rainforest is mainly a roadless wonder. An Amazon cruise is the only way to access the narrow, winding creeks and tributaries. Trips head deep into the rainforest for the best wildlife-spotting opportunities, jungle treks and local community visits.

Other animals to see on trip down the most biodiverse rainforest / river system on Earth include pink and grey river dolphins, three-toed sloths, jaguars, macaws, capuchin monkeys, anacondas, to name a few. Some of these creatures are endemic to the Amazon region, so being able to see them in their natural habitat can be spectacular. “The Pacaya Samiria National Reserve in Peru boasts some of the Amazon’s most abundant biodiversity. Once you are there, just sit tight, be very quiet and use each of your senses to listen to leaves rustling in the trees,” says Rainforest Cruises.

For many Rainforest Cruises travelers, an unexpected highlight of an Amazon River tour is the chance to sample many of the region’s popular dishes, both traditional and modern. “Meals are lovingly prepared with fresh, locally sourced ingredients from the surrounding environment. You can expect to sample a variety of exquisite fish, meat and vegetable dishes, accompanied perhaps by a cocktail made with exotic tropical fruits. Ask your guide for a Pisco Sour lesson,” says the tour company. With any style of Amazon cruise you choose, the food and drinks onboard will be a trip highlight!

The Peruvian Amazon is also home to a diverse population of Amazonian tribes and mestizo communities. Many of these people keep their traditional lifestyle and some are completely isolated from the outside world. Other communities have decided to share their culture with visitors to the Amazon, inviting tour groups to learn about their lifestyle. A river cruise can give guests an opportunity to meet a local shaman, learn about natural medicine, meet local school kids and see first hand how Amazonian food is prepared.  For more information, visit: Rainforest Cruises

The post A Dream Trip Down the Amazon River with Rainforest Cruises appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The hike was one of four daily activities during our 8-day adventure exploring Amazonia. Calling the Motor Yacht Tucano, an 18-passenger river yacht home, we traveled over 200 miles along the River Negro where the only other waterborne human we saw was the rare fisherman in a dugout canoe. For our daily excursions, we clamored aboard a small power launch which took us hiking, bird-watching, and village hopping, and on night-time outings that dramatized the allure of the river not experienced in any other way. But more on that later.

Souza demanded quiet during our launch rides, using all of his senses to read the forest, listening for the breaking of a branch or a flutter through the trees, sniffing for animal odors, scanning leaves above and below for motion, or the water for ripples… and alerting us at every junction of what he has discovered.  On our own, we would have heard, felt and discerned nothing.

Souza’s most amazing talent was his ability to identify the multitudes of birds traversing the river and forest, many of whose calls he could replicate precisely.  What to us was a dot on a limb was declared a green ibis. Then a snow egret, crane hawk, red-breasted blackbird, jacana, snail kite — so many I just stopped taking notes. So confidently did he identify the inhabitants, we would have believed: “That’s a green-tongued, red-beaked ibirus with one brown eye and a pimple on his right cheek…”

He could imitate more birds than the most gifted comedian can impersonate movie stars. He carried on such intimate conversations, that halfway through a lengthy discussion with a blackish gray antshrike, I think they became engaged. Then Souza, fickle male that he is, romanced a colorful azure blue-beaked Trogan perched upon a dead branch high in a tree. Birds have a surprising preference for dead tree parts. As one of my travel companions observed, “If you don’t like birds, you might as well take the next flight home.”

Back to Machete Man. Our forest walks also were a time for observation, not conversation. On a stop to view teca ants swarming over the bark, Souza wiped his hand across it, proceeding then to rub the ants over his forearms. Instant mosquito repellant — handy tool in the Amazon.

At one point, I looked down and saw a long brown twig draping a log. Souza saw a snake. I looked again and still saw a twig, albeit one that now had an eye. I stepped more gingerly.

We learned of the many medications the forest supplies to the natives; of vines for baskets and brooms; bark for strong rope; plants providing poison for arrows. As we heeded orders to be quiet, the dried leaves below screamed in protest at being trampled, the buzz of the horsefly the most persistent sound.

And then there are the leaf cutter ants! A long assembly line of tiny leaves paraded up a hill, as organized as a marching band. A closer look revealed leaf cutter ants to be the burly carriers. Hard to believe something so fragile can carry so large and unwieldy a load as much as half a mile to its colony.

Surprised at how much he learned about himself on the trip, Ritesh Beriwal, a 23-year-old worn-out Wall Street trainee, noted: “I didn’t realize how interested I’d be in the little things, like how insects such as the leaf-carrying ants build homes. Before it was just an ant; now it’s an ant with an entire life and work history.”

Each day brought new revelations and insight into our surroundings whether on land or water. Our visits to several villages only reinforced that impression.

