Arunachal Pradesh is the least densely populated state in India. It is home to vast forests and many endemic animals and plants. China claims Arunachal Pradesh, but all other countries recognize this state as part of India. I am with an Indian wildlife filmmaker and two environmentalists on this one-week adventure. We are here to meet the Idu Mishmi people, and develop wildlife research in this area. As usual, I am interested in the birds, and their diseases. However, the most interesting research is how indigenous lands can be better protected by their people and traditions, rather than the government.  Right now, the Indian government is planning to build 17 dams for hydroelectric power. India sees the fast-flowing rivers and untouched lands as a source of energy. The problem is that all these dams will destroy pristine ecosystems and displace the indigenous people.

I fly with my companions to Dibrugarh in Assam, and then immediately drive to Roing in Arunachal Pradesh. The contrast between the two states is already stark. Assam is relatively crowded; not Delhi crowded, but still India. It takes 3 hours, and we cross the recently constructed bridge across the wide Brahmaputra river. The traffic thins out as soon as we get into Arunachal Pradesh. The people here speak the Idu Mishmi language, and maintain their traditions. They have different genetics, and if this were Europe, this land would certainly be a different country.

Roing is just below the foothills of the Himalayas. We spend one night at our local friend’s compound. We hear about how the beautiful lodge he had built in his indigenous lands was burned down on Christmas day. It took 3 years to build the structures that were meant for promoting research and protection of their forests. They were all burned down by an arsonist when the rangers were at a Christmas party. Conservationists invariably develop enemies. If we had been a few weeks earlier, we would have stayed at this place on the edge of the Dibang River, where the major dam will soon be built.

We leave the next morning for a 10-hour drive to Anini. The road is spectacular. It is one lane through awe-inspiring landscapes. It is only 220 km, but this is clearly not the German autobahn. We see how one car had fallen off the cliff. We stop every hour or so, and rotate positions in the car. Sometimes I sit in front, sometimes in the back. Along the way we see mithuns, the buffalo-like animal that is so important to their culture. They roam freely, but are owned by villagers, and given as gifts at weddings and other celebrations. The driver’s skills are amazing, and when we meet one of the few vehicles coming in the other direction, we have to somehow find a place where we can pass.  We stop at a couple small road stops along the cliffs for food; dal and rice for me.  I mainly eat dal and rice this week. 

We reach Anini when it is dark. The stars are burning bright in the black sky.  We unpack to stay in the guest house, again arranged by our friend in Roing. Here we sit around the traditional fire in the middle of the room, and speak for hours with other Idu Mishmi activists. They are fighting to prevent the dams. They are fighting to protect their lands. They are fighting to save the tigers. They are fighting to preserve their language and culture.

More driving the next day, to see where the region where one of the dams will be built. We also hike into the forest, and cross the river on a treacherous hanging bridge. Then in the evening, we move to the house of the local Shaman. We were expecting an old mystical character, but he is dressed in regular clothes. We meet him in his home, and again speak around the fire in the middle of the room. He tells us about the 76 verses that he recites in his ancient language at ceremonies, funerals and other gatherings. He speaks of the spirits of the nature: spirits of the animals, plants, wind, fire… It is a culture that is reminiscent of the native Americans’.  We also meet one local woman who is recording all these traditions and creating the first Idu Mishmi dictionary.  This shaman is training some students, she included, to be the next generation of shamans. But we all see the inherent problems. Hindi is dominating, and people are losing their mother tongue.  You can listen to a very interesting BBC podcast about the exact people we met.  https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/w3ct4pjp

The night is very cold, and I sleep under my sleeping bag and two heavy blankets. We wake up and drive to the Dree Valley, in the Dibang Valley Wildlife Sanctuary, one of the most spectacular places I have visited. It looks like Yosemite, with no people. There are waterfalls, and the precipitous mountains; some snow-capped. We hike to the Mawao waterall, and enjoy the views, all the time knowing that this place is threatened. It is just a few kilometers to the China border, and an Indian army base is under construction and the road has recently been paved. The views made all the driving worth it. The next day is the 10-hour return to Roing.

Then we go on a backpacking trip in the Elopa community conservation area (CCA). We drive across river beds in a very old 4WD vehicle, and then trek uphill for 3.5 hours. This is not an easy hike, but it is where our friend was born, and where he went to school as a child. Now this land is entirely protected by the clan, and there are no more villages.  People have left this forest and moved to Roing. This land is private and the government has no claims to it. Therefore, it can be preserved. We are hoping to see animals, but we don’t even see many birds. It is a quiet forest. We have a wonderful meal on wild banana leaves and sleep in our tents. In the night, it seems that the forest spirits surround us. 

The next morning, we look for serows, an endemic antelope-like animal. It is too windy, and they are not in their expected sunbathing spot. We hike out, and then drive to see the burned down compound. Finally, we visit the Dibang river, and see the dam-builders settlement under an orange hue sunset sky. This will all be hydroelectric power stations soon, and the dam will create a huge reservoir upstream.  It is a poignant moment, and we are all contemplative on our wild ride back, through a burning grass fires, and then rain. 

This one-week adventure again reminds me that we are so privileged in our rich countries. I remember the story of Hetch Hetchy in California, and how a beautiful Sierra valley was flooded. It is understandable but regrettable. I want to return here, and hopefully work with students to document the ecology of this understudied region. I am hoping to somehow contribute to the conservation of this magical place, that is still full of spirits.

Again, I find myself in Stockholm for the holidays. A beautiful white Christmas and nice times with my family.  I love Ice-skating and cross-country skiing in Stockholm, and seeing all the shoppers out at the big sales. It is so slippery outside that I had to buy the spikes that attach to my shoes like rubber galoshes.

It was another big travel year. Since the trip to the Democratic Republic of Congo this summer, this Ravinder body has also been to Greece, Sweden and Lithuania, California, then again to Sweden followed by New Hampshire.  Also Washington DC and Boulder Colorado.  I again have the flygskam, which is the word Swedes have for feeling guilty for contributing to climate change via flying too much. 

I am uploading some photos from 2023. Again, I am grateful for this wonderful life and all the opportunities and experiences that I have every day. 

I wish everyone much joy. We all have conflicts to endure, and it is part of human nature, but so is reflection and acceptance. In the end our goal is kindness and compassion to everything alive on this planet. 

Wishing anyone who reads this a wonderful Happy New Year 2024!

Ravinder

The DRC is vast with a colorful beauty. The majority of the people I met are wonderful, with an outlook of friendliness despite the desperate poverty. They invariably say Bonjour to me, and wave while we are driving by. The people I met laugh and tease each other and listen to the popular Congolese music. They dance. There is pride in being from the DRC. Then there is the rainforest, with its rivers and monkeys, birds and the elusive okapi. It seems magical. 

But there are the difficulties. Too numerous to put into words. Life is just hard here. The corruption and the general sense of helplessness makes it hard to be optimistic about the future of this country.

There are USAID signs in most of the villages along the road. A grant from the USAID is paying for my trip here, to study the biodiversity of birds in the forest and cocoa plantations. But the many USAID signs in the villages are all rusted and faded. The people live in mud houses that are all falling apart. The walls have holes in them. Hundreds of kilometers of villages along the road, all looking like each other. And hundreds of kids in each village. For every adult I see, there are maybe 5-10 children. Nothing is obvious about any help from any source. I see what the reality is now. The USA looks to be present and seemingly generous, but I suspect it is more to assert control of this region and all of its material wealth. The mines of gold and cobalt and the vast timber in the forests. This is what the USA wants, and they want it before the Chinese get it. So, they have Americans funding projects that lead to nowhere because of the incessant corruption. A few people get some money, and everyone else lives in hovels. There are some people from the rich countries who genuinely believe they can help, and they spend years here, but I believe the reality is that there are few success stories. 

