Brooklyn in the late 1800s

So yeah, you’ve been to Brooklyn. Good for you. You got hyped up the first time you could tell your hip hop friends you saw where Jay-Z grew up. Or the first time you told your hipster friends you found your apartment in “East Williamsburg”…a.k.a. Bushwick. And the first time you told your baller friends that you shot hoops on Coney Island. But how many of you know anything of the origins of the place that’s pretty much synonymous with “cool” in popular culture today?

Welcome to Brookly—err—I mean, Breuckelen!

Yes, that’s right. The original Brooklyn was called exactly that, named after a small town in the Netherlands called Breukelen. Of course as with all of America, the land that the first Dutch settlers took over as their home was originally occupied by Indians—the Lenape tribe. But, as with most of this country’s history, we seem to choose to ignore them (I often wonder is it that we just don’t’ have any lasting records of their culture or we just don’t care to find and publicize them?).

Getting back to the Dutch colonization, Brooklyn’s first settlement was Gravesend (named after Gravenzande, Netherlands), which existed before there was even anything known as Brooklyn. The following year this was replaced by Brooklyn (which was in fact spelled “Breuckelen” back then), and within the next few decades, more of today’s neighborhoods started to be born—Flatbush, New Utrecht, Bushwick, and so on.

Downtown Brooklyn today

Brooklyn was actually an official town before the capital of the new colony across the river—New Amsterdam—which I’m sure you can deduce would become Manhattan. It wasn’t until the early 1800s that the urbanization of Brooklyn began, with the area that is today considered Downtown Brooklyn, immediately across the East River from Lower Manhattan. With reliable steam ferry service, Brooklyn Heights became a commuter town for Wall Street. Around the same time, the independent towns of Bushwick and Williamsburg were growing faster than they could handle, and thus they were soon incorporated into Brooklyn.

For most of that century, Brooklyn was an independently thriving seaport and manufacturing center, considered a twin city to Manhattan. They did not merge into what is today New York City until 1898.

Brooklyn Bridge today

No matter what your experience in Istanbul, whether it ranges from ancient sightseeing by day to futuristic clubbing by night, it is hard to spend a moment in this place without being enchanted by the history.

With a little help with our friends at the Kusadasi Tourism Board, we have compiled some little tidbits that you probably won’t be able to get out of your mind once you finally make it here.

1.  Istanbul is the only city in the world that spans two continents.
2. Forget Washington D.C. or Brussels. Istanbul has been the capital of three of the world’s great empires: Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman (the latter for more than 2000 years).
3. Turkey houses the world’s oldest known human settlement in Catalhoyuk, which dates back to 7500 BC.
4. More than 150 archaeological excavations are conducted in Turkey—every year.
5. Anatolia is the birthplace of St. Paul the Apostle, Herodotus (known as the father of history), King Midas and Omar the Poet. Furthermore, the names Paris, Philadelphia and Europe came from here.
6. It also began producing wine more than 6000 years ago, and hosted the world’s first known beauty contest, judged by Paris, with Aphrodite, Hera and Athena going up against each other.
7. Two of the seven wonders of the ancient world are here: The Mausoleum at Halicarnassus and the Temple of Artemis.
8. This is wear the Trojan Wars took place, in western Turkey. Yes, those Trojan wars.
9. The first church built by man is St. Peter’s Church in Antioch.
10. St. John, St. Nicholas, St. Paul and St. Peter all spent a time living in Southern Anatolia.
11.  The term “Veni, Vidi, Vici” (“I came, I saw, I conquered) was made famous by Julius Caesar here, when he defeated a strong kingdom along the Black Sea called Pontus.
12. Despite Turkey not being a highly Christian nation, St. Nicholas, who became Father Christmas, was born in Demre along the Mediterranean Coast.
13. Noah’s Ark landed here, on Mount Ararat (Agri Dagi) in Eastern Turkey.
14. Aesop, yes, the one from Aesop’s Fables, was born in Anatolia.
15. Legend has it that Turkey’s southwestern shore was a wedding gift that Mark Anthony gave to Cleopatra.
16. The Virgin Mary’s last home was in Selcuk, near Ephesus.
17. Homer, of the Iliad and the Odyssey, was born in Izmir along Turkey’s West Coast. Troy is depicted in his epic, the Iliad.
18. Leonardo da Vinci designed a bridge over the Bosphorus, connecting Asia and Europe, which was never built.
19. Alexander the Great conquered a large part of what is now Turkey, and cut the Gordion Knot in the Phrygian capital (Gordium) near present-day Ankara.
20. Suleyman the Magnificent, who would become known as the famous Ottoman Sultan, wrote over 3000 often politically charged poems here.