Commonalities among villages: a dance hall where residents party once a month; a soccer field where youth exercise once a day; a school room where students of all grades learn; a clinic that caters to the medical needs of the community, 2-3 requisite churches where parishioners of different persuasions pray — and a generator. And that’s about it. But the differences are notable as well.

I found the contrast particularly interesting between one village of no more than 30 families producing one farm product and a larger “company” town in which thrives an asphalt industry. In the larger village, there is a convenience store, a small café, a bakery. Each hut has its own outhouse and there are several satellite dishes throughout the community.

The entire economy of the farm community revolves around manioc — a product made from grain that is the mainstay of the Amazonian diet. “If there is no manioc on the table, there is no meal,” explains Souza.

There are no stores in the village, no satellite dishes, and there are no outhouses. Using the woods that border their village as their toilet, it was clearly the largest bathroom facility I had ever seen. On the other hand, the men don’t have to worry about remembering to put the seat down.

Although every day was an adventure, nothing compared with the nighttime jaunts. Our post-dinner sojourns, beginning around 8 p.m., pitched Souza and his searchlight against the dark horizon, scanning shoreline and trees desperately searching for something to entertain his charges.

An all-pervasive quiet loomed, yet everything, including the sounds, seemed magnified: dolphins snorting, fish jumping, caimans slithering, monkeys howling — all vying for attention.

Eventually the flashlight, seemingly darting randomly above, below and beyond the trees, alighted (so to speak) on a caiman in the brush, his whole snout protruding for a moment before slinking away. Or perhaps instead the light reflected off a kingfisher’s eyes, temporarily blinding him so that we could drift in almost close enough to touch. Then for an encore, we watched a spider grab a dragonfly from a crack in a tree directly in front of us — and diligently devour it. Did I mention it was pitch black?

Once again, the refrain in my head: “How does Souza do that?” Either he has a seventh sense about the animals, or the Amazon Tourist Board set them up ahead of time.

Whereas during the day, the trills, tweets and twerps of the birds dominate the landscape, at night it’s the croaks, caws and throaty outpourings of the frogs and caimans.

In between our first launch at 6 a.m to our final return sometime after 9, we pretty much spend the rest of the time eating. The native foods, beautifully prepared and presented, are a surprise this far from civilization.

As much as that is a typical day, so are the exceptions. One particular day we got to sleep in until 6, still early enough to watch the sun pull itself over the forest, and late enough to feel the already oppressive heat seep into my lightweight, washable. anti-bug-treated blouse (though overall, the weather was much more comfortable than anticipated). We were going fishing.

I sat with my Tom Sawyer fishing pole thinking the Amazon’s a long way from the Mississippi. I attached the chunks of beef to the end of the line thinking this was strange bait until I remembered our prey. Watching Souza rattle the water with his pole, I remembered that being quiet was the order of the day on most fishing sojourns. Still, I followed his lead — make the quarry think there’s a wounded fish thrashing about — and within a minute I knew I had snagged the big prize: at the end of my line was the famed carnivorous predator — a 6” piranha.

Souza held it up to a tree and used it like a scissors to cut a branch in two. Just looking at its imposing teeth, we knew it came by its reputation honestly. Still, piranhas get a bad rep. The truth is unless they’re starving, or you’re bleeding, we’re really not in their food chain. Nonetheless, the fried piranhas we had that night as appetizers were scrumptious, their tiny bones crunchy and the meat flaky, proving the wise adage that more people eat piranhas than piranhas eat people — at least in Amazonia.

If You Go

I flew United, one of several airlines that go nonstop from several U.S. cities to Sao Paulo, then transferred to TAM for the hop to Manaus. American Airlines and LATAM Airlines also have daily non-stop flights from Miami to Manaus.

When to go. The January to June rainy season brings heavy but relatively brief downpours. Rivers rise dramatically — often as high as 45 feet. The high water enables small boats to reach areas inaccessible at other times of year

During dry season, roughly July to December, rivers run shallow, and while white sand beaches — excellent for a refreshing swim — appear, most of the area is more arid and less lush.   Best time to visit is April to September.

For more information, contact Latin American Escapes or call 800-510-5999.

Some Caveats

• If you’re looking to see a lot of four-legged wildlife, go on a safari.
• If taking a nightly hot shower is important, stay at a hotel (although the river water is tepid enough so as not to be too uncomfortable). There are hot water showers during the day on the vessel.
• Although we didn’t experience any, the pre-trip information warns of glitches, inconveniences and delays and advises to bring along a lot of tolerance and patience.
• Post-hike showers are required, including the need to wash out your clothes to prevent any insect mishaps.
• There is a certain sameness to the daily activities.
• There is also a 5 day/4 night option.

The post Amazonia: Not Your Typical Tourist Destination appeared first on Traveling Archive.

