tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-364421952024-03-13T13:41:17.431+02:00ChroniclesVanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.comBlogger85125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-54556151144469819232013-06-08T05:18:00.002+03:002013-06-08T05:18:45.142+03:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Come and see Travis's pipes tomorrow at the Indieana Handicraft Exchange! Event runs noon to 8pm. 1505 North Delaware St., Indy.<br />
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Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-59426476131708281452013-06-01T03:37:00.000+03:002013-06-01T03:37:02.639+03:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Welcome to our new season of posting! If you found us through Travis's COTA blog, thank you for staying with us. We hope to be more active in posting, although life post-travel and post-transplant has quieted some. Still, we'll be here. Please choose to follow this blog. Travis's online donation page will continue to stay active through COTA at <a href="http://cota.donorpages.com/PatientOnlineDonation/COTAforTravisV/">http://cota.donorpages.com/PatientOnlineDonation/COTAforTravisV/</a> or through doing a patient search at www.cota.org.<br />
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We'll post material related to Travis's transplant, but also just about life here in Indianapolis, Indiana. We love it here and would love to share about it.<br />
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More to come...<br />
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Travis and Amy</div>
Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-84927970665828711182009-03-25T22:04:00.024+02:002010-11-19T16:52:43.094+02:00Balkan Trip, Spring Break, March 2009: Montenegro, Croatia, and BosniaAfter school on Thursday, March 19th, we pack up our rental car with friends Doug and Mary Jo and hit the road. That night's destination is <span style="color:#990000;">Budva, Montenegro</span>, where we stay at the same home of private apartments as we did two spring breaks ago (see earlier posts). After a yummy seafood dinner in the old town and a warm bed we wake up the next morning and continue on up the coast. The day is absolutely frigid, with freezing rain and wind that blows our umbrellas out, so we don't linger long in <span style="color:#990000;">Kotor </span>(again, see earlier posts) but decide to keep driving. The clouds eventually lift some, and we stop to take in the breathtaking views in the <span style="color:#990000;">Bay of Kotorska.</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317422592860559682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctHrOAXGUI/AAAAAAAAAX8/KFwWzqQzJQw/s320/Gospa+od+Skrpjela.JPG" /></p><p>The first tiny island behind us (above) is home to the <span style="color:#990000;">Benedictine Monastery of St. George</span>, where many sea captains have found their eternal homes. The islet to the right of that holds "<span style="color:#990000;">Our Lady of the Rock</span>", a little chapel from the early 1600's dedicated to the virgin Mary. The island itself is man-made out of the carcasses of old ships, and is reinforced with stone.</p><p>Next destination: <span style="color:#990000;">Dubrovnik, Croatia</span>. We follow the coast road but then veer off towards the mountains. After about an hour of driving the road begins to narrow and we begin to question our navigational skills. I had always heard the road to Dubrovnik is wide and welcoming and the road we are on is anything but that. We continue driving until we hit snow. It's time to turn around. Here, Travis speaks for us all: </p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317425482474088658" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctKTap6aNI/AAAAAAAAAYE/S-jOF0pP0-c/s320/I+give+up.JPG" /> Back down the mountain, we hug the coast road until the border of Montenegro and Croatia. We leave Montenegro, stamped and ready for the next country, but are told at the Croatia border we can't enter without the proper insurance card for our car. We must have a "Green Card", the card we have isn't good enough for them. We are told to wait two hours for the lady to come, take our 75 euros, and issue us the proper card. We're hungry. In hopes that she will wait for us, we turn around to seek food back in Montenegro. At that border, we are told again we can't enter due to lack of sacred "green card". But we just came from Montenegro! we tell them. A kind English-speaking tour guide works it out for us and we're allowed passage. When we finally return to the Croatian border, the lady is there, takes only 65 euros, and we break on through to the other side, heading for Dubrovnik.<br /><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">DUBROVNIK</span>: The view of the old town was more than could be imagined or captured by any old photo:<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctOZZ-zGNI/AAAAAAAAAYM/oE5md4HyHzM/s1600-h/view+coming+in.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317429983418980562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctOZZ-zGNI/AAAAAAAAAYM/oE5md4HyHzM/s320/view+coming+in.JPG" /></a> <img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317429987898545522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctOZqqz1XI/AAAAAAAAAYU/xfS9KQCaJUA/s320/closer+view+coming+in.JPG" /><br /></p><br />What is incredible to me is how the old city of <span style="color:#990000;">Dubrovnik</span> is still standing, all fortified, staunchly standing against time and war and modernity. Not that it hasn't been affected in some way by all three, but it truly is a visit back in time, despite all the tourist shops, cafes, and cozy restaurants. Below are views from on top of the city walls: </div><div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctTglUCs5I/AAAAAAAAAYc/xSSEcvras4g/s1600-h/Rooftop+view+from+wall.