Never did I once feel threatened. It is the myth of Africa. I don’t see guns, except in the hands of Ecoguards who are supposed to protect the rainforest from poachers and miners. My impression is that the myth is to make the DRC appear scary so that people don’t come here. So that people from the rich countries don’t feel as bad about exploiting the mineral wealth, and natural resources of this quixotic place. But these tactics will not go well in the future. The population is getting too large, and there will be millions of young people without any work soon. Right now, the government with its oppressive corrupt infrastructure has power, because people have nowhere else to turn. How can people make money other than by seeking bribes, going into the mines, or selling bushmeat? I met one Ecoguard and he told me that he is constantly struggling, and only god knows why he has 8 children. Religion is strong here and another means of controlling the population. It is all about control and oppression, either by the government, the military or the church.

This trip has been hard for me from the beginning, but I am overall glad I came to the DRC. People were worried about me getting kidnapped or getting sick, but I come out of this respecting this country and having even more empathy for the people and the nature of the region.

Some pointers for travelers to the DRC:

1. IN THE DRC MAKE SURE YOU HAVE BRAND NEW 100 DOLLAR NOTES.  THEY CAN NOT BE FROM THE 2009 SERIES, THEY MUST BE FROM THE 2013 OR LATER 2017 SERIES.  ALL US DOLLARS MUST BE PERFECT, AND THEY DON’T TAKE $1 BILLS, ONLY DENOMINATIONS OF $5 OR LARGER. 

I had known about having crisp brand new 100-dollar bills, but I had about $1000-worth were from the 2009 series, and nobody would accept them. In desperation, I went to a bank in Kisangani and was swiftly brought into the back, VIP room. I changed $800 of the 2009 series and got $720 of the 2017 series bills. They take 10%. Someone is getting rich off the rumor that the 2009 ones are not legal tender.

2. HAVE SOMEONE YOU TRUST HELP YOU AT THE AIRPORTS

I wrote about this in my previous blog installment. The airport in Kinshasa is small and chaotic, and Congo Airways apparently only has one airplane. For a city of 20 million inhabitants, I think there are probably fewer than 10 international flights a day.  The Goma airport is better, and by paying an agent, it went very smoothly.

3. IF TRAVELING BY ROAD, YOU WILL BE STOPPED AT CHECKPOINTS MANY TIMES. IT IS NOT THREATENING, BUT THEY WILL FIND REASONS TO EXTORT MONEY

I was with a university vehicle, and despite the logo and all the documents, we got stopped at every checkpoint. There are more than a dozen of them on the road east from Kisangani. They can ask for anything from a couple thousand francs, up to $50 ($1 = 2300 DRC Francs).  We had to give $20 several times.  There are only two legitimate checkpoints, the one 23 km outside of Kisangani, and another at the border with Ituri.  They checked my passport numerous times to see if I had a visa (as if I could get into this country without a visa!). In the log books, I saw plenty of Chinese and Kenyan travelers, but not one from the USA or Europe. 

4. MY T-MOBILE PLAN SEEMS TO WORK WELL IN THE DRC, BUT MAKE SURE TO CHOOSE VODACOM AS THE NETWORK CARRIER. 

My iPhone worked in Kinshasa and Kisangani and many villages along the road.  But it doesn’t work in Epulu unfortunately, where I am spending most of my time.  I could get emails and Whatsapp.  Now all I get are SMSs, nothing that requires data, but even in this remote place the T-mobile is more or less working.

Some of my adventures:

We expected the travel time between Kisangani and Epulu in the Okapi Reserve to be about 10 hours. We packed the Toyota Land Cruiser with our gear, 3 Cameroonian students from Buea, one student from Kisangani, the driver and myself. In the end, it took more than 25 hours and we stayed 2 nights along the road. The road is bad, and we got stuck several times. The checkpoints that I already mentioned are numerous and can take up to an hour at each one.  We made it about half way the first day. We stayed at a roadside Hotel Lala Sangama at km 211.  $5/night. It was not exactly a Hyatt. It is a concrete building with a disco light. This was the only place with a light on in the village. There were two little kittens at the hotel trying to stay in my room with me. The room had a mosquito net and a bed, and I managed to sleep. Toilet was a hole in the floor. I would have preferred my tent, but we didn’t want to unpack everything on the roof of the vehicle.

The next day, again driving from 6:30 until it started getting dark.  We were 24 km away from our destination, Epulu, when we got to a roadblock, a truck stuck in the mud on the road, and we couldn’t get past. Our one-eyed driver doesn’t like to drive at night, so we turned back to the nearest village and slept out again. This time I slept in one of the student’s tents, who had his in the car, and the others slept in the car, or else on a plastic tarp under a makeshift roof in the village.  We finally arrived in Epulu the next day, in the morning around 7 am. 

We arrived and our permit was still not approved. Our biggest problem was that the rules changed regarding permits. A new director general (DG) of the ICCN (the conservation agency of the DRC) had ordered that all research permits at protected sites have to be personally authorized by him in Kinshasa. This new rule came into effect just about a week before we left for this trip, so we couldn’t exactly change our plans. Everything was bought, the airplane tickets, and all the equipment. We took a chance, and hoped the permit would be approved by the time we got to the Okapi Reserve. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. We had to rely on the slow system of hierarchies to get this approval. In the end, we postponed our trip to the forest, and did our work in agricultural areas within the reserve, where we had permission to work. The project is to determine differences in biodiversity, and disease prevalence among the birds between the deep forest and the agricultural areas, so the work was something we had planned. We camped in Epulu and I befriended some local Mbuti pygmies and bought some of their tree bark artwork. I ate beans and rice at Mama Doudou’s little restaurant in the village. It took 9 days before the permit finally came through, and we could make our departure for the Mt. Sidha area, in the integral pristine part of the reserve. The permit actually arrived the day the Director General from Kinshasa was supposed to arrive. Nearly the whole Epulu village was waiting for him at the airstrip, women wearing their best outfits and makeup. They were prepared to sing and dance for the DG. But he didn’t show up, the weather in Goma was too bad for the flight. In this country, it is exceedingly difficult to plan things. Time is different, and it stands still very often. 

Finally, we left for the deep forest. This is a huge endeavor requiring many strong men to carry all the food and equipment for a team of 13 people. The men are powerful and don’t complain. We hired some Mbuti pygmy guys and they could carry as much as everyone else. No one has backpacks, they just carry the sacks hanging towards their backs from their foreheads. Two guys carried the heavy Action Packers full of our lab gear on their heads, for about 5 km, 3 miles. They all walked faster than I did, even though I just had my one little backpack.  I soon recognize that as a tall person, I bang my head several times on low trees. This must be the selection pressure for being a small person here in the rainforest. It is telling that all the porters carried all our stuff for 90 minutes to the camp site, for $7. People don’t have money. The two cooks get $7/day each. And they work hard, getting the wood and cooking two or three meals a day. It is mostly beans and rice, but one day they made me fufu with wild forest mushrooms in a tomato sauce. The best were the beignets that the cook made one day for breakfast, they take a flour dough and deep fry it into donuts. 