• 9% of Americans have been on vacation without their partner and lied to them about it
• Main reasons are to go with friends, drink more heavily and to have a break from each other
• More than two fifths got found out by their partner; one in five broke up as a result
• One in ten Americans have cheated on their partner whilst on vacation

The study was undertaken by the team behind flight-comparison website www.us.jetcost.com, in which more than 4,100 people over the age of 18 were quizzed about previous vacations. All respondents revealed that they are – or have been – in a relationship during the past five years while they’ve travelled.

Respondents were initially quizzed on things that they do without their partner, and the most common things were found to be ‘going to a club/bar’ (76%), ‘shopping’ (63%) and ‘going to a sports match’ (54%). What’s more, one in 11 (9%) admitted that they have been on vacation without their other half and lied about it, of which 71% were male and 29% were female. The most common reasons were ‘wanting to go with friends’ (38%), ‘to drink more heavily’ (26%) and ‘to have a break from one other’ (14%).

The most common excuses used by those that lied about going on vacation were ‘to stay with family’ (40%), ‘going on a work trip’ (31%) and ‘to visit a friend’ (26%). Of those that lied, more than two fifths (43%) said that they had been found out by their other half, and one in five (20%) of these broke up with their partner as a result.

A further one in ten respondents (10%) said that they had cheated on their partner when on vacation, and shockingly of these, 5% did the deed whilst they were away with them.

Conversely, a number of Americans admitted that they had been on a vacation with their partner without telling other people, with 14% admitting to this feat. On this occasion, 76% of people who did this were women, and the rest men.

The most common people lied to were friends (53%), and the predominant reason was ‘because my friends had asked me to do something at the same time’ (47%).

Commenting on the findings of the study, a spokesperson for www.us.jetcost.com said:

“It’s not healthy to spend 100% of your time with your partner, but there really shouldn’t be any need to go to the extent of lying about going on vacation. They should understand if you want to go away without them, whether it’s with friends or for a bit of a break, and vice versa your friends should understand if you want to go away with your partner.”

2019’s Best Places for Oktoberfest Celebrations & Fun Facts

With Oktoberfest soon to kick off and the average flight from New York to Munich from mid-September to late-October costing $500-$1,000, the personal-finance website WalletHub today released its report on 2019’s Best Places for Oktoberfest Celebrations as well as accompanying videos, along with fun and interesting facts about the event in its Oktoberfest Facts – History, Beer, Food & More infographic. To determine the best cities for partaking in the epic German festival, WalletHub compared the 100 largest cities across 24 key metrics, ranging from share of German population to number of beer gardens per capita to average price for Oktoberfest celebration ticket.

To view the full report and your city’s rank, please visit: https://wallethub.com/edu/best-cities-for-oktoberfest/24327/

Oktoberfest Fun Facts:

• $5,000: Estimated cost for an American to attend Oktoberfest in Munich, Germany.
• 1.98 Million: Gallons of beer consumed during Oktoberfest.
• 510,000+: Number of whole roast chickens eaten, plus 60,000 sausages and 59,000 pork knuckles.
• $1.43 Billion: Oktoberfest’s annual economic impact on Munich.
• $70,120: Median annual income for German-American households ($60,336 for all households).

To view the full infographic, please visit: https://wallethub.com/blog/oktoberfest-facts/24332/

A Letter to British Airlines from Traveling Boy’s Brom Wikstrom

Dear British Airlines,

My wife and I recently returned from a 13-hour flight from Stockholm, transferring in Heathrow and continuing home to Seattle. Flight B049. I seek clarification of issues that have caused us both a great deal of distress and hope that you can help.

I do have an extreme issue regarding our flight re-assignment.  When we made our reservations several months ago we clearly stated that our need for bulkhead seating was a medical necessity as I am a high-level quadriplegic and am 6’4” long. On a flight of this duration I am at risk of developing pressure sores and need to be able to shift my weight frequently to avoid a complication. In bulkhead seating this is not a problem as I can readily move my body forward to relieve the pressure.

Imagine our horror when checking in at Heathrow and being informed that our seats had been switched because someone was willing to pay an upcharge to secure our prearranged seats. We were informed that nothing could be done since the flight was full and overbooked. This was simply not true as the seat beside us and in front of us were unoccupied. With no alternative, I was tightly wedged into the fourth row aisle seat and completely unable to move my body forward, to the side or otherwise adjust my position. About the 7^th hour of our 10 hour flight I began to experience sharp chest pains that did not subside for the remainder of the flight (nor have they abated since after spending all of yesterday at the emergency room with x-rays, ct scans etc.). I may have sustained an attack of pleurisy, something I’ve never experienced. I thought I was having a cardiac arrest and that you might have had a corpse on your hands.