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317435604278096786" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctTglUCs5I/AAAAAAAAAYc/xSSEcvras4g/s320/Rooftop+view+from+wall.JPG" /></a> <img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317435614633454610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctThL487BI/AAAAAAAAAYs/AovzBaztqis/s320/Wall+Tower.JPG" /><br /><p align="left"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctTgztQU6I/AAAAAAAAAYk/4VnebMGvEMM/s1600-h/Hill+Fortress.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317435608141943714" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctTgztQU6I/AAAAAAAAAYk/4VnebMGvEMM/s320/Hill+Fortress.JPG" /></a></p><div>One of the highlights is getting to see Angie and her group of IU students! We hang out with them some in the old city, and then go with Doug and Mary Jo for a cozy seafood lunch.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctVa04qXRI/AAAAAAAAAY0/BlKSqIS-6EM/s1600-h/Angie+and+Amy.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317437704402263314" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctVa04qXRI/AAAAAAAAAY0/BlKSqIS-6EM/s320/Angie+and+Amy.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctVbnoKvrI/AAAAAAAAAY8/WkG1ok-Uqvw/s1600-h/four+of+us+in+old+city.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317437718023290546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctVbnoKvrI/AAAAAAAAAY8/WkG1ok-Uqvw/s320/four+of+us+in+old+city.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>After lunch we head back up the coast toward <span style="color:#990000;">Split, Croatia</span><span style="color:#000000;">, a large seaside town on the Adriatric with a charming old city. It is dark when we arrive so we hook up with a nice man renting out rooms in his home. We turn on the heat and head out for a short walk towards "the best restaurant in town" we are told. Some of us aren't so hungry and decide to get the soup. It is a cup of broth. Amy loves her pasta though. </span></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>In the morning we head to the old town and have coffee and pastries in the sunshine in a lovely piazza. Travis makes some friends.<br /></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScteX-1ih_I/AAAAAAAAAZc/vgvpCJboTcQ/s1600-h/amy+in+piazza.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317447551138564082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScteX-1ih_I/AAAAAAAAAZc/vgvpCJboTcQ/s320/amy+in+piazza.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScteX3VsheI/AAAAAAAAAZU/SEFOWTPRg_o/s1600-h/pigeon+sitting.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317447549125952994" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScteX3VsheI/AAAAAAAAAZU/SEFOWTPRg_o/s320/pigeon+sitting.JPG" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>Next we stroll around the outside remnants of <span style="color:#990000;">Diocletian's Palace</span>, the palace where a famous Roman emperorer retired. He was known for his intense persecution of Christians. Ironically, the mausoleum built for him has been turned into a Christian cathedral. Weird. Mass was going on so we only peek inside the doors. I (Amy) love how the hotels, cafes and shops flowed through and around the palace; the union of old and new. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Sctcv5cShxI/AAAAAAAAAZE/YiqRP8TWPmA/s1600-h/T+and+A+mausoleum.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317445762984085266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Sctcv5cShxI/AAAAAAAAAZE/YiqRP8TWPmA/s320/T+and+A+mausoleum.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Sctcwevgm3I/AAAAAAAAAZM/EVfGrcmsoZw/s1600-h/walk+through+palace.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317445772996811634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Sctcwevgm3I/AAAAAAAAAZM/EVfGrcmsoZw/s320/walk+through+palace.JPG" /></a><br /><br />From Split it is onto Bosnia, the highlight of our trip. On the way out of Croatia, we stop in the mountains for a quick lunch of 1/2 kilo of lamb, green salad, and more broth and bread. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Sctf4g14PpI/AAAAAAAAAZk/Fe-WQAN2i1M/s1600-h/DSC_0124.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317449209534234258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Sctf4g14PpI/AAAAAAAAAZk/Fe-WQAN2i1M/s320/DSC_0124.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Sctf5GHPDwI/AAAAAAAAAZs/k_mTE6himAE/s1600-h/DSC_0125.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317449219539144450" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Sctf5GHPDwI/AAAAAAAAAZs/k_mTE6himAE/s320/DSC_0125.JPG" /></a> </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>The drive through tunnels cutting into mountains and tiny Bosnian towns is filled with the anticipation of the history and beauty we will encounter, and when we reach the exquisite old town of <span style="color:#990000;">Mostar, Bosnia</span>, that anticipation is fully realized. Mostar was hit pretty hard during the war in the early nineties, and it's claim to fame, an old Ottoman bridge (Mostar means "old bridge"), was completely destroyed. Many of the buildings in the old and new towns are riddled with bullet holes and shelling, which makes this town sobering, but unforgettable. There is a charm and energy however that is alluring, and makes it hard to leave.