Homelust (Wanderlust + Homesickness)

I know I’ve only just returned from Montenegro and Cyprus, and that I’m going to England in a month, but I’m getting that restless feeling again, and these short trips (wonderful and exciting as they are) aren’t scratching the itch.

I miss America! I’d like to have:

a medicinal herb holiday (I need to recoup) in Northern California, visiting cousins, friends, and enjoying nature

family time with my nephews, sister, and a little Hollywood glamour in LA

a visit to Seattle and/or Portland, just because

a stop in Ohio for old times’ sake (best friends and their babies, my dad) and another in North Carolina because if I don’t go soon, my bosom buddy out there might very well write me off forever

and time in Washington, DC–because home is where the heart and the vegan food are.

Of course I’d need to dance in each and every one of these places, preferably a combination of performing, teaching, and studying, and earn some money while I’m there to finance the trip.

Then I could come back to Turkey.  Or go to Hong Kong, then Turkey.  Or Hong Kong, Indonesia (they tell me it’s beautiful), then Turkey.

Then I’d be satisfied.  For awhile, anyway.

A Frugal (partly) Foraged Feast

I don’t usually blog about food or cooking, but I felt compelled to do so today.

I first encountered the word “freegan” a few months ago.  I was intrigued, so I did a little research, and learned a bit about this alternative, anti-consumerist way of life.  While some  practices of freeganism are a bit extreme, (or even a bit gross): dumpster diving for food that has been discarded, entering a restaurant to polish off the half-eaten meals of other diners, and squatting; other practices, such as waste minimization, swapping networks, growing your own food, and just the idea of “waste not, want not” are ideas that appeal to me.  Freegan.info is a fascinating website about the movement and has lots of brilliant suggestions that can be implemented according to an individual’s personal comfort level of extremeness.

When I worked in a hostel in Lisbon (fall 2007), I would rejoice when a guest would leave behind a bottle of lotion (I’m a very ashy individual), hair conditioner (my hair is dry, too), or olive oil.  People would leave these things behind because they couldn’t fit them in their suitcases, because the bottles were nearly empty, or they’d simply forget to bring them along when they left.  Post-checkouts can be a goldmine when you’re living in a place where almost everyone but you is transient.

The hostel where I’ve been staying for 10 days has a kichenette in every dorm, plus a bigger community kitchen for everyone to use.  Groceries are inexpensive and the farmers’ market is open everyday.  I feel like someone out of “the olden days” the way I stroll through the market each morning and pick up just the few items I need for the day.  Supplemented by “found” hostel fare, I have been eating very well during my stay!

I bought a bag of greeny-brown lentils (maybe 1 euro), so have made them three times, changing the ingredients for variety and convenience.  Here’s a “non-recipe” for lentils:

~In a medium-sized pot, sautée half an onion in oil (I used found sunflower oil because someone else had “found” my olive oil before I left the hostel.)
~When the onion is transparent, add some minced garlic.
~When it starts to smell yummy, add a few handfuls of lentils. (I have smallish hands and eat a lot, so I used about 4-5 palm’s worth) Stir it all together, then immediately fill the pot with with boiling water.
~Once the water has boiled down some, add a chopped tomato. I used half of an enormous heirloom variety.
~While you’re waiting for the lentils to soften, chop some veggies. I used one carrot and a red pepper.  It takes awhile, so have a quick shower or answer some emails.
~You’re still waiting, so wash and pick apart some leafy greens. I used Swiss Chard (blitva) from the farmers’ market.
~When the lentils taste like they’ve softened enough to be edible, throw in some pasta. I prefer whole wheat, but I used some found penne.  Make sure there’s enough liquid in the pot to boil your noodles.
~Pasta should take about 10 minutes, so five minutes after you add it, toss in your veggies. Overcooked veggies are the worst.
~Pour in some white wine! (I used a found Bello Vino from a very classy liter-sized bottle with a beer cap instead of a cork.)
~Two more minutes and you’ll be eating. Throw in your Swiss Chard (spinach would be good, too and takes the same amount of time to cook.) You can turn off the heat, leave on the lid, and just let the greens steam on top of the food, or you can leave the heat on for a moment more.
~Toss in some salt and pepper! Don’t be shy.

Take a photo, then tuck in!

Lentil veggie stew

Serves two normal people, or one Lara.

Taking a(n Impromptu) Hike

Last night, a few friends and I were admiring the city lights over the bay and the starry night sky from our perch a few stories above  Old Town, on a platform in the fortress of Kotor.  I was so inspired by the tranquility and the view, I decided to wake up frightfully early (just after 8 am) and return to the spot the following morning with my yoga mat.  I’ve been living in crowded quarters that are not conducive to undisturbed yoga time, and I hadn’t practiced yoga in nearly a week.

I made my way to the fortress gate.

Hello, there!

I’d forgotten that during the day, there’s an attendant at the fortress gate charging an entrance fee.  I paid it, walked up a few flights of stairs until I reached the stone plateau from the previous night.  Such a perfect spot!  It could have been designed with a yogi in mind.

