About
I'm an expat Californian who is obsessed with traveling to strange and exotic destinations in the former Communist Bloc. I also like tacos, beer, surfing, trapshooting, and the geopolitics of oil. I currently live in Arlington, Virginia and work in Washington, DC. Read more about me here, check out my photo album, or send me an e-mail.
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Krakow is one of my favorite places on earth. It is a medieval city full of young people. A wonderful, striking combination. – Jonathan Carroll
If you’ve been following this blog for the past few years, you’re certainly well aware that I have somewhat of an obsession with trying to visit multiple countries within a timespan of only a few days (i.e, last year’s trip to the Caucasus, or the one day Croatia-Bosnia-Montenegro run of ‘05, a current personal best). It’s like an episode of the amazing race, only with more landmines and disgruntled Kalashnikov-carrying border guards.
I didn’t think that we needed to spend an entire week in Kiev, so I pulled up Google Maps and made a list of nearby countries that I hadn’t visited yet: Romania? Moldova? Slovakia? Belarus? Poland? Poland, as it turns out, seemed the most cost-effective travel wise, and Krakow was a city on my “to do” list that I had missed while studying in London (Yes, I did occasionally have to go to class). So, after spending four days in Kiev, Laura and I caught a flight to Krakow while Ryan hopped a train to the Crimea.
On our flight leaving Kiev, I was seated next to a young Ukrainian couple, who, I surmised, had never flown before. They clutched each other’s hands tightly, and as our plane gained speed for takeoff, the girl shut her eyes and repeatedly crossed herself. Fortunately, the flight was uneventful and divine intervention was not required. We switched planes in Warsaw and finally landed at Krakow’s John Paul II International Airport, named after a former local priest turned international Catholic superstar.
Our apartment was located near Market Square in the Old Town section of Krakow, an incredibly beautiful historic quarter composed of cobblestone streets and buildings dating back to the 15th century. Market Square is an ideal place to sit at an outdoor cafe and sip a cappuccino or glass of Żywiec beer with a shot of grenadine.
Yes, beer and grenadine. I was puzzled when I flipped through the drinks menu and saw a list of syrups displayed next to the beer choices. “So, uh,” I asked the waitress, “you add syrup to the beer?!” She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Yes, syrup for the beer.” Well, I like beer, and I like flavored syrups, so maybe they’d be good together. The end result was something that looked like a Shirley Temple, and tasted, well, good enough.

Cloth Hall in Market Square
We really only had one full day of sightseeing in Krakow, but managed to cover a lot of ground despite the cold temperature and steady downpour of rain. We spent the morning touring Kazimierz, the home of Krakow’s Jewish population until the Nazi invasion of Poland in World War II.

A courtyard used during the filming of Schindler’s List
Shortly after the Nazis invaded Poland, they forcibly removed all Jews from Kazimierz and placed them in the Krakow Ghetto. Conditions in the Ghetto were grim, with 15,000 people living in an area formerly occupied by 3,000 residents.

Memorial to those killed

The pharmacy run by Tadeusz Pankiewicz, a Polish national hero.

The entrance to Oskar Schindler’s factory

Schindler’s office

Site of the Kraków-Płaszów concentration camp

Former mass graves
We spent the rest of the day at Wawel Castle, the former residence of Polish royalty. To be honest with you, I found it to be a bit boring. Beautiful architecture, but after a while all the castles start to look alike.