If you remember the Muppets growing up, you probably remember the (sadly not so) comedic Fozzie Bear doing his monologue on stage, laughing at his own jokes with his trademarked “waka waka waka!” and subsequently being pelted with tomatoes from every corner of the auditorium.

If these memories of your youth ever gave you the urge to chuck an over-ripe tomato at someone, well you’re in luck! On the last Wednesday of every August, in the town of Bunol, Spain, some 30,000 people gather to engage in the world’s largest food fight. More than 100 metric tons of tomatoes are thrown on this day, giving this otherwise quaint town of just 9,000 inhabitants a slimy, red-and-green bath.

While speculation abounds, in reality nobody is quite sure exactly how this festival, which first took place in the mid-1940s, came to be. Popular thought is that disgruntled residents attacked the local civic leaders with tomatoes during a town celebration. But other legends have also been told: a humble beginning as a food fight among friends, the spontaneous aftermath of an accidental lorry spillage, a class war among children, spectators of a carnival parade volleying tomatoes amongst each other across the parade route, and finally the Fozzie theory—a practical joke on a bad musician. Regardless of the origin, however, we do know that like the slimy residue participants end the day covered in, the idea stuck. It was, however, banned under the rule of Francisco Franco for not being a religious holiday, but was restored in the 1970s after he was ousted from power.

As the town’s population is more than quadrupled on this day, accommodations are limited—the majority of visitors commute from Valencia about 40km away. Local shopkeepers have managed to stay one step ahead of the game as well, covering their storefronts with huge plastic sheets to protect from the day’s carnage.

Enjoy a few photos of last year’s edition below, courtesy of AP/Alberto Saiz:

My ID: 26 December 1986 into San Francisco International

United Airlines (flight number unknown)

IDing into SFO

My Initial Descent into the West Coast came on a post-Christmas family vacation at the tender age of 7. We flew to San Francisco—my first long plane ride—and my first several hours on the West Coast were spent trying to make my ears un-pop from the airplane. I tried holding my breath, sneezing, chewing gum…nothing seemed to work.

A few hours after MyID; ears still clogged

Within a few hours, I had seen my first palm tree and my first sunset over a body of water. A few days later, we drove down the coast, and it was really the most beautiful site I had ever seen. Well, the train track that hugged the Pacific coastline, anyway. See, at that time I was fascinated by trains, planes, and little else. My only other recollection of that trip was that I apparently, according to the family albums, got in trouble in Knott’s Berry Farm for kicking Snoopy in the ass.

Getting disciplined by Snoopy

As far as cultural differences, well, it’s difficult to really evaluate that when you’re 7. Fortunately, I would have many other times to get back and learn about everything we plan to share with you in this space as we move forward.

All around the world, this weekend is one of celebration. But while most of the world dances the weekend away for Carnival, the town of Ivrea, at the base of the Alps in northern Italy, has a different method: pelting each other with oranges.

The annual Battle of the Oranges is the largest food fight in Italy–an organized battle of nine groups “competing” with each other by throwing oranges. Joey Phoenix of MyPublicHoliday.com has an excellent writeup of the battle, which I am showcasing below for you to enjoy.

The Battle of the Oranges get serious ’round here!