View from my yoga paradise

After half an hour or so of sun salutations, I considered heading back down to town to visit the market and head to the beach, but I couldn’t bear to let that 3 euro entrance fee and that golden opportunity go to waste, so I started up the stairs that led to the top of  the fortress. . .

Up I go!

It felt as if the stairs would never end.

One hundred thousand ninety-one, one hundred thousand ninety-two. . .

Sometimes the stairs disappeared, and leaving only rubble and rocks.

Ah, Jesus Sandals. Is there anywhere they can’t go?

Finally, I arrived at the top!  The very top!

The sign says “Increased risk zone”, but I wasn’t scared!

One more backbend for the road.

Definitely worth the (very hot) hike!

 

In a Stone Fortress of Emotion

I was upset at first, but now it’s kinda funny.

Saturday night, my first show went wonderfully. I was well-received, well-treated, and well-paid. I returned to my stone home-away-from home feeling lucky, successful, and happily tired.

The only problem was, Saturday’s show was to be my only show. While I was romanced into coming to Montenegro by a DJ acquaintance of mine for two weeks of ongoing shows, the casino where I performed was under the impression that they were booking me for a one night event. As the DJ is Turkish, the casino manager is Montenegrin, their shared language is English, and the DJ’s English speaking skills are rubbish, I am chalking this entire comedic episode up to a miscommunication. Here’s where the situation gets inconvenient: The casino provided me with lovely accommodations in Montenegro for the days up to and including the night of my show, which took place July 7th. My return flight to Istanbul isn’t until July 19th!

So. . . I’m officially on a completely unplanned and unexpected vacation in Montenegro. In order to economize on lodging, I took a room in the best hostel in Kotor–Old Town Hostel. Incredible, caring staff, beautiful facility, comfortable rooms. However, it is definitely a hostel. Optional daily excursions to the beach, rafting, canoeing, cave exploring, or the national park, 20-year-olds drinking wine from the bottle at the nightly party in the community lounge, a fellow’s hairstyle that includes a silken ponytail complemented by a single, waist-length dreadlock, the obligatory guy with the guitar playing and singing an off-key rendition of “Stand By Me”, a shared bathroom and kitchen, bunk beds, and five roommates. Four of my roommates are Czechoslovakian (two guys and a girl, thankfully none of them snores), and one is a Serbian girl who tends to walk around in her pajamas. . . which are lace panties and a tank top.

Across from the fruit market

I’m not that mad anymore.

Crna Gora MONTENEGRO Karadağ Black Mountain

I arrived in Montenegro four days ago. I’m ashamed to admit that two weeks ago, I knew very little (read: nothing) about the country. I was contacted by a DJ acquaintance of mine who did lights and sound for me last summer in Bodrum, Turkey at Kervansaray Hotel. He’d recommended me for a position performing at a casino here in Kotor, Montenegro, and convinced me that a trip out here to work would be worth my while.

I was skeptical at first, but I’m not one to turn down the chance of a trip to a beautiful country, and with a gig and housing there waiting for me, there wasn’t much risk, so I packed my dance costumes, my bikinis, and my sunglasses, and flew out Wednesday morning after a Baba Zula show the night before in Istanbul.

My first day was exhausting and unorganized, but when I was (finally) shown to my accommodations, things began looking up. I’m staying in a house within the stone walls of Old Town Kotor, (an ancient city that was first fortified in the early Middle Ages!) in a lovely bedsitter.

This is my first visit to such a town, and now I can better imagine the towns authors describe in books like Pillars of the Earth.

Over the past few days, I’ve been lazing around on the beach (a rocky bay, really) at the appropriately named Lazy Bar with my new-found Montenegrin friends, exploring the city, and trying to learn a bit of the language (Serbo-Croatian.) I’ve found it a bit tricky as locals are more likely to cut to the chase and speak to me in English than to humor my attempts at speaking their language, but I’m making some headway. I’ve become a PRO at saying “Hello? How are you? I’m fine thanks. Water, please. It’s very hot today.” Not terrible, considering I didn’t even know the name of the language two weeks ago.

My first show at the casino is tonight.  Opa!

Below are pictures of “my” neighborhood here in Kotor.

So many docks and so many boats

Lazy Beach Bar

Just outside Old Town Kotor’s walls

In two weeks, I’ll be off to do another show with Baba Zula in Cyprus, but if things continue to go well in Montenegro, I might return for another four weeks or so before flying to England.  (!!!)

 

Hello from Montenegro

So far, so good in Montenegro.
I traveled in style from the Podgorica airport to the autobuska stanica in a taxi that happened to be a Mercedes Benz. I was then shuttled 100 km to the town of Kotor in the un-airconditioned cousin of the Scooby Doo Mystery Mobile.
The road from Podgorica to Kotor is a long and bumpy one, but it winds up, around, and through a beautiful mountain range.
Let the adventure begin!

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