I also sustained a pressure sore on my posterior that will take some weeks to heal. We are angry, perplexed and confused that we were not informed of our impending reassignment and would have gladly paid the up-charge to maintain the seats we so carefully thought we had secured. We observed the people who had our seats and they were not mothers with children nor did they have any other visible need to be there.

I write travel articles for Travelingboy.com and my personal site bromwikstrom.com and seek to give travelers with disabilities insights and advice on how to make their journeys as safe and as memorable as possible. This has been a memorable journey for us for all the wrong reasons. You may inform me of the fine print in your travel contract that allowed you to change our seating assignment without notification.

I do not fault BA for the hour delay in departing Heathrow nor blame BA for the 2-hour delay in recovering our bags in Seattle. Your staff and crew were excellent hosts and exemplify the fine service we have come to expect from BA.

Regrettably, I will no longer be able to recommend British Air to my readers.

Sincerely yours

Brom Wikstrom

11 Endangered Bucket List Destinations (And How to Visit Them Responsibly)

Courtesy of Mariana Zapata, SmarterTravel

Climate change and overtourism make daily headlines now and are stark reminders that some of the most beautiful places in the world are at risk of disappearing. For many travelers, the natural response to this is “last chance tourism,” or a rush to see endangered places while they’re still here. But before writing obituaries for these endangered destinations, consider instead taking actionable steps before and during your trip to keep them from disappearing. Here are 11 at-risk destinations and what you can do to help preserve them.

Great Barrier Reef, Australia

Teeming with biodiversity, beauty, and Finding Nemo references, the Great Barrier Reef is one of the most impressive natural wonders of the world. Sadly, climate change and irresponsible tourism have placed a strain on this natural wonder. About half of the reef is estimated to have died since 2016.

What you can do to help: Switch to reef-safe, oxybenzone-free sun care products.

Where to stay: Lady Elliot Island Eco Resort is secluded, peaceful, and on its way to being 100 percent sustainable by 2020.

Venice, Italy

The unfortunate poster child for overtourism, Venice struggles with pollution, overcrowding, and the mass exodus of its locals. It’s also slowly sinking. Fast and convenient water taxis are often the preferred mode of transportation for tourists in the city, but it’s these same water taxis that contribute to many of the issues facing this historic city. Moto Ondoso, or wake pollution, is an issue distinct to Venice in which waves corrode the city’s structure and put it at risk of sinking.

What you can do to help: Go the scenic route and walk or enjoy a gondola ride instead. 

Where to stay: Formerly a monastery, the 500-year-old Santa Chiara Hotel lets you experience the city like it was before the giant cruise ships came.

Machu Picchu, Peru

Machu Picchu survived the fall of the Inca Empire, but it might not survive tourists. After earning a well-deserved place as one of the New Seven Wonders of the World, the breathtaking archeological site continues to see an extreme surge in tourism. The groups that arrive en masse are not always at their best—leaving trash behind on the Inca Trail and even vandalizing stones. One detrimental behavior that even conscious travelers often engage in is not respecting marked trails. Stepping over the ugly rope seems harmless and gets you a better Instagram picture, but when millions of people do it, the effect is substantial.

What you can do to help: Stay within the marked paths to help preserve this wonderful UNESCO World Heritage Site. Or, consider visiting one of the similar but lesser-known “lost” Inca cities like Choquequirao instead.

Where to stay: An upscale ecological retreat far from the noise of Aguas Calientes and the commercialization of Cuzco, explora Valle Sagrado is committed to responsible tourism across the Sacred Valley and to Machu Picchu itself.

The Florida Everglades

Nicknamed the “River of Grass,” the Florida Everglades is a unique and largely underappreciated ecosystem. Having already lost almost nine of its 11 million acres, the Everglades is officially the most endangered national park in the United States.

What you can do to help: The most eco-friendly way to see the Everglades is a walk through the swamp. (Yes, a walk.) Photographer Clyde Butcher offers guided swamp walks that will have you wading waist-deep in the water. If you’re not ready to get so close to nature, a minimal-impact airboat tour might be your best bet. 

Where to stay: The locally-owned Ivey House is a stone’s throw away from the Everglades’ wilderness

The Amazon

Spanning nine countries, the Amazon rainforest contains unimaginable biodiversity and hundreds of indigenous communities. But massive deforestation in the name of cattle ranching and mining is assailing the “lungs of the world,” threatening not just the Amazon but the health of the planet as a whole.

What you can do to help: When you visit the Amazon, choose a tour company that supports local communities most directly affected by the deforestation. Gondwana Ecotours, for example, works with indigenous communities to help them preserve their autonomy and customs. It also offers a carbon offset program for your flight to Ecuador.

Where to stay: Enjoy comfort in the heart of the jungle at Kapawi Ecolodge. 