The Battle of the Oranges, Ivrea, Italy

(by Joey Phoenix; MyPublicHoliday.com)

In February of each year in the small town of Ivrea, in the north of Italy, something extraordinary happens. Corresponding with the end of the beautiful Italian Carnival season, an event occurs that leaves many people cowering in fear and stringing up nets to protect themselves. What is this that makes people so frightened that they hide in their homes, or so overwhelmed by temporary madness that they don masks and head into the fray?

It is a festival known as the Battle of the Oranges.

For weeks before the festival you can see thousands of crates being brought into the town center to be used in the events. Store owners and local businesses begin stringing up nets in order to protect their windows from the wayward throws of participants. Other bystanders purchase red scarves to wear around their head. This head garment is a symbol universally recognized as a protective measure, as the wearer of the red scarf does not wish to be struck by fruit.

Participants organize into a number of groups that war against each other in the town center during the battle. There are nine neighborhoods in Ivrea, and thus the teams are comprised of regions. Each participant pays €120 to enter, and this entry fee goes into the cleanup that occurs each night after the battle, readying it for the onslaught the following day.

For three days everything that moves, except those that are wearing red scarves (but even they are not impervious to the accidentally misguided orange), becomes a target for the Aranceri, or orange throwers. Brave men stand on top of carts, the less intrepid few duck behind them. But for this short period of time, the town center is a sea of orange as flying spherical fruits become projectiles. The event falls on the three days preceding Fat Tuesday. Although it is a fun celebration, it has a reputation for being slightly violent. Many of the group members wear masks to protect their head and faces. Coming out of the battle with a black eye or a broken nose is not an unlikely event.

The Battle of the Oranges has its origins in legend. Supposedly, the daughter of a miller named Violetta was once threatened with rape by a duke who was exercising his, at the time, legal rights over her. It was on Violetta’s wedding night to another man, but instead of surrendering herself to the brutal law, she decapitated the duke. Afterwards, the people, taking her defiance as a revolutionary symbol, charged the castle and established their liberation from their cruel overlords.

Each year, a young woman is elected to play the part of Violetta, and the people commemorate their freedom from the tyrants by becoming the Aranceri. These “orange handlers” are separated into two groups. The first of which become the “tyrants”, and stand in carts. The other half remain on foot, symbolizing the “revolutionaries.” The oranges are the weapons thrown back and forth. No one is quite certain as to where the usage of the orange originated, because they are not even grown indigenously. Some sources declare that the orange is meant to represent the decapitated head of the duke, or his removed testicles. But no one is quite certain. The original plant life thrown at tyrants were beans, as the poor serfs would throw them back at the lords who had given them the paltry vegetables.

Although spectators are not allowed to take part in the festivities, anyone from anywhere in the world can participate in the Battle of the Oranges as long as they pay the entry fee and aren’t afraid to get nailed by a few oranges. So, if you’re interested in the commemoration of a people declaring freedom, and the rising up of citizens against their cruel governments, then enter the Battaglia delle Arance. It is one of the only places in the world where you will have a legal right to throw large spherical fruits with astounding speed at perfect strangers. It’s not only legal, it’s encouraged.

In Ivrea, during the Battle of the Oranges, people completely lose themselves. It is a festival  that’s both dangerous and exciting – and everybody in the town comes out to watch.

Copenhagen’s own Little Mermaid

It is hard to believe that of all Denmark is known for and renowned for around the world, one of its most famous associations is with a bronze statue just over one meter tall. Yet The Little Mermaid statue, based on the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, has become synonymous with Copenhagen in the 100 years since it was first constructed in 1913.

The statue rests on a rock a few meters into Copenhagen’s harbour, just off the picturesque Langelinie Promenade. First unveiled on August 23, 1913, there it has remained with the exception of a six-month period in 2010, when the Copenhagen City Council decided (quizzically) to move the statue to Danish Pavilion at Expo 2010 in Shanghai. It was originally commissioned by Carl Jacobsen (son of the founder of Carlsberg), who was fascinated by a ballet about The Little Mermaid in Copenhagen’s Royal Theatre.  Edvard Eriksen was the sculptor, with Prima ballerina Ellen Price modeling for hi. But when she would not agree to model nude, his wife Eline stepped in.