We get right to work. The guys clear the forest with their machetes and we set up 20 mist nets and move to a different site every two days. We work from 6 am until 12:30, and then move the nets to another site in the afternoon. We catch hundreds of birds and mosquitoes.  Most of the birds are familiar old friends that I have worked with many times earlier in Cameroon. Yellow-whiskered greenbul, Fire-crested Alethe, Olive sunbird. But we did find some endemics to this region. We band the birds, measure them, take a couple drops of blood and release them.

Every day dawn is at about 5:45 and dusk is about 18:15. The day I got lost: I went out as usual at 5:15 am to find a toilet spot with my headlamp. On the way back, I got totally lost; completely. After about 15 minutes of going back and forth in the dark, I started shouting out, WooHoo.  But no one answered. No one should make any noise because it is actually dangerous here with the miners and poachers. While we were there, an Ecoguard was killed in the north part of the forest, north of Epulu, probably by illegal miners. We were about 5 km south, but still this disturbed us and we had to be careful. So in the end, after about 30 minutes, the three Ecoguards followed my voice and quietly approached me and brought me back to the camp, which was actually not far at all. Later, another teammate got lost too. In the end, we developed a password system. The Ecoguard should call out Dime, and we should respond with Dina. No one got lost again.

I had a lot of alone time in my tent in this forest near the stream close to the inselberg Mt. Sidha. I heard chimpanzees. There were monkeys and turacos and other wild sounds during the day and the tree hyraxes make their haunting screams at night. No one ever sees the okapis, but we know they are out there because of the hidden cameras. The ants are a continuous nuisance and I get bit every day. One big one got into my tent and punctured a tiny hole in my Sea to Summit Comfort Plus mattress, so every few hours during the night I would have to blow it up again. Fortunately, not many human-biting mosquitoes. I loved listening to the sounds and seeing the big trees. My favorite part of the day was when I would bathe in the river. I usually did this alone, and just sat in the shallow cool stream and got clean and meditated on the richness of the forest.

Now it is time to leave. The trip was a success, we got a lot of samples.  But mainly I judge my success by realizing that the students are now better at this than I am. They are now the next leaders of conservation research in the region. I will fly from Epulu to Goma in a small plane, and then leave the DRC. I lost weight, and I look older with my grey beard. I will soon be in culture shock, back in the consumerism of the west. I vow to slow down some, be less attached to my phone and computer, and make more concerted efforts to protect these precious threatened rainforests of the DRC.

The Brussels airport is surprisingly un-special. I thought it would be a European High Commission-type of place, but it was more like a Cleveland feeling. I also think it is peculiar to have one terminal dedicated entirely to flights to and from Africa. I get out of my United flight from Chicago, and take the bus to the T-terminal along with all the Africans. On Brussels airlines, I sit next to the window in 22K, and one French speaking Congolese man sits next to me. Plane is full of crying kids. I sleep most of the way.

The DRC Congo, the heart of Africa, exploited and war-torn. What am I doing going to Kinshasa you may ask? Is it safe? Aren’t there diseases everywhere, like Ebola? Well, I have discovered that I am a relatively fear-free person, and that I know that people are human all over the world. There are dangerous places in San Francisco and even Stockholm. I love the rainforests and I love birds, and I love working with my students from Cameroon who are joining me. I am involved in a USAID funded project to study the biodiversity in shade-grown cocoa plantations. Do more trees help with biodiversity? And more in my specialty; do avian diseases differ between pristine and agricultural sites. In plantations, what kind of mosquitoes move in? There are all kinds of human diseases emerging on the planet, i.e. Covid, but we have to understand that equally devastating pathogens are haunting wildlife.

Kinshasa

I arrive, and first we have to take a bus off the plane. I never understand these busses, because it literally is like 100 meters to the terminal. We get off the bus and go through a warehouse where the people are squeezed through one small door, and supposed to show their covid documents. It looks like a makeshift hall with stacked chairs everywhere. Then we go into the terminal proper. The airport is very very small for a city of 15 million people.  Hardly any airplanes there at all. I go through immigration without any problem. Then I see the masses of people waiting for bags. It is so chaotic.  I only see one of my action packers, on the belt, which honestly moves too fast. Then finally a second one, and then my backpack, so I feel relieved. Finally, I have all my stuff. But no trolley to cart the 5 bags, more than 250 lbs (113 kilos). 3 action packers, one big Gregory backpack, and my North Face duffel bag. Everything for the field for one month, including my tent, all the equipment for birds and insects, and lab supplies. I see the guy from St. Anne’s procure hotel holding a sign written Mrs. Ravinder Sehgal. Isn’t this supposed to be a passenger area, how did he get in? The guys who cart my stuff on one trolley want $50 for putting it through the x-ray. I end up giving them $10.  Then the other guys who move my stuff to the minivan want $2 each, I give them $10 because that is all I have.  So, $20 to get out of the airport. 40-minute drive through Kinshasa. Loud wedding at the hotel, but I have ear plugs. I leave the 3 action packers in the reception desk. My students from Cameroon arrive at 2:30 am. It is a wonderful joyous reunion after several years. 

If you know me, you know that Ethiopian food is my favorite. So I convince my Cameroonian friends that we try to go to the Ethiopian restaurant in Kinshasa, which I found on Google. We take a taxi all the way to where it’s supposed to be, near the French embassy. But no one has heard of an Ethiopian restaurant. So we walk all around, and finally the 4 of us get on two scooters, 3 people per scooter including the driver, and they take us to the place where they sell crafts and artisan stuff. No Ethiopian restaurant is to be found. We are starving and decide to eat what they can give us. About 45 minutes later, I get some French fries and a little bit of salad, just the salad costs $5. They get two grilled chickens, which cost $13 each. The Cameroonians are surprised by the high prices, but they like the chicken. It is a place for tourists, and our meal ends up costing $56 for the food plus soft drinks. Definitely western prices. 

Then we take a taxi back, and start to go through the action packers. I am itching to see the Congo river, so I go for a walk, but all the areas near the river are fenced off with barbed wire. I can’t really see the river. Kinshasa is crowded with fancy shopping districts, and also poverty. Lots of traffic and lots of people.

To Kisangani.

Next morning, we leave the hotel at 5:30 am for the 8:45 am flight. Hundreds of people jogging on the highway dodging the cars early in the morning. The airport experience coming to Kinshasa was pretty easy. Traveling in the domestic terminal was completely different. Absolutely crazy. I haven’t experienced anything like this, except maybe Indian train stations years ago. It was so many people trying to get into the tiny terminal and chaos about getting the bags on the flight. Luckily, I am with some students from DRC. The process is like this, although this makes it seem easy:

(I include this information because I couldn’t find anything on the web about traveling domestically in the DRC)

Trust the hotel driver to do everything.  He has our passports and money.

1. He gets our Go Passes, $15 each.

2. He tries to get our bags in the line to get loaded on the plane. This takes more than an hour.  He takes my backpack and my carry-on, and I just hold onto the laptop. I am concerned because I have a lot of important stuff including money in the backpack. I just let it go. That is my fearlessness and trusting nature. This wouldn’t be easy for a lot of people. It is really chaotic. I try to take a photo but an undercover policeman takes my phone and tells me to erase it.

3. Finally we get our stuff weighed. I have to pay $108 in excess baggage fees. The driver pays that at a different office. DRC uses dollars for everything, hardly anyone uses DRC currency because it is so low in value. 