Antarctica

Though one of the most remote places on earth, Antarctica is on the front lines of the effects of climate change. Ice is melting at an alarming rate, and overfishing of krill threatens the region’s entire food chain.

What you can do to help: You should endeavor to have as little impact as possible when you visit, and one of the best ways to do this is to go cozy rather than big when choosing a cruise ship. Smaller ships have a smaller carbon footprint and produce less waste; they also allow you more time on land, since only 100 people are allowed on shore at any given time. On bigger ships, you’ll have to wait your turn. 

Where to stay: Though you’ll spend most of your nights on board, One Ocean offers on-shore camping options for travelers. They also use their vessels to help conduct scientific research. 

Borneo, Malaysia and Indonesia

While in Borneo, you’ll probably want to take in the beaches, hike Mount Kinabalu, and trek through the forest. In the past 30 years, the Bornean forest has been reduced by a third due to legal and illegal logging and palm oil plantations. The good news is that this is one example where visiting this endangered natural habitat can actually help the situation.

What you can do to help: Activists argue that spending money on park fees and sustainable tours will convince the government that preserving the forest is good for business, prompting leadership to support conservation efforts rather than the exploitation of the forest. 

Where to stay: Borneo Rainforest Lodge provides a five-star eco experience right in the middle of the rainforest. 

Big Sur, California

The extreme and somewhat unforgiving geographical conditions of Big Sur are also what makes it so breathtaking. The area has always been prone to heavy rainfall and landslides, but as climate change worsens, so do these natural catastrophes. To the dismay of lovers of dramatic landscapes and bohemian history, the scenic drive through Big Sur might not be possible in the future.

What you can do to help: Rent a hybrid or electric car for your road trip. The impact might seem miniscule, but if every one of the five million annual visitors who pass through Big Sur did this, it’d be anything but. 

Where to stay: Get scenic ocean and mountain views at the locally owned Post Ranch Inn.

The Alps

Global warming strikes yet again, and this time the victims are the iconic ice caps of the Alps. With rising temperatures, ice throughout this European mountain range is melting. Since many towns around the Alps depend economically on winter sport tourism, they are resorting to covering the snow with blankets and overusing snowmaking machines. The problem is that these machines contribute to global warming, and trap the towns in a vicious cycle of trying to preserve their livelihood in a way that contributes to its destruction.

What you can do to help: Enjoy the beauty of the Alps in summer. You’ll get lower prices and also help tip the balance towards activities that don’t depend on manmade snow.

Where to stay: The Austrian town of Werfenweng is leading efforts toward sustainable tourism in the Alps with carbon-neutral vacation offerings. Stay at Hochhausl Pension to support these efforts; the views aren’t too bad either.

The Great Wall of China

One of ancient humanity’s greatest accomplishments is endangered, in part, because people won’t stop tearing it apart. Whether to build other structures or to sell bits and pieces as souvenirs, locals are stealing parts of the wall and tourists are more than happy to buy them. The situation is so dire that almost a third of the wall built during the Ming Dynasty is gone.

What you can do to help: This one’s pretty obvious. Don’t buy parts of the wall.

Where to stay: Stay at Brickyard Retreat at Mutianyu Great Wall to escape being rushed through the most frequented parts of the wall. 

The Galapagos

If you visit the Galapagos today, you’ll still be able to see around 95 percent of the species Charles Darwin saw. However, scientists warn that if tourism continues to grow at its current rate, that might not be the case for long.

What you can do to help: Besides practicing common sustainable tourism practices like not feeding wild animals and staying within marked paths, you can also watch what you eat while traveling around the Galapagos. Overfishing and illegal fishing are endangering species like sea cucumbers, lobsters, and sharks. Avoid eating these and try to find restaurants that buy from artisanal fishers. If you’re really craving lobster, the WWF recommends buying it live rather than going for the tail. Doing this can increase the price, which raises profits and lowers demands on fishermen. 

Where to stay: Many people travel through the Galapagos on boat, but land travel is a great way to interact with the local community. Stay at locally owned Galapagos Eco Friendly for a relaxed, no-frills experience.

The Middle Seat Is About to Get Wider on Some Planes

(CNN) — It is a truth universally acknowledged that middle seats on airplanes are the worst.Being awkwardly sandwiched in between two people while fighting for elbow room is the bane of most passengers. Now a new design might actually make people want the middle seat — or at least make the travel experience less miserable. The S1 design from the Colorado-based startup, Molon Labe Seating, features three economy seats in a staggered layout, putting the middle seat slightly behind the aisle and window seats, and at a slightly lower height.

Sitting directly adjacent to two people means that passengers only have so much shoulder room. But moving the middle seat back a few inches allows for more space, so the company made the middle seat about three to five inches wider than the standard 18 inch seat.