<br /></div><div><br /></div><p align="left"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctjL7XoM5I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/N59le2287Ko/s1600-h/menorah+and+bullets.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317452841607508882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SctjL7XoM5I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/N59le2287Ko/s320/menorah+and+bullets.JPG" /></a></p><div>The old city in <span style="color:#990000;">Mostar</span> and the famous bridge and walking streets:<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuEC9IxnvI/AAAAAAAAAaE/csUC5gDoBFw/s1600-h/items+and+bridge.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317488971346976498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuEC9IxnvI/AAAAAAAAAaE/csUC5gDoBFw/s320/items+and+bridge.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuEDJZOZvI/AAAAAAAAAaM/d8k3tSl-kZQ/s1600-h/walking+street.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 213px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317488974637197042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuEDJZOZvI/AAAAAAAAAaM/d8k3tSl-kZQ/s320/walking+street.JPG" /></a></div><div></div><div>That afternoon we drive onto <span style="color:#990000;">Sarajevo</span>, arriving around 8:30 at night. We had lingered longer in Mostar than had planned and had decided to forego meeting our Sarajevo friends at a meeting place and just try to find their house on our own. We must have asked 15 people and turned around a multitude of times before we end up at the house. Our friends give us a graciously warm welcome despite our lateness, feed us, and put us to sleep. The next morning, we visit the international school where our friends work and then head to the old town. Again, there are many reminders of the war along the way:<br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuM_VCrWlI/AAAAAAAAAak/bYtKLHaBd4Y/s1600-h/asking+directions.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317498804649024082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuM_VCrWlI/AAAAAAAAAak/bYtKLHaBd4Y/s320/asking+directions.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuK3antiOI/AAAAAAAAAaU/vv5nc842sDI/s1600-h/bullet+holes+in+apt+building.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317496469684324578" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuK3antiOI/AAAAAAAAAaU/vv5nc842sDI/s320/bullet+holes+in+apt+building.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /><br /></div><p align="left"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuK3qndSuI/AAAAAAAAAac/-FAVVPbDN3c/s1600-h/graves+at+Kosevo.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317496473978227426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuK3qndSuI/AAAAAAAAAac/-FAVVPbDN3c/s320/graves+at+Kosevo.JPG" /></a></p><div>To me (Amy) the city of<span style="color:#990000;"> Sarajevo</span> feels somber and quiet, despite the traffic and crowds of people, but maybe that is me transferring my own mood, my own feelings of its history onto the city itself. And then again, the weather is gray. I like that people just go about their business; not hassling you in the old town shops...the shopkeepers are simply there, friendly and available. The shop and cafe-lined cobblestone streets are beautiful. </div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPEdd4IgI/AAAAAAAAAas/JpWYDAasqRk/s1600-h/sarajevo+walking+street.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317501091833192962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPEdd4IgI/AAAAAAAAAas/JpWYDAasqRk/s320/sarajevo+walking+street.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPE6U7hsI/AAAAAAAAAa8/-bL7DqJXYuc/s1600-h/handshake.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317501099580294850" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPE6U7hsI/AAAAAAAAAa8/-bL7DqJXYuc/s320/handshake.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 213px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317501112858647570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPFryvHBI/AAAAAAAAAbM/h8YkR9qVNCc/s320/mosque+with+pigeons.JPG" /> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPEnXomtI/AAAAAAAAAa0/QFSDxHGK2Hk/s1600-h/T+and+A+shopping.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 213px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317501094491364050" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPEnXomtI/AAAAAAAAAa0/QFSDxHGK2Hk/s320/T+and+A+shopping.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPFalQqdI/AAAAAAAAAbE/J41EwoNoC9E/s1600-h/girl+peeking+through+bars.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 213px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317501108238723538" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuPFalQqdI/AAAAAAAAAbE/J41EwoNoC9E/s320/girl+peeking+through+bars.JPG" /></a><br /><br /></div><div></div><div align="center">I could spend days in this city.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">But it is time to head home. </div><div><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div>We leave <span style="color:#990000;">Sarajevo</span> after lunch on Monday and drive straight through the night until we reach Tirana. I don't know what we are thinking, I guess the trip is just over. 13 hours through dark and windy mountain roads and cities with names written only in cyrilic (good thing Travis and I can read them!). By the looks of things, we could be anywhere. We could be in Ohio. I keep reminding everyone in the car that we are in Bosnia. <em>Hey guys, we're driving through the mountains in Bosnia. Hey guys, we just spent the night in Sarajevo.