Obligatory “American” pose
The following day we toured Auschwitz and the Wieliczka Salt Mines. More on that later.
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Oh yeah, we all talk like this.
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Oh, what a surprise – the U.S. government is building a huge database to track U.S. citizens that dare venture outside the country:
The U.S. government is collecting electronic records on the travel habits of millions of Americans who fly, drive or take cruises abroad, retaining data on the persons with whom they travel or plan to stay, the personal items they carry during their journeys, and even the books that travelers have carried, according to documents obtained by a group of civil liberties advocates and statements by government officials.
[...]
The DHS database generally includes “passenger name record” (PNR) information, as well as notes taken during secondary screenings of travelers. PNR data — often provided to airlines and other companies when reservations are made — routinely include names, addresses and credit-card information, as well as telephone and e-mail contact details, itineraries, hotel and rental car reservations, and even the type of bed requested in a hotel.
I’ll save a few tax dollars and let the government know right here that I prefer a king bed when staying in a hotel. I’m tempted to request a copy of my file to see if there is anything bizarre in there. Maybe something like “Cursory inspection of subject’s luggage revealed 13 Soviet military caps, 3 Lenin statues, one Russian flag, 5 stacking dolls, 2 bottles of vodka and various other items that I cannot believe this girl wasted money on.”
And this is completely effed up:
Zakariya Reed, a Toledo firefighter, said in an interview that he has been detained at least seven times at the Michigan border since fall 2006. Twice, he said, he was questioned by border officials about “politically charged” opinion pieces he had published in his local newspaper. The essays were critical of U.S. policy in the Middle East, he said. Once, during a secondary interview, he said, “they had them printed out on the table in front of me.”
Let this be a lesson to you bloggers out there…if you want your border crossing to be relatively painless, don’t critique U.S. foreign policy on the internets, as Customs apparently knows how to use Google. What technology will they finally discover next? Facebook? I guess now is as good a time as ever to leave that “HAAA!! I had an entire box of real Romeo y Julietas in my suitcase and those CBP suckas didn’t find it!” group.
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The Blacksmith Institute recently published its list of the world’s most polluted places, with four of the top ten located in the former Soviet Union:
* Sumgayit, Azerbaijan (chemical industry)
* Dzerzhinsk, Russia (chemical weapons production)
* Norilsk, Russia (nickel mining)
* Chernobyl, Ukraine (radiation)
Never made it to Sumgayit when I was in Azerbaijan, but the area outside of Baku was the most polluted place I’d ever seen…huge pools of crude oil, rusting equipment, broken pipelines…the place was just a damn mess. Chernobyl, of course, is also extremely polluted, but you could easily mistake it for a nature preserve if not for the “Warning! Radiation!” signs planted throughout the exclusion zone.
In other Chernobyl related news, the Ukrainian government signed a $600 million contract with the French company Novarka for the construction of a new shield to cover reactor four and the current dilapidated sarcophagus. Work is expected to start in October, with a targeted completion date of 2012. The EBRD is picking up most of the tab.

Source: BBC
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Top ten reasons why Houston is better than DC:
1. Abundance of cheap Mexican food
2. BBQ. Like, reeeeal BBQ.
3. Apparently you can surf in Galveston…sometimes. That’s what I’ve heard, anyways.
4. Average temperature for the month of December is 53.5ºF, which is still considered “flip-flop weather”. Washington, on the other hand, is 35.4ºF. (I’m from SoCal, OK? I can’t stand cold weather)
5. Number of self-important assholes is significantly lower
6. If you are stuck in a fire, these dudes rescue you
7. It’s a few hours closer to California (but Continental please bring back year-round service to Palm Springs!)
8. My SUV fits in very well. Actually, compared to everyone else’s vehicle, mine is small.
9. There are lots of parks and trees, and stuff.
10. Cost of living is ridiculously cheap compared to DC. A one bedroom apartment with all the amenities, located in a neighborhood where 14 year olds aren’t killing each other, costs less than what I pay now. Whoa.
I compiled this list last Sunday, on my return flight from IAH to DCA. Laura and I flew to Houston to visit Ann, who recently moved there to start a new job. I know what you’re thinking…”What the…who visits Houston for fun?” Well, I’m always looking to get away from DC as often as possible, and I had a great time last year when I traveled there for work and stayed over for a weekend with a former LSE classmate. So what the hell, why not visit again?
We went to Galveston. There are lots of oil rigs and stuff there, and really good peanut butter. I was, however, disappointed when I walked into a “surf shop” and there were NO SURFBOARDS. Huh.

Later that night we watched the Astros beat the Pirates at Minute Maid Park, which is still the most bizarre ballpark I’ve ever visited. Great chili cheese dogs, though.
So there’s this train, right? And when the Astros hit a home run it chugs down this length of track. Totally cute. I will not disclose which member of our group stated, “Ohhhh, I just realized why the train is filled with oranges.” One wonders what the train was filled with when the ballpark was named Enron Field. Probably cash stolen from the citizens of the Great State of California. But I digress…

Seventh inning stretch and sing along to Texas propaganda
I realize ice cream sundaes in mini helmets are for 5 year olds, but I can’t pass them up…come on, it’s ICE CREAM in a MINI HELMET, how effin’ sweet is that?! This is also the only photo you will ever see of two die hard Cardinals fans (Laura and Ann) wearing any sort of Astros gear.

We don’t have these signs at Angel stadium
On Sunday we met up with Cindy for some BBQ at Hickory Hollow. We were roommates back at GW, and she now works in The Woodlands (yeah, capital T or whatever, just like The George Washington University).