4. He gives us the boarding passes and passports back, just minutes before the plane is supposed to leave.

5. Immigration, where they ask for bribes (why do they need immigration if it is domestic?)

6. Covid vaccine documentation.

7. Security, where they ask for bribes. I didn’t give any money to these people.

8. Show Go Pass and boarding pass and get on the plane.

Plane flight is fine. Then upon landing in Kisangani, more chaos. The airport is small. Again, the buses, but I just walk to the terminal. First immigration, where a man writes my name in a book with my passport number and also looks at my university invitation. This takes about 30 minutes. I find out that the next day my Cameroonian students had to pay $30 for this step, but I was lucky and got out for free. Then the truck dumps all the luggage, and everyone has a free-for-all finding their stuff in a warehouse. Truck nearly running us over. Then show bag tags to the guy at the door, and carry all the stuff to the parking lot where the driver is waiting to take me to the Canon hotel. I wait 90 minutes for vegan spaghetti, then take a motorbike to see the Congo river, and then buy a pineapple (best sweetest ever) and some water. 

My main attitude here, act important and be confident. Then things happen.

Kisangani contrasts to Kinshasa because it has fewer cars. It is famous for its rapids and the way people catch fish. I like going around on the motorbikes and practicing my French. Not many birds here, but lots of posters of okapis, the elusive forest giraffes that are hidden in the forest we are about to visit.

Today I give a seminar at the University of Kisangani, and we will buy a month’s worth of food for the 5 of us. Then tomorrow we head out to the Okapi Reserve.  That is, if we get our final permit from the Director General in Kinshasa. In any case, we are going somewhere, to do some good science.  I will be camping in the rainforest for the next 3 weeks. My joy will be seeing the rainforest, in one of the few remaining pristine areas of Africa.

I had been dreaming of visiting Iguazu Falls in Brazil/Argentina ever since I was a kid. One of my mother’s closest friends who was from Argentina told me about these spectacular waterfalls and said I must visit. I have always been fascinated by fast moving water, and I love watching the water drop over the edge. Since I was flying to Brasilia to meet my colleagues at the University of Brasilia, and give some lectures, this was the perfect opportunity. It was a great spring break escape.

I left a very stormy San Francisco, and barely made my connection in Houston, but luckily the flight crew knew there were 22 of us on the flight that had to get to São Paulo, so the flight waited for us. São Paulo is very far away, and then it was another jump to Foz do Iguaçu. I had booked a hotel on the Argentina side, so I found an airport taxi that took me to the border, and then the driver’s friend met me at the other side and took me to the hotel. Super friendly. I can communicate in Spanish, but not Portuguese, so it was a little easier for me on the Argentina side. I arrived in the evening, and walked to the Tres Fronteras landmark, where one can see Brazil, and Paraguay across the river from Argentina. Warm air, lively people, kids playing in the fountains, and a harpist playing some mariachi influenced music. It was a good ending to a long trip.

The next morning, I found a charismatic driver who took me and two Chileans to the waterfalls. I was lucky and got a spot on the Gran Aventura boat ride that brings the tourists close to and into the falls. This was definitely a wetpoint of the trip, and my first view of the falls. Everyone screams and laughs when the boat goes under one of the smaller water chutes. It was also a nice bus ride through the forest. Then I took the park train to the Devils Throat walkway and saw the falls from very close. I stayed there for a long time simply watching all those H2O molecules drop 80 meters. 

The next day was a lot of exploring. The friendly driver took me to Paraguay to show me the huge dam, but unfortunately, we missed the bus tour. Instead, we had a vegan lunch at Loving Hut in Ciudad del Este in Paraguay. Then back to Brazil where I saw the falls from the other side. I recommend going to both sides if possible. Parque das Aves was also on my itinerary. It’s basically a nice zoo for birds of the Atlantic rainforest. I wasn’t fond of seeing two huge Harpy eagles in a relatively small enclosure. The space for the parrots and macaws was better. It is a nice opportunity to see these birds, and they really emphasize conservation. I just prefer seeing these animals in the wild, or not seeing them at all, knowing that they are safe in their native habitats. Zoos are a little tough for me.

After my three days in the Iguazu area, I got on a direct flight to Brasilia. My friends at the university had arranged everything for me. The last time I was here was just a few months before the pandemic, in November of 2019. This time all I had to do was show up and give some lectures and talk to the students and faculty. The first day was an all-day vegan Brazilian BBQ at the tennis club. Swimming and sun. I am so delighted to know these professors who have become my dear friends.  I would give some lectures in the morning and then have fun in the afternoons. The University of Brasilia is a large campus with thousands of students. They have an incredible vegan cafeteria called Utopia. The facilities are excellent, and I am impressed by the motivated students.

The next day was an expedition to the National Park of Brasilia and the surrounding areas. We were in search of the elusive tapirs and other mammals of the region. We didn’t find the tapirs, but we did find their footprints. We went swimming in the river and looked for birds. At this point, I was simply enjoying the nature and friendships. We went to Japa Vegana and had incredible vegan sushi and Japanese delicacies. Delicious food, good price. 

The days went quickly and were full of my lectures and discussions. My last full day, we visited the Botanical gardens and had another wonderful vegan meal at a new restaurant there. In the evening visited an exhibit of the optical illusionist Leandro Erlich and heard some choro music. I left Brasilia knowing that I would come back again. I love Brasilia and I could easily envision myself spending some time there as a visiting professor.

We all know that the forests of the world are being cut down at alarming rates. Deforestation contributes to climate change, loss of biodiversity, and new emerging diseases. I was fortunate to take advantage of my recent trip to India to visit a re-forestation project in Imphal, Manipur.  One man, Moirangthem Loiya, initiated a project 20 years ago to plant thousands of trees, and convert a barren hillside into a verdant subtropical rainforest. I had the honor of being able to visit this forest with the intention of beginning some scientific work there. I have been studying deforestation and avian diseases for a long time, but this will be an opportunity to explore how a new forest affects the birds and their parasites. Imphal is the capital of Manipur, near the border with Myanmar. The Meitei language is dominant and the place seems very far removed from mainland India. They use rupees, but otherwise, it seems like a very different country: there has been a movement for Manipur independence for many years. I got to taste foods of Manipur, and explore Imphal in a short but memorable trip. I met wonderful people, and gave a seminar at the university. My host was Sumanth Kuduvalli, an award-winning wildlife filmmaker. I planted a tree in my father’s memory and saw forests in different stages of reforestation. It is really time that I begin some work in India, and this is a project of optimism, where wildlife is coming back, and people are reversing humanity’s damage. India is now the country with the highest population. There is basically no space left, so any efforts to preserve nature are exceedingly important.

I was in India to attend a wedding, and also spend some time with relatives in Delhi and Goa. The wedding was an incredible Punjabi event, with live singers and dancer, plus of course vast amounts of delicious culinary delights. However, Delhi is smoggy and chaotic: this is raw humanity, a city of 33 million people struggling to mean something. Goa on the other hand was sublime.  Warm sea and sunsets. I hope to be back to India soon, I always feel surprisingly at home. 

Greetings to all my friends and family from Stockholm!  This year went quickly with a lot of traveling and a lot of adventures. Some of my favorite photos are in this blog. I got to spend a lot of time in Sweden/Europe for the first half of the year because of my sabbatical. Then in the fall I started teaching again at SFSU: Introductory Biology for more than 300 students. It was more work than I had imagined, since I had never taught it before. It was actually fun to re-learn material that I had not studied for more than 30 years. Photosynthesis and the Krebs cycle were in my mind again.