</em> On one of these roads, just at dusk, a castle, looming on a far away rock, comes into view and reminds us that we are not, in fact, in Ohio. We are in the Balkans. A lone man stands at the top of this castle and stretches, looking out toward the sunset, king of the world.</div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuT-XzlnXI/AAAAAAAAAbU/9AgdEU29tTo/s1600-h/man+on+castle.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317506484792565106" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/ScuT-XzlnXI/AAAAAAAAAbU/9AgdEU29tTo/s320/man+on+castle.JPG" /></a></p></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-69656232596485231452008-10-19T15:29:00.005+03:002009-03-26T20:21:28.116+02:00Spoils of the DayWhat you see in the picture below is one of the top reasons we live in Albania. Fresh fruits and vegetables, all for less than 20 bucks (minus the gourds). One of our favorite places to shop is called the "Electric Market", where you can find a slew of hardware shops, but also lining the sidewalks are many vendors selling their finest from their gardens. Some run large produce stands, others just bring whatever they can get from their own backyards, even if it's just a few bunches of grapes. The gourd guy had his car piled high with the gourds. Now we just need you to come over and help us eat it all.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258844444330531746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPsrKNlbm6I/AAAAAAAAAUk/cZxrTiNDcS0/s320/DSC_0002.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258844448694500162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPsrKd14e0I/AAAAAAAAAUs/ckQnH5HyUUY/s320/DSC01674.JPG" border="0" />Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-2365329679920772442008-10-19T11:15:00.004+03:002008-10-19T11:29:12.062+03:00Albanian WeddingLast night we had the pleasure of attending our first Albanian wedding. The daughter of one of our guard's at the school was the honored bride. As we understand it, these things start around Wednesday or Thursday and end on a Monday. There's no official ceremony, just a lot of partying, though the couple eventually goes downtown and makes it legal at some point. Apparently, Thursday is a time for guests to visit the bride only at her parent's home. She puts on her wedding dress and sits around while guests come and give her gifts and the bride's family in turn serves little chocolates or candies and drinks. Friday is a "day off" and then Saturday (the event we attended) is the bride's party. It began around 8:00pm, but we came with some of our Albanian friends around quarter till 9. The groom wasn't there yet. He was scheduled to arrive with his family about two to three hours later (at which time the bride changed into a second wedding dress). We had wine, appetizers, a beginning course of meats and cheeses, and then a larger meal of two steaks and french fries. That course came around 11pm and we left a little after midnight, so we don't know what came after that, but we heard there were still more courses coming. It was a fun night full of dancing to Albanian music and a little Spanish music. And the wedding party does it all over again the next night, only this time it's the groom's turn. He has a dinner and then the bride shows up late with her family. Then on Monday, the groom's party comes and gets the bride and whisks her away to her new home. Below: Bride and groom; Bride with girl in traditional Albanian dress; Mother-of-the-bride with friends of ours dancing ; The spread; More Dancing.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258776081092139266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrs-8rRWQI/AAAAAAAAAT8/ULzmbsOqr9I/s320/DSC_0085.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258776084242638722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrs_IaaJ4I/AAAAAAAAAUE/WmMEbBMX_pU/s320/DSC_0013.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258776088573765458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrs_YjB51I/AAAAAAAAAUM/3N02Cyn86_M/s320/DSC_0025.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258776092906138930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrs_or8rTI/AAAAAAAAAUU/q0XkN5nGnVg/s320/DSC_0036.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258776097951655426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrs_7e5JgI/AAAAAAAAAUc/065XIcjVE2E/s320/DSC_0048.JPG" border="0" />Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-59905789973110837342008-10-19T10:34:00.005+03:002008-10-19T11:20:59.804+03:00Below: Bride's friends, restaurant workers, Travis and dancers.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258775305104489106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrsRx5ZepI/AAAAAAAAATk/BUqbkDxXesI/s320/DSC_0070.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258775316368669394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrsSb2_OtI/AAAAAAAAATs/6mM5bCBtD4o/s320/DSC_0003.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258775319134035458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrsSmKTXgI/AAAAAAAAAT0/fXUfCrfZomc/s320/DSC_0088.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrryBNkh7I/AAAAAAAAATU/AXWzQBEG-zs/s1600-h/DSC_0003.JPG"></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPrryf4CrKI/AAAAAAAAATc/ptAXY-N5At8/s1600-h/DSC_0088.JPG"></a></div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-91539147153173907492008-10-18T15:22:00.006+03:002010-11-19T16:58:58.647+02:00Heading South: The BeachesOur first stop was in Apollonia, an ancient city founded by Corinthian colonists around 600 BC. It's about a two hour drive from Tirana, along rough, dusty roads. It is said that the Roman Emperor Augustus (then called Octavian) studied here. Apparently Apollonia was an important port city for many centuries. Augustus declared Apollonia a "free and immune city", which meant the city didn't have to pay taxes to the Roman government. The people spoke Greek rather than Latin and used their own symbols on their coins. Inside the complex is a Byzantine monastery and beautiful little church, thought to date back to the 13th century. There are no monks that use the church still and I read that the church was only used as an archaelogical base. However, when we were there, we found modern pews and candles lit so someone must have been a-prayin'...