The statue has become a mecca of sorts for political activists and vandals, prompting the city to consider moving it further into the harbour. We have compiled a list of the most memorable happenings involving The Little Mermaid over the past half-century:

• April 24, 1964:  The Mermaid’s head is sawn off and stolen by politically-oriented activists of the Situationist movement. It was never recovered, and a  new head was produced.

• July 22, 1984:  The statue’s right arm is sawn off, and returned two days later by two men.

• August 5, 1990:  Another attempt is made to saw off the head, unsuccessfully. An 18cm cut is left in the neck.

• January 6, 1998:  The statue is again decapitated, with the head being returned anonymously to a local television station and re-attached on February 4^th.

• September 10, 2003:  The statue is knocked off its base with explosives, and is later recovered in the harbour with holes in the Mermaid’s knee and wrist.

• December 16, 2004:  The Mermaid is dressed in a burqa as a statement against Turkey joining the European Union.

• March 8, 2006:  A dildo is attached to the Mermaid’s hand, green paint is dumped all over it, and the words “March 8” are written on her. March 8^th is International Women’s Day.

• May 20, 2007:  She is again draped in a Muslim dress and head scarf.

Which do you think is most creative?

Brazilian singer Kelly Key leading some Carnival festivities

Easily the most anticipated holiday of the year in Brasil, this weekend’s event basically shuts down the country (with the exception of shopping, carnival workers and tourism industries, as nearly 70% of the country’s visitors come this week). In Rio de Janeiro alone, nearly five million people will participate, including nearly 500,000 from abroad.

While the celebration before Lent is celebrated around the world, nobody does it quite like Brasil. Every major city will host massive parades led by samba schools—dance groups that spend the entire year practicing to compete against one another during Carnival—which are televised and watched by anyone who isn’t there. Smaller cities have their own parades in which anyone can participate, basically turning the entire town into a marching party. Everywhere you look, trios elétricos (trucks equipped with deafening sound systems that drive around blaring samba music) will be driving around, followed by a contingent of people dancing instinctively to the rhythms as if compelled by nature. People sing, people dance, people wear costumes, and people drink. Indeed, it is estimated that this weekend alone will account for nearly 80% of the country’s beer consumption for the entire year.

While the style of celebration varies place to place, the epic nature of each city’s celebration is consistent. In the Southeast (most notably Rio), the festivities are dominated by traditional forms of samba—the enredo, the embalo, the bloco and the marchinha. In the Northeast (most notably Bahia), people enjoy more Afro-Caribbean influenced styles: the frevo, the maracatu, samba-reggae and Axé music.

The thought of an entire nation dancing for an entire weekend is probably unfathomable to most, but once you’ve experienced a Brazilian Carnival, that view may chance. So if the thought of it intrigues you, grab your dancing shoes and let’s go!

Once upon a time, in the lovely Japanese village of Kyoto, an ogre dressed up in disguise and approached the home of an old widow. He had with him a magic mallet, and with it, he made a beautiful kimono—the most beautiful kimono she had ever seen. While she knew it was wrong, the beauty of the kimono got the best of her, and the widow decided she would steal the kimono. So she got the ogre drunk, making him lose his wits, and made her move on the kimono. Except that she didn’t stop with the kimono. Since that was so easy, she figured, why not go for the magic mallet also?

Surprised by the woman’s overzealous greed, the ogre got himself together, and then decided to shed his disguise to reveal what he really was. The old widow initially froze with fear, and then was overcome with hysteria. She grabbed the first thing she could find to start throwing at the ogre, a bunch of beans she had handy in the kitchen, and he fled. She didn’t get her kimono or magic mallet, but she learned learned an important lesson about greed, becoming healthier and wiser as a result of the ogre’s lesson.