“That little bit of stagger means that every single person gets to spread out a little more,” Hank Scott, the founder and CEO of Molon Labe Seating, told CNN.

Passengers won’t have to fight over elbow space either. The armrests are also built so that they are not a uniform height from front to back. They will allow the aisle and window passengers to rest their elbows on the front of the armrest while leaving space at the back, which is lower, for the middle passenger.

“No seats are any smaller, one seat ends up being wider, and we’ve solved the elbow wars,” Scott said.

The seats are intended for shorter, domestic flights, though the company is developing a version for longer flights that include more padding and larger TV screens.

So when can passengers test out these seats for themselves?

The seats were certified by the Federal Aviation Administration last month, and are being manufactured by Primus Aerospace in Colorado. Scott said that he expected they would be available on two airlines by April or May of 2020. Though he could not disclose which airlines would feature the seats, he said one of them is based in North America.

It’s not just passengers who will be happier with the new arrangement, Scott said. The seats are lighter than standard airline seats, which could help cut down on fuel costs.

“For an airline, it’s kind of a no-brainer,” he said.

The S1 seats won’t fix everything about flying — the seats don’t recline or offer any more legroom. And that’s not to mention the food, the chatty passengers, the inefficient boarding and de-boarding processes … and the list goes on.

“It’s still going to suck,” Scott said. “Now it’s going to suck less.”

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One Year Old Cat

It was an uphill battle from the start. Like the heroes of the Star Trek series realized, the Borg were just too powerful — resistance was futile. Similarly, resistance to the charms of that feline was futile. The creature that my wife and daughter connived to bring into our home was out to get me from day one. I knew cat hair would pile up. I knew cat food coming in (feeding) and coming out (pooping) would be a daily routine … so would the expensive visits to the vet. I avoided it for months but it kept coming to me for scratches and massages. It was terrible. I was used. I was manipulated by an expert. Those ever-curious eyes that glowed in the dark, the gentle pushes for attention when we were in bed, the routines of meeting me halfway down the stairs — who could resist?

I dug up this old story that Naomi of N Hollywood sent me back in 2014. It reminded me so much of my predicament today. We’ve all had trouble with our animals but I don’t think anyone can top this one:

The New Cat Toy

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I’m lying.

On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head.

The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife’s wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.

Initially, the new acquisition was no problem …then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.

“Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it.”

“You know where the button is,” I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. “Reset it yourself!”

“But I’m scared!” she persisted. “What if it starts going and sucks me in?” There was a meaningful pause and then, “C’mon, it’ll only take you a second.”

So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly.

Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn’t the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. At the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.

Wild animals are sometimes faced with a “fight or flight” syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the “flight” option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor butt naked in front of a group of “been-there, done-that” paramedics.

Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter … and not succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was. “What’s the matter?” They all asked, “Cat got your tongue?”

If they only knew!

If you don’t have pets, take it from me, don’t even consider it. If you already succumed to the temptation, you have my sympathy. May the animals in your home keep you out of trouble! TGIF people!

Joke of the Week

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C. for sending this joke.

Video of the Week

Tim Conway: The Dentist
Sent by Don of Kelowna, B.C.

One of our favorite comedians passed away this week. Don requested that, in his honor, we share one of his beloved skits. Goodbye Tim. Thanks for all the laughter.

Don’s Puns

From Don’s collection of puns

There was the person who sent ten puns to friends, with the hope that at least one of the puns would make them laugh. No pun in ten did. 

Interesting Video of the Week

Sent by Art of Sierra Madre, CA

Watch “How Amazon Spies on Americans with Face-Rekognition.” This is pretty long but this guy presents it with wit and humor.

Parting Shot

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C. who shared this.

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I feel like I’ve made it home… but in a strange way. The welcome at the airport lobby, the nauseating drive through the hills, the exhaustion of climbing up only two flights of stairs to my new living area (I like to blame it on the 10,000 ft. elevation), walking up to the roof and seeing patches of clear stars between clouds, waking up to the constant sound of dogs barking and car horns honking through the window, the smell of freshly baked bread from the panaderia up the street, and the long awaited taste of chifles (plantain chips). Since I left this beautiful country I have been excited to return, but I had no idea I would feel so at peace being back. From the first sight of the city lights to the familiar taste of chifles my heart has become so full of joy! I feel at home… and I love it.

The past month being back has been full – full of making new memories in many places which feel like home. Although many of the places and sights are familiar from my previous time here, the beauty never ceases to amaze me. Ecuador has so much to offer in every realm of scenery: stunning snow capped mountains, lush green jungle life, vibrant old churches and buildings in colonial Quito, free flowing waterfalls, and breathtaking volcanic lakes hidden behind rugged farmland. Besides these experienced in the past few weeks, Ecuador is home to a coastline with beautiful beaches and the infamous Galapagos Islands.