<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258473215749877138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPnZh3WtbZI/AAAAAAAAASk/wUt3c16Hk_o/s320/DSC_0118.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258473219830196210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPnZiGjiJ_I/AAAAAAAAASs/x8ECGYlLvws/s320/DSC_0122.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258473225572340898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPnZib8kVKI/AAAAAAAAAS0/UdQGN9hVy6E/s320/DSC_0146.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258473234557296978" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPnZi9av4VI/AAAAAAAAAS8/LsUDxmlWCOA/s320/DSC_0151.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258473245846108290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPnZjneNeII/AAAAAAAAATE/eHlzZmq9q48/s320/DSC_0148.JPG" />Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-72149763914667444482008-10-15T17:50:00.004+03:002008-10-18T15:59:42.021+03:00Finally we hit the coast road. The views were dramatically breathtaking as we clung to the narrow curves 1,000 feet above sea level. Travis tirelessly drove while Amy and the other passengers vacillated between oohs and aahs and silent prayers. We drove until we hit the seaside town of Himare (Himara), had a scrumptious seafood dinner, and spent the night in a hotel right on the sea.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257397506161620178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYHLU3JtNI/AAAAAAAAAR8/qmfKccg02Dg/s320/DSC_0240.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257397512953600050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYHLuKfGDI/AAAAAAAAASE/ytsdLMp5hzE/s320/Looking+down+on+Dhermi.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257397524324297730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYHMYheLAI/AAAAAAAAASM/8xVkwtPPzH8/s320/DSC_0174.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257397532074484050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYHM1ZQoVI/AAAAAAAAASU/lYyGPNJNr8A/s320/DSC_0166.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257397539250963666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYHNQIRBNI/AAAAAAAAASc/5DI3_YKDTYE/s320/DSC_0246.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-52587230355088756682008-10-14T19:47:00.005+03:002008-10-18T15:56:17.834+03:00On the narrow road back from Himare we took a detour to the tiny town of Jale (Yala). The winding cobblestone streets and crumbling stone houses made this a charming stop, but what really made it memorable was an invitation into a local home. As we were walking through the town, we noticed a man making Raki, the traditional Albanian drink, a clear robust liquor made from grapes or other fruit depending on where it's from. After hearing Travis exclaim, "Raki!" the man invited us into his courtyard to sample his fine product. And it <em>was</em> fine. I was a little nervous at first because I have heard horror stories about home-brewed Raki and how, if made wrong, can kill you in an instant. But I couldn't resist. You can see from the picture below how they make it. He stores it in barrels outside his home and probably sells it to local markets. His wife then came out to greet us with a baby on her arm. Another small child was walking around covering his eyes, too (See picture). The lady of the house told us he was too shy to look at us. They showed us around their small vineyard and gave us a sample of grapes and brought us some orange soda too. Lovely gracious people. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257392328929048466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYCd-Kt95I/AAAAAAAAARc/N7srx9O2DT4/s320/DSC_0185.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257392337503560722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYCeeHCpBI/AAAAAAAAARk/eGKiJuZtlPc/s320/DSC_0195.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257392341800054802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYCeuHZ8BI/AAAAAAAAARs/a7GXSSOLCQk/s320/DSC_0191.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257392349256469250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPYCfJ5JywI/AAAAAAAAAR0/LvnWkBk5dTI/s320/DSC_0192.JPG" border="0" />Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-41140480644908746202008-10-14T18:48:00.004+03:002008-10-14T19:46:24.338+03:00We made our way down the steep, rocky cliffs some more in order to get to the pebbly, secluded beach at Jale (Yala). The water was turquoise and perfectly clear, with locals bringing in lobster as we soaked our feet and skipped stones. We were even visited by a mysterious, black sea creature that swam up to us and then swam away. <br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257051561314995266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPTMir4XzEI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/re2ltkte6a0/s320/DSC_0230.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257050921333182322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPTL9bw0T3I/AAAAAAAAAQY/