Yes, it was delicious

Me, Laura, Ann, Cindy
Overall, it was an incredibly relaxing weekend of baseball, reconnecting with old friends, and clogging my arteries with excellent food. I admit that I am still rather conflicted about the possibility of moving there, though. While I was waiting for my return flight to DC, my mom called me to see what I had been up to lately.
“Nothing much, just waiting for my flight back to DC.”
“Oh, that’s right, you’re in Houston. So are you going to move there?”
“I dunno, I don’t think so…I like it here a lot more than DC, but it’s not California, ya know.”
Then again, nothing ever will be.
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Unless ye be livin’ under a rock, ye should know ’tis International Talk Like a Pirate Day.
I been observin’ Talk Like a Pirate Day since I was a wee lass:
OK, I admit, it was Halloween…
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Painting my own toes tends to result in a bizarre Jackson Pollock like mess, so it’s nice to have someone paint them for me every once in awhile. When I was back home in California last month, I went to the usual place for a pedicure. I like going there – the manicurists are friendly and it’s well stocked with magazines you normally wouldn’t be caught dead reading (Enquirer) but somehow seem appropriate for when you are sitting in a comfortable chair soaking your feet in a mini jacuzzi. Also, no one talks about politics, just local gossip. It’s all very relaxing.
I become a little overwhelmed, however, when the pedicurist instructs me to pick a nail polish. There are literally hundreds of bottles lining the walls and I have a hard time differentiating between all the colors. WHY ARE THERE 123,897 SHADES OF PINK?! This time, though, it’s as if they knew I was coming. As I walked past the vast display of bottles, I noticed a familiar looking landmark.
“My God! Is that a bizarre cardboard replica of St. Basil’s Cathedral!? I must walk over and see what the hell is going on!”

I was transfixed
Apparently, OPI’s introduced a new line of Russian themed nail polish for Fall ‘07, featuring polishes such as:
Boris & Natasha
Siberian Nights
An affair in Red Square
Russian Navy
Vodka & Caviar
Rubble for your Thoughts
Catherine the Grape
Cosmo-not tonight honey!
Midnight in Moscow
Suzi Says Da!
Krème de la Kremlin
St. Petersburgundy
I was ecstatic – no longer did I have to stare at a wall of a thousand bottles, for surely my salvation was in this cardboard display of cliché names! Some political themed names would have been nice (i.e. “Bloody Bolshevik Revolution Red”, “Yeltsin Alcoholic Blush”, “Olive Drab Tank Crushing Democracy” or “Khodorkovsky’s Nationalized Black Gold”) but I imagine the OPI employee naming these wasn’t exactly a protégé of Zbigniew Brzezinski.
I narrowed my choices down to three colors: An affair in Red Square (”Fall in love with this romantic shimmering red”), Krème de la Kremlin (”A creamy terra cotta pink that’s the best!”), and St. Petersburgundy (”An aristocratic shade of claret”). In the end, I finally decided on Krème de la Kremlin, a lovely shade of pink that complemented my newly acquired tan.

The winner
The color works well, with the only downside being that I’m constantly reminded of Vladimir Putin when I look at my toes, and thus have an irresistible urge to issue phony environmental violations to foreign energy companies and crush anyone who opposes my political agenda. Now if you excuse me, I’m off to amazon.com to buy a lifetime supply of this stuff.
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Is “bloggiest” a word? Whatever.
“…with an average of 51 blog posts per 100,000 residents — D.C. ranks as the fourth “bloggiest” city in the U.S., behind Boston, Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, according to blog-tracker Outsidein.com.”
We’re behind Pittsburgh? Pittsburgh?! How is that possible? This city is full of government employees who do nothing but post to their blogs all day…
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One of my roommates from our sophomore year of college (’01-’02) posted an entry on her blog about our experience at GWU on 9/11/01.
“It helped a lot to be amongst friends, since none of us were able to be with family at this time.” Couldn’t agree more.
My post from last year on the same topic.
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Replace Al and Peg Bundy with Gena and Dasha Bukin and Chicago with Yekaterinburg and you have Счастливы вместе / Schastlivy Vmeste (Happy Together) one of the most popular sitcoms in Russia:
Turn on the sitcom that is the hottest television show in Russia, and it all seems so familiar. Moored to his living room couch is a shoe salesman who is more interested in watching sports than conjugal relations. His wife has shocking hair and an even more shocking mouth. A couple of ne’er-do-well teenagers round out this bawdy, bickering bunch.
In fact, the show is an authorized copy of the American sitcom “Married With Children,” with a Russian cast and dialogue but scripts that hew closely to those of the original. This knockoff is such a sensation, especially among younger viewers, that its actors have become household names, and advertisements for its new season are plastered around Moscow.
 
If you want to see how similar the American and Russian versions are, clips are available here, as well as on the NYTimes site.
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