After spending almost five months here in the past couple years, I have had the opportunity to venture to most of the well known “must sees” of Ecuador. As I return to many of these magnificent sites or even walk in the nearby park, many different memories come flashing back. I remember the friends I played soccer with at the park, the meals shared at the nearby almuerzo place, conversations in local coffee shops and the laughter and games played at the hostel in the jungle. In remembering, it’s easy to get stuck in comparison or more easily to dwell in the sadness of missing the people I made these memories with. Without rejecting the natural feelings of melancholy, I also have to recognize the blessing and joy of remembering these past experiences shared together. How sweet is it to be back in various places where I can remember joyous times of community and growth? I am so grateful for each one of these people who come to mind: my host mom and extended family, my cohorts and staff from last spring, and my team members and staff from Extreme Nazarene.

It is a joy to be able to create new memories with the students I am with now and to adventure to new places. As much as I love returning to the familiar, Quito and Ecuador always has more to discover. Not only do I have more waterfalls and cities to see, but I always have more to learn of the culture and people who have welcomed me in.

Although pictures never show the full magnitude of a moment, here are some of my favorite shots to hopefully give you a glance into some of these places I have found a home in.

I sense God’s presence so strongly here. I know God is here and I feel so at rest in Him. The sights and sounds bring back memories of many hours spent soaking in God’s presence on a similar rooftop last summer or long walks up the same jagged sidewalks praying over the city with friends. The surrounding beauty of the hills and architecture remind me of his presence in creation. I am overwhelmed with joy and peace. My brother’s words ring through my head, “God’s presence is found right now, not in the past or future. So live in it – soak it up!”

“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.”

Flashback: A New Life in Ecuador (early Feb. 2017)

The past two days have felt like a week in the amount of excitement and joy held in them. The hours spent in fellowship with the staff and my cohorts makes me feel like we’ve known each other for many months. I am so grateful for how welcome and loved the staff has already made me feel.

I am humbled to be here… to feel at home. I can’t wait for the many days to live and grow with this community in God’s presence.

And the last few weeks have been full of learning moments: learning how to breathe walking up and down constant hills, how to shop in a foreign grocery store and fruit market, how to take public transportation, how to dress in layers with the back and forth sunshine and rain, and learning where the best and cheapest panadería is located.

Los gotitas – “little droplets.” Every Tuesday and Friday morning a friend and I have the privilege to volunteer at a Extreme Mission Daycare. This organization provides childcare for parents who recycle to earn a living. They noticed many young children ages 0-5 had nowhere to go but to be alongside their parents in the dumps during the day. With little to no expectations I walked through the door Tuesday morning and before I could say “Hola” I felt tiny arms embracing my legs. The next four hours were full of laughter and play with about 15 kids. I was surprised how many words or phrases the children taught me after only two days. Although we don’t have a specific project they want help with, I look forward to being able to help care for the children.

Learning to Listen (late Feb. 2017)

I have been at a loss for words recently. The honeymoon stage of the trip has ended and the rhythms of living in a new country have set in. As soon as my house full of new friends became comfortable and familiar, change swept in. I still can’t believe it has already been a week since I’ve moved in with an Ecuadorian family. I am humbled to have been so quickly and lovingly accepted by mí mamá and mí hermana. This week has been full of awkward moments, conversations in Spanish, storytelling to missed friends, and great Ecuadorian food: empanadas verdes, leche con fruta, sopa de chancho, and fresh fruit juice.

I love talking to people. I love sharing who I am, my opinion, my story. After being here only a week, there have been so many instances where I haven’t been able to say what I want to say simply because I don’t know how. It’s true. I am at a loss for words. As frustrating as this may be I am learning how to listen… and listen well. I am recognizing how often I open my mouth to spill my opinion when all that is needed or wanted is an open ear. Understanding a culture begins by listening. When I stop and listen I hear the flapping of the towels drying on the clothesline, the Spanish music of a novella playing in the house, the honking of gas trucks outside, the crackling of fried empanadas, or the shouting of street vendors selling their goods.

The slower pace of life in this new home has not been easy, but has been much needed. I am beginning to greatly appreciate the ease of how things are done: the slow paced walks with the dog or the leisure of preparing food. So often I go into activities or tasks with the mindset of completing them, never once stopping to listen in the middle. Sometimes it means listening to my own emotions, yet other times it means listening to the needs of others, the Holy Spirit, or others’ advice. Listening is not easy and has challenged me to become more humble, more patience and more disciplined.

This beautiful culture has much to say. May I learn to take the time to listen.