Research is going well too. We wrote a paper about a very interesting virus that infects malaria parasites. This will be a new line of research for my lab. I am also planning to do some work in the DRC Congo. That trip got postponed because of the unrest in the country, but I am preliminarily planning to get there this summer.  I will soon be in India, for a wedding, and then an exploration of a new project in Manipur. It is always so fulfilling to have these opportunities and I continue to be fortunate with my health and resources.

The world is plagued by many problems: especially concerning to me was the milestone of reaching 8 billion humans on the planet. I am hoping for a major shift in our thinking, but all of us are responsible for the planet. I can’t deny that I am a major contributor to climate change and I am a consumer.  It is hard to celebrate with so many troubles facing our species. But there is also a lot to be grateful for, and a lot of beauty in humanity and nature.  I wish you all a wonderful new year and happy holidays!

An amazing perk in my life is that my sister lives in Hawaii. And I got invited to visit for Thanksgiving! The flight was not cheap but still relatively affordable for the Thanksgiving break. After all the intercontinental flights I have been taking, 5 hours just doesn’t seem that long any more. I arrived Tuesday night and now it is Monday and I am flying back to SFO.

The first thing I notice when I land is the warm humid air. At the airport, there is a long open-air hallway and then the amnesty bin for fruits and vegetables before entering baggage claim. Visitors are not allowed to bring any produce to the islands, although at this point, I can’t imagine that a typical tourist would be carrying anything that wasn’t already here. The islands have been decimated by invasive pests, from microbes all the way up to pigs and trees. And everyone knows that the most invasive species is the human. Hawaii will never be like it was, but there are still some endemic species that have survived and conservation biologists are working very hard to preserve them.

My sister has two fun dogs that greet me as if I was their long-lost friend, every time they see me; first thing in the morning, or when I arrive at the front door. They always want to play and jump around. We went for walks and played catch at the Kailua Beach. I got to do a preemptive run around Diamondhead on Thanksgiving morning, before we had the huge meal, with many vegan options, including vegan stuffing, baked beans, mashed potatoes and vegan pumpkin pie. A big group of friends made for a memorable Thanksgiving.

The tourists have come back! Traffic is back to normal, and parking along the North Shore was definitely a challenge on this holiday weekend. I didn’t get to see any sea turtles, because the waves were huge and choppy. But still swimming in the warm ocean in November makes a trip to Hawaii so much more rejuvenating than staying in California, where the beaches can be warm, but the water is always too cold. Lying in the sun on a hot beach is my favorite pastime; perhaps my body needs more vitamin D. I can just lay there all day and not have to look at my phone or read a book. It just feels like an infusion of pleasure drugs to me.

Honolulu has become a foodie destination and I will just mention just one superb vegan option, Tane Japanese Izakaya. The food reminded me of Shizen in San Francisco, with creative sushi rolls, delicious ramen, and spicy brussels sprouts. I love it when I can go to a restaurant and eat everything on the menu and know it will all be delicious. I will definitely be back, to this restaurant and delightful Oahu. 

I don’t know exactly why I don’t post much to this blog these days. Well actually it turns out that after a year of sabbatical, and a long pandemic, returning to teaching and being at the university full time was – challenging.  This semester, I am co-teaching Introductory Biology, with more than 300 students, in the concert hall at SFSU, where once long time ago I did a piano recital for my 40^th birthday. I have new graduate students, and my lab is open again. Time seems to move faster, and I am constantly running faster to stay in the same place, like the Red Queen. But every moment is interesting and every day is full of people and ideas. The routines are starting to take hold, like going to the farmer’s market every Saturday, and playing my bassoon on Thursdays:  teaching MWF and meetings on Tuesdays or Thursdays. I like riding my Vespa around the city and I try to swim once a week. Eating delicious California vegan food and spending time with the people I love.

In the meantime, there has been quite some traveling. The year of sabbatical came to a close after spending more time in Sweden, and a quick visit to Norway. I started the semester and immediately turned around and went back to Europe, to the avian malaria conference in Bielefeld, Germany, and then a quick family weekend in Vilnius. I did my first 10-kilometer race, in Vilnius and returned to San Francisco with my legs still sore. I am uploading photos from these times, August-November 2022. 

San Francisco is truly a beautiful place in the fall, and often I remember why tourists come from all over the world to experience Northern California. Definitely there is a lot of tragedy in the city, and downtown the urban decay is particularly appalling. But there are birds and the warm sun that is so scarce in other parts of the world at this time of year. The laundry dries on the clothes line outside the kitchen door within a few hours. The Annas hummingbirds come to the red flowers on my deck and seemingly stare at me when I am eating my vegan almond yogurt. I wonder what kinds of foods we will have in the future. Will there be more amazing fruits available? 30 years ago, kiwis were so exotic. 15 years ago, vegan cheeses were disgusting, and now they are excellent. Things get better for the privileged, but they get worse for most of the 8 billion people on the planet. Yes, now there are 8 billion people on the planet.  When I was born there were about 3.5 billion. That’s a big difference, and we forget so quickly how life was before the population doubled. The traffic is bad everywhere now, the weather is weird everywhere now, the plastic is out of control everywhere now.

I was planning to travel to DRC Congo this winter to do some field work there, but the tragedy of that country engulfed by never-ending conflicts prohibited our travel. That, and the bureaucracy of paperwork. But it will happen, my life is prone to adventures.

I am writing this on a full Thanksgiving flight to Honolulu.   More photos and thoughts will be shared soon.   

I recovered quickly from the neck surgery, and I was back in Sweden. Summers are beautiful and days are long. It seems that most of the world is too hot, but not here; just perfect.  It was my first Midsommar celebration at Skansen, which is the festive outdoor museum in Stockholm. Thousands of people gathered to see the raising of the maypole and enjoy the longest day with music and picnics. It seemed that most people at Skansen were the new Swedes, in other words immigrants like me. I guess that the majority of Swedes celebrate this second biggest holiday (after Christmas) at their summer houses or with friends in the countryside or on the islands. It is a Swedish tradition to own a sommarstuga (summer house) in this part of the world. The immigrants have embraced the traditions of the country and learned the dances and songs, and Stockholm now seems just as diverse as San Francisco. I see people from all over the world. People celebrate Midsommar, and then in July the people of  Stockholm disappear. Here is an article describing the phenomenon in the Local, a Stockholm blog in English.

I also left Stockholm, first to Öland for a few days to see and work with the graduate students from Uppsala studying flycatchers. Öland is the long skinny island off the East Coast with plenty of tourists enjoying the long coastline, nice strawberries and patchy forests. The students are studying how these birds hybridize and how malaria parasites can affect their development. The northernmost part of the island features the towering lighthouse, and chilly but swimmable waters. Then north I was off to the north of Sweden (Norrland) to visit some friends in their summer home. Again, swimming, hiking and boat rides. Nothing compares to the Swedish summer, and on a warm day, there is no better place.

I also own a summer house, but it is in Vilnius. So, traveling to Lithuania was also a mandatory excursion. I found my little house lush with many flowers and a nice discovery of ripe black currents. The water in the river in front was warm swimming. I bought a new bed from Ikea to make it more comfortable. The Ukraine war is much more present in the minds of the Lithuanians. There are weekly protests in the main cathedral square, and near the city hall an art exhibition condemning Lukashenko. The city is usually full of tourists in the summer, but now, with covid and the war, the restaurants and stores are relatively empty. My mom got covid for a second time, but she is recovering well. I avoided it again somehow.