And so a tradition began. The Bean Throwing Ceremony, or Setsubun, occurs every year in Japan on the day before Spring (Risshun). Throughout the country, people throw dried soybeans out their front door while chanting “Demons out! Luck in!” It is believed that these tossed beans purify the home by eliminating evil spirits. To bring the luck in, they then pick up and eat the exact number of beans to correspond with the person’s present age.

Bean throwing is the main event of Setsubun, but there are others as well. First, everyone will eat a special nori maki, or sushi roll, while facing a particular “lucky” direction, which varies year by year (last year was Southwest, this year is South-Southeast). To add to the fun, the person cannot say a word while eating the entire nori maki, which isn’t as easy as it may seem. In most cases, the roll is about 20 centimeters long, and think as well! But it is believed that those who complete this task are promised good luck with their business and health.

Getting ready for Setsubun in Tokyo…

A music festival that last the entire weekend? Check.

With musical acts from just about every continent on the globe, in every genre you can dream up? Check.

Where you can actually meet the artists? Check.

And even learn from them at workshops, where they’ll teach you some of their tricks and you can ask them questions? Check.

In a setting just steps from the sea at the edges of one of the world’s most beautiful tropical rainforests? Check.

You are probably thinking I’m making this up, but it really exists, in the form of the annual Rainforest World Music Festival. Taking place every summer (usually in July, although the 2013 edition will be the last weekend of June) at the Sarawak Cultural Village at the base of beautiful Mount Santubong, about 30 minutes from the city of Kuching, the festival has grown since its inception in 1997. While the first few years yielded audiences of around 400, the Sarawak Tourism Board has thrown its muscle behind it since then, and now the festival is attracting nearly 30,000 spectators from all around the world.

While the musical performances are scheduled for the evenings—Friday, Saturday and Sunday—the days are still packed. Just about every musical act takes part in a seminar, where they will demonstrate their craft in a more personal setting, including Q&A sessions and many opportunities for audience participation. The Sarawak Cultural Village is also teeming with interesting exhibits and vendors hawking souvenirs, tattoos, haircuts (featuring tribal shave patterns), food and drinks. Yes—despite Malaysia’s strict Muslim laws—the alcohol (most typically in the form of Heineken) flows freely here.

I had the good fortune to attend last year’s Rainforest World Music Festival, which featured artists from as far away as Scandinavia and Brazil. In the coming months in this space, I will be sharing several videos from the experience, both of the regular stage performances and behind the scenes with the artists, so stay tuned. In the meantime, enjoy some of the images below, which may still not even do proper justice to the fun and excitement RWMF represents.

In case you are interested, the 2013 rendition will take place from June 28-30, with more information available here.

Huge crowds at last year’s Rainforest World Music Festival

Rocking with Cankisou from the Czech Republic

Sarawak’s own Zee Avi

Brazil’s Raiz de Cafezal on stage…

…and at a workshop

Another workshop, this time featuring the String Sisters from Scandinavia and the USA

A little rain didn’t stop the fun

My ID:  8:05am, Saturday, 09 May 2009:  Muscat Seeb International Airport

Oman Air flight WY602 from Dubai

Coming from the hustling, bustling, steel-and-glass metropolis of Dubai, my Initial Descent into Oman had me expecting more of the same. Sure, I had heard that Oman seemed to preserve more of its traditional heritage than its more famous neighbor to the north, but given that Muscat’s arrival onto the international scene along with the rest of the major cities in the Gulf region, I was skeptical.

From the design of the airport itself to the slower pace of the immigration and Arrivals halls, I immediately understood that this wasn’t the same as Bahrain, Dubai, or even Doha. This place indeed marched to its own rhythm, and I was going to enjoy it.

Muscat Seeb International Airport

Even the ride into town was different. There didn’t seem to be the maddening traffic prevalent in the other cities here. There were surely signs of Western influence—your occasional American restaurant chain or hotel—but it seemed more understated and subtle. Upon landing in my fifth city in the Middle East, I finally felt as though I was really in this part of the world.

Traffic isn’t a problem here–yet, at least