Slowing Down (April 2017)

We made it through this week of exams and final papers and are headed to back to the jungle… well half of our ‘equipo’ anyway. The other half left this morning to the Galapagos until we switch places. At the end we all head to the beach for a final few days as a debrief. There’s a lot to look forward to yet my mind keeps turning back reflecting on the past two and a half months, let alone the last few weeks of adventures. We traveled to Baños (no, not to the bathroom) to go white water rafting for a day and swing “off the edge of the world.” I also had the privilege of showing my parents a snapshot of Quito and my life here. The blue skies, sun, mountains, and stars, all decided to say hi for a few days and it was so beautiful. After living here for almost three months, I forgot some things weren’t normal the first week I was here. I loved reliving the excitement of crossing the streets or getting a taxi, watching my mom’s face light up buying a piece (ok. maybe three) of ‘suave’ bread for 25 cents, walking through mountains of seemingly never ending fruit stands in awe, climbing up one block and being out of breath, or ordering a huge almuerzo for only $2.50. Although the setting was so different to be with family, I loved spending time with my parents exploring.

The past month has been full of laughter being back in the apartment with friends. Clear skies led us to sleep on the roof a few times. April fools started a war of pranks in the house. Coming back to the apartment feels like home. This last weekend I came home one evening by myself and as I opened the taxi door, I immediately heard, “Schmannie!!!!” (my nickname from my house). Walking up the stairs I heard laughter and singing coming from the roof where a huge group of friends were roasting s’mores and dancing. I am going to miss this. The departure date is quickly approaching… and I wish I could stop in time. I want to treasure these next three weeks together without avoiding the fact the semester is ending. I can’t believe this semester is ending so soon.

Beauty Everywhere – May 2017

Much dreaming and many words are meaningless therefore stand in awe of God. – Ecclesiastes 5:7.

This verse kept ringing through my head this weekend as I had the privilege of wandering and exploring a tiny part of the Amazon jungle called Misahualli. I am still trying to soak in the reality that I just spend three days in the Amazon jungle. It felt like a dream; the landscape of Tarzan coming to life. I witnessed a beauty I had never seen before in so many different ways. Nature full of new sights: unique birds, trees, insects, landscapes, and colors.  The lushest, most abundant green was everywhere I looked. I understand how it is so green as every few hours we would find ourselves stuck in a warm pouring rain.

Not only did I find beauty in nature, but I saw beauty in people. The unity in people from differing backgrounds and nations working together, learning from each other, and helping each other. The peacefulness in an elderly man leisurely whistling as he biked his cart down the street or the joy of watching friends hysterically laugh in the back of a truck in the pouring rain. Our group has talked about how there is something about the jungle which allows you to be fully you. An openness and vulnerability was created as we were forced into new experiences. It’s hard to hide your true self when you are in the middle of something you are deeply passionate about. I found so much beauty in seeing people’s personalities, joys, passions, or values portrayed as they were fully present in a moment. I saw someone dance wildly in front of everyone to lead music for children, someone working hard to stir cement without complaining, someone encourage another in their fear or weakness, and yet another faithfully stand by a friend in pain. You can’t hide your sweat and stink after even a day in the jungle and I am so grateful for these moments of truth. It was so beautiful watching people be who God created them to be.

True beauty does not always appear beautiful at first sight. Sometimes you have to search for beauty amidst the struggles and pain. We had the privilege to work with missionaries and hear a part of their stories and passion for this community. Although they have started a thriving Christian school, a farm to help provide jobs, and a girls’ home, they continue to pursue more for this community. It was so amazing to see how God is present and has been working in this community. Not only did they talk about previous progress but they talked about their past and current hardships with full honesty. They were not shy in expressing how they were really doing and at first I was taken aback. I became easily discouraged and saddened when I heard how hard it has been for one family in particular. Deep within these struggles and frustration I saw a beauty in their honesty of what they were going through, their humility to ask for prayer, and their perseverance for the future.

It is easy for me to come back from the jungle completely taken by the beauty of nature and the amazing experiences. I was also reminded of the reality that many people are hurting and struggling there just like anywhere else: youth falling to worldly influences, broken families, or lonely missionaries. But amidst this pain, God’s presence was evident. Above all, I think all these experiences and emotions helped me glimpse a tiny bit more of God’s beauty. God is helping me understand better his great compassion for his children, his creativity and design in nature, his power to enable those who feel weak, and his purpose for every single person’s life. All I could do was sit in awe.

It’s also easy to see beauty in people or places when it is expected: a close friend, a sunset, or an animal. I want to go searching for beauty: for loveliness in a seemingly rough situation, an excellent quality of an annoying friend, or a pleasurable sight of nature in the middle of a storm. What if we were to treat every person as if we were meeting a king or queen: expecting beauty and ready to accept who they are. I think we would be pleasantly surprised by the amount of beauty we would find.

Chao! – Ecuador slang for goodbye/see ya later.

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