We saw the interesting Lithuanian Museum of Ethnocosmology, which looks like an odd spaceship in the middle of the fields. The tour highlighted the first Lithuanians in space (during the soviet times) and the first Lithuanian flag placed on the space station. 

Sabbatical is nearly over, and within a few weeks, I will be teaching again. I am just incredibly grateful for these opportunities to spend time with friends and family all over the world.

It is already May 2022, and the year has been going by very quickly. 

I am uploading photos of some fantastic adventures from this year.  After the new year and the trip to India, I was so fortunate to be able to visit Cambodia, and see the indescribable temples of Angkor Wat. There were very few tourists, so it made for a magical adventure; to walk around the ancient ruins practically alone. 

Then back in Europe, I was enjoying time with colleagues and students in the Dept. of Animal Ecology at Uppsala University. I also visited Gothenburg, Geneva, Paris and Vilnius. That is when I developed severe neck pain, so flew back to San Francisco for a surgery. I am nearly recovered now, but the incident cautioned me that perhaps I have been doing too much, and that my body needs some repose. 

The war in Ukraine also put things in perspective, as we struggle to comprehend that peace in Europe has been so precarious. I continue to learn that every day, we must be grateful for our opportunities and good health, friendships and family, and this beautiful planet we all live on. 

I started the New Year 2022 in India, the land of my father and his long line of Punjabi ancestors. Near Delhi is Greater Noida, where my uncle lives. It has become a land of immense towers, to house the millions of people that live in this metropolis. The architecture is innovative, but I know that in not too many years, these huge structures will be reminiscent of the Soviet housing blocks for the masses. Traffic is bad, but smog was not as toxic as I remember. Most importantly, it is wonderful to be with family, sharing stories and eating home cooked food. We visited the Okhla Bird Sanctuary, which is along the river, right besides the huge towers and busy roads. The birds somehow find this place and manage to survive in this crowded landscape.

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Sabbatical is treating me well. I don’t miss teaching on Zoom, and despite Covid, I have been able to travel; following all the regulations meticulously. Sweden is especially nice at Christmas time, we had a big Christmas tree that was particularly glittery this year. Traditional Lithuanian Kūčios featured plenty of delicious foods, and I got to play the Swedish Santa Claus, Jultomten, for the neighbors.  A highlight this year was attending Queen Sylvia’s birthday concert at Drottningholm on the 23^rd of December as the guest of a dear friend. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to meet her, as she and the king were high in the balcony, and the reception was canceled because of Covid, but the music and performance was incredibly memorable.

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Sweden is cold, and ice-skating was only bearable for about an hour at a time. I actually like the darkness, and I sleep better in the winter. We live near an excellent indoor swimming pool with a downstairs gym to keep me fit, and I still use my bicycle despite the freezing temperatures. 

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Now I am in Goa!  It is completely the opposite of Sweden, with bright colors and strong smells, short sleeves and shorts. I’ve learned to be very careful about what I check in with the suitcases. I forgot that my spare camera battery was inside the suitcase, and I had to remove it, after they called me downstairs to the luggage area. I am glad that the security is so tight, and flying feels perfectly safe. The beach is perfect, and the sun warms my Swedified skin.  Food is incredible and the water somehow lacks waves, so it feels like I am swimming in a saltwater perfectly temperatured expansive swimming pool. 

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I will be back in Stockholm soon, and participate in a mini-course at Uppsala University in the programming language R, I need to better my skills. From Goa, I wish you all a very happy continuation of 2022! 

I am on sabbatical again, just as I was when I started this blog in 2014. Because of the pandemic, it is a little harder to plan, but I do know that I won’t be teaching at SFSU until the fall of 2022.  I am so fortunate to have an incredible job where I have academic freedom and the ability to pursue the research of my choice, plus have this opportunity to explore myself and the world.

In Europe again, I spent some time at my little house in Vilnius, and then my birthday in Stockholm at the summer house of a close friend. When I think about global climate change, I recognize that these northern places are where it will be comfortable to live in the future. It was chilly and rainy in August, but that’s much better than being in the heatwaves of Southern Europe, or the crazy flooding that happened in Germany. I think any investments in Sweden or the Baltic countries will definitely turn out to be profitable in the future. Alaska would also be a good bet. With the temperature getting warmer, and the droughts in California, it is refreshing to have some water and moisture in my face. I didn’t get to swim in the lakes though; it was already too chilly. Overall, it is just relaxing to be in a place where it is not too crowded, the traffic is manageable, and the weather is not oppressive.

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I heard a couple nice baroque music concerts, one at a beautiful castle called Strömsholms Slott, but there is still some social distancing, and there are limits to the numbers of people that can be in the audience. But that is all going to change at the end of September, when Sweden completely opens up. No more limits, and I heard that Elton John will have a sold-out audience in Stockholm with thousands of fans. People are eager to return to the big arenas and not be afraid any more. The vaccine has been adopted quickly, but I do have some friends who were unvaccinated and ended up getting quite ill with Covid-19.

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I had never been hiking in the mountains of Northern Sweden. So, I with a couple friends set out for Helags Fjäll, near the border with Norway in Jämtland. It is a beautiful place, above the forests. Reindeer roam around, and there are houses of the Sami people. The shrubs and flowers don’t get tall, because there is a driving wind that blows everything away, and in the winter the snow is meters deep. We hiked from Ljungdalen, and spent two nights in tents. It was definitely cold and windy, and we cooked food and ate inside the tents. The day we hiked in was clear and sunny, but the day of the mountain ascent was cloudier. We decided to climb the nearly 2000-meter mountain in any case. There is no true trail, and we just climbed slowly first through the mushy wet shrubs, and then through the snow on all the rocks and boulders exposed from the southern-most glacier in Sweden.  It took a few hours to reach the clouds and then another half hour to get to the top. It was definitely worth it, just to have a goal and arrive. I had several layers on, and a pretty good wind jacket, but about 10 minutes at the top was enough. Climbing down was easier, and we followed the mountain streams sourced from the melting glacier. Overall it was 37 kilometers of hiking in 3 days. The Swedes love this mountain, and they have a small hostel where people can sleep and eat food that is flown in by helicopter twice a month. We were more adventurous and chose endure the wind and cold of the tents in nature. I would like to explore more of this region, and also go skiing here in the winter. There will be more adventures this year.

The world is open again. This morning at the Stockholm Arlanda airport, on my way back to San Francisco, I got stuck in a long line that nobody expected and almost missed my flight to Munich. Stockholm never really felt closed during the pandemic, but now the coronavirus is not even in the headlines. There is more discussion about the collapse of the ruling government, and whether housing should continue to be subsidized or float with the free market. People are shopping and with the warm weather, the holiday season is about to begin.

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Stockholm in June is long days, no darkness, green forest runs, lots of flowers, and initial dips into the refreshing lakes. I got to see some new places, for example the island of Oaxen, which was an important mining site in the last century, but is now a peaceful retreat with a bird sanctuary and quaint restaurants. Nyköping is another historical city, with a fortress and castle, plus a museum of Swedish culture, and more nature reserves. I am grateful for my friends who show me these beautiful places, and encourage my Swedishness. Stockholm is comfortable and I ride my bike around town, and run 5 km every morning in Lill-Jans forest across the street from home. I participate in the zoom meetings in the evenings, when people are getting up in California. I was elected to the board of our condominium association, and our focus this year is to get a chair elevator installed so my mom and others in the building can go up and down a little more easily. Our home at Lill-Jans Plan 4, is culturally marked, so renovations are tricky, albeit necessary. The garden has an old lilac tree that needs some care, and we are getting new chairs to make the dinners in the backyard even more quaint.

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The highpoint of this trip was visiting my new little house that I bought during the pandemic in Vilnius. My namukas (little house), is so cute, and is right on the bank of the river Neris, about a 20-minute drive from the center of the city. I had bought it “sight unseen”, and this was my first chance to see it in real life. A close friend who owns the property next door told me about it and I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I have some apple trees in my garden, and lots of wildflowers growing in the lawn. The best part is that the small river islands that I see from my front porch are a bird sanctuary, and the forest surrounding the area will never be cut down. The river is shallow at this spot, and perfectly warm for swimming. The mosquitoes come out in the evening, but I keep them away with some insect repellent. I slept in my little house, which is fully furnished with a sofa and mini-beds from the Soviet times. I have a spinning wheel and a samovar over the fireplace. I have some old dishes and a functioning electric refrigerator and stove. The water that flows into the little kitchen is from the river, so not drinkable, and the toilet will eventually need to be replaced, but everything is set up for me to live there. I want to build an outside shower. The long warm days make this summer home a perfect rustic getaway. Eventually I could simply disappear there for a while.

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Vilnius is missing the tourists, and the old town seems rather empty. But there is still life in this small country. There are new restaurants and it is clear that the economy is growing and people are living well. Lithuania has super-fast internet, and all kinds of online businesses. The population has shrunk, but I am sure people will come back soon. Prices are still a little lower than Stockholm, and somehow the two countries are very different despite their physical nearness. Vilnius has different fashions and an overall character that is not as cosmopolitan, but forward-looking in a different way. For the best TexMex tacos, with freshly made flour tortillas, go to my friend’s restaurant Donde.  Enjoy the black bread, and the best pickles at the farmers markets. It was midsummer, and we celebrated with a traditional Joninės bonfire; which was cut short by a huge thunderstorm and massive rainfall.

I have an unusal life, with homes in three countries. I am equally comfortable in each place, and I have people I love and miss when I am away. I am extremely fortunate to have this multi-cultural life, where my main problem is deciding where to spend my time. Now all I need is another home: in India…

As with everyone else on the planet, I am optimistic that 2021 will be much more fun than 2020. So many people have suffered due to the pandemic, and now we have the promise of effective vaccines. We also have a new president in the USA, and Brexit is finished: the media will change its focus from these tiresome stories. As I often do, I celebrated the New Year in Stockholm. The fireworks were festive as usual, and people gathered all around the city in groups with their champagne. I found Nosecco, alcohol-free champagne was pretty good. In Sweden, it is rare to see someone wearing a mask. People eat in restaurants, and go to shopping malls. But starting this week, masks will be required on public transport.  I have several friends who got sick with Covid-19, but luckily, they are all ok. 

I love Stockholm, but it certainly was dark this winter. There was not one hour of sun while I was there. It is a grey gloom. But on Christmas day, it actually snowed, bringing a fun atmosphere to the city. It melted the next day, but having snow on Christmas is magical. I got to run nearly every day in the forest by my mother’s home, and bicycle through the city. I saw an exhibit of the Swedish painter, John Bauer, who created a mystical world of illustrations of mythical creatures. But mostly it was a time to sit and enjoy time with family.  A big Christmas tree, and good food, plus vegan cookies made by my sister. 

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I am sitting at the airport in Frankfurt waiting for my flight back to San Francisco. People are all wearing masks and the mood is somber. I must say that I don’t mind traveling during the pandemic, because the trans-Atlantic flights are mostly empty.  But then I just read today that on a nearly empty flight between Dubai and New Zealand, 7 people were infected with Covid-19.  I will use that article for my upcoming course for the spring semester;  “Biology 425: Emerging Infectious Diseases”.   It will be a very interesting course this year. 

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Grants are due, and the year will be busy with work. I am just hopeful that music performances will begin again, and simple things like going to exercise classes at the gym will resume, as if nothing ever happened. 

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I wish all of my friends good health and a wonderful continuation of the New Year! 

How to avoid the drama of the US presidential elections? Vote, and then leave the country! During this pandemic, I can work from anywhere in the world since all my meetings and classes are online. I saw that flights to Costa Rica from San Francisco were $289 round trip on United! This was before Costa Rica was even open to citizens of California. But I bought the tickets anyway, because the number of COVID-19 cases were decreasing, and it seemed like a good bet. I was lucky because by November 1^st, all citizens of the world were welcome to Costa Rica – without a coronavirus test. At present, all that is required is Costa Rican health insurance which costs about $10/day. Costa Rica now is a paradise free of tourists, on sale!

But the rain was unreal. I have been in tropical rainstorms before, but nothing like this. In Drake Bay, it was incessant. This was the remains of hurricane Eta that hit the Caribbean side of Honduras and Nicaragua, but also led to huge tropical rainstorms in Costa Rica. It reminded me of the wet seasons in the Cameroonian rainforests, where I had spent weeks holed up in my tent. But this never stopped, so the first 5 days of the Costa Rican adventure were very soggy. Even so, it is always fun to swim in a warm ocean in the rain. And Corcovado National Park is an unspoiled rainforest, rich in bird species and so much wildlife. Even with this weather, it was a highpoint of the trip, with an adventure boat ride over the rough wavy seas. Usually I get terribly seasick, but maybe (hopefully) I have somehow overcome nausea at this point in my life. Our guide in the rainforest showed us how leaf cutter ants can bite through skin, and pointed out a tiny poison dart frog. The wild boars appeared and then quickly vanished, like forest ghosts. The large turkey-like curassows seemed fearless, and didn’t bother to try to avoid eye contact. There are few places on the planet as remote as Corcovado. It was the ideal place to forget about vote counts in Pennsylvania, and see how nature used to be, before human populations got out of control.

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We stayed at Casa el Tortugo, a charming family owned guest house/restaurant with clean rooms, great internet and simple yet delicious Costa Rican food. I ate a lot of beans and rice, but also a delicious plantain ceviche, accompanied by tropical fruit juices. On the flight to Drake, several Americans were finally returning to the USA after being stuck in Costa Rica for months during the pandemic lockdowns. We were the first tourists to visit Drake since the beginning of the pandemic. It felt special to be the only visitors in a town that typically draws thousands of American nature lovers. Even with the rain, it was somehow perfect. Sleeping with the sounds of waves and rain, after the smoky, hot dry, fiery months in California was nourishing to my skin and lungs.

Five days of downpours was enough, and next on the itinerary was Monteverde, but due to bad roads, that got canceled. Instead Arenal, with sun and hot springs seemed like the most reasonable choice for the remainder of the trip. A minivan picked us up, and transported us to La Fortuna, with a quick stop at an Israeli-owned vegan restaurant on the way. Again, with so few tourists, all the resorts were offering great rates. I have never stayed at a resort, because of the prohibitive costs, but Arenal Springs Resort was delightfully affordable: hot and cold thermal pools, and each room has a view of the impressively perfect shaped volcano. It seems that everyone in Costa Rica is friendly, and before the trip, I practiced my Spanish on Italki.com with a new online friend in San Jose.

What to do in La Fortuna? On Saturday, the 7^th of November, at the Fortuna Waterfall, I heard that Biden had won the election, and I swam in the chilly water at the base of the waterfall, enjoying the news. Horseback riding on the volcano among the lava rocks, a trip to Caño Negro at the Nicaraguan border to see birds and caimans, and then a tour of a chocolate farm rounded out the trip. Of course, I attended my Zoom meetings, and did some work in the sun. Will this be our future? Will the pandemic change how we work, and will we all want to move to Costa Rica? On the other hand, I don’t know if I will want to ever go back, because it felt so special to be greeted by the Ticos who missed the tourists, and be alone in this beauty. Costa Rica will be full again soon.

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I truly was nervous that Trump might win the election. Now I feel a little more relaxed returning to the USA. I have a special affinity for Kamala Harris, given that she and I are both half Indian, around the same age, and we both grew up in Northern California. I believe that her parents were at UC Berkeley at the same time that my father was a graduate student there, and I wonder if he had known her mother, given that there were so few Indians in Berkeley at that time. I may never know, but I like thinking that they had met each other. Costa Rica doesn’t have an army, and the government values its nature, broadly because ecotourism is such a huge contributor to the economy. Now with no tourists, people still seemed content. There are tropical fruits at hands reach everywhere, so I can’t imagine that anyone in this small country is hungry. Costa Rica showed me that people can be friendly and say “pura vida” which approximately means “no worries” continuously even during hard times. We in the USA and Europe could learn a lot from the people of Costa Rica. Pura vida! 

I had the opportunity through the Berkeley Symphony to introduce Rita Moreno reading “The Runaway Bunny”. I played parts of Bach Cello Suites on the bassoon, and introduced her delightful reading of this classic story. You can watch the video here.

Or you can find it from the Berkeley Symphony website.

https://www.berkeleysymphony.org/reading-is-instrumental/

Unfortunately, during this time of the Pandemic, there are not many opportunities to perform, and musical organizations need all the support they can get. I have been playing with the Berkeley Symphony for more than 20 years now, and I am confident that when we can all attend concerts again, the orchestra will flourish.

I first visited Geneva when I was 12, and I fell in love with the city. The fountain, Jet d’Eau, was immediately captivating, and I remember the flower clock and the mountains. Now I am fortunate to have my sister living here again, after being away for a long time in South Africa. The lake is warm and perfect for swimming. It is expensive here, and now the traffic in Geneva seems much worse, but overall, I still feel a strong affinity for Geneva.

For my birthday, we visited Annecy, a short drive away in France. This was my first time here; another beautiful city in the alps. Just walking around, finding a vegan restaurant, and swimming in the lake made it memorable. I am so privileged, and I feel somewhat ashamed to be experiencing these opportunities when so many people are suffering. Geneva is a wealthy part of the world, with villas overlooking the lake, and fancy watch ads plastering the airport walls. It is hard not to get caught up in it, and I recognize how easily people are manipulated to buy Rolexes by the incessant advertising, and our phones and our computers. I see the Mont Blanc, which has been inspiring awe in people for centuries and that’s enough.

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I had never been on such an empty flight in my whole life.  I got on the plane from Chicago to London, and I couldn’t believe it. I had one entire side of the airplane to myself.  On the other side, there was a Swedish family, and one American who was going to visit his girlfriend in Sweden. I think there were a few people in business class (why didn’t they upgrade me?).  But I had at least 30 rows to myself on this United flight. Needless to say, I slept fine, comfortably stretched out.  The first flight from SFO to Chicago was about half full.  Everyone wore masks. Then for the 5-hour wait at London Heathrow, I was surprised to hear mostly Swedish at the airport. It seemed that mostly Swedes are traveling. There were no restaurants open, just the newspaper shop and one pharmacy. This was traveling at its best; no lines for security.  But also, no one took my temperature, and there were no questions about whether I had been exposed to the virus. Eventually I got to the gate for the SAS flight to Stockholm.  That’s were all the people were. This flight was completely full with every seat was taken. I suffered on that flight in a middle seat, and with jet lag I fell asleep with my head leaning on the seat in front of me.  Again, everyone wore masks. If I were to get the virus, it would be on this flight. But I had been tested the day before I left, and I was careful throughout the trip.

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Sweden seems like a different planet. The stores are open, restaurants are open. Nobody wears masks. Traffic is busy and people take the subways. The shopping malls are crowded.  It is like going back to the times before the coronavirus, and it is refreshing. It is nice to not have people avoid me while I am walking on the sidewalk. It is so confusing, because there is a lot of misinformation out there about COVID-19, and it is hard to know whom to believe. As someone who studies the ecology of disease, I know that this virus can be dangerous, but I also know that most people don’t have it. This virus brings up a lot of strong feelings.  It has gotten tied up with politics and with economics. There is a lot of fear, and there is tragedy. I know friends here who have had the coronavirus: some who got sick, and others who didn’t. Sweden has taken a different route, but it is a route that basically would become inevitable for most countries. The reality is that shutting down society indefinitely is nearly impossible. Here people are cautious, and many people stay home, but it is not a requirement.  Sweden is a country known to take care of its citizens, and Swedes are now so surprised that they have gotten such a bad reputation. They can’t even travel to Norway or Denmark. My mind is not entirely clear on how this is unfolding, but at this particular time, I am proud to be a Swede.

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There are no summer performances, and movie theaters are closed. No concerts, but museums are open, and free. Buses are free, because we enter through the back, so there is no place to pay. Few people are on the buses anyway. This summer has been super warm, and the beaches in Stockholm are full with people swimming in the enticing clean water. Gyms are open, and I got my haircut as soon as I arrived. When I wear a mask in the supermarket, people avoid me, because they think I probably have the virus. The days are long and it never gets dark. But bars are mostly empty, and there were no big Midsommar parties.

The Apple store was the only place that required masks, which they provide.  It is an American experience, and they take your temperature before entering. But then the store is in a mall in Täby (suburb of Stockholm), and clearly you have to enter the Apple store from the mall, where no masks are required.  It seems illogical, as do so many things these days. Anders Tegnell is the state epidemiologist, and he is rational and informed, and in Sweden, more or less, people trust the government. So, Stockholm is not “normal”, but it is certainly more normal than anywhere else.

I have explored new areas in Stockholm. Right near our home is Stora Skuggan, which is a huge park that feels like being out in the countryside. I like to run there. Brunnsviken is the nearest place to swim, and the water has been so warm. I visit friends, and we have picnics in the sun, and swim. I had a rash on my arm, so I dropped into the doctor’s office, and she prescribed me a cream that I could pick up at any pharmacy in the whole country. Everything is coordinated in the system. There are very few unhoused people here. I am attaching a photo taken a few weeks ago of where I used to live in the Mission in San Francisco, as compared to where I live in Stockholm. And San Francisco is one of the richest cities in the world; something is dreadfully wrong. Sweden now has a population of about 30% immigrants. It is diverse, and it seems to work.

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A little art diversion: Milles Gården was exhibiting works of Toulouse-Lautrec and his contemporaries. Then in Djurgården, they’ve displayed the sculptures of Alice Aycock, looking like giant white metallic innerworkings of clocks. I eat lots of fresh Swedish strawberries and salads, and got takeaway from one of the better Thai restaurants. The truth is that stress levels are much lower in Sweden than the USA these days and I am hoping that the recent crises bring about big changes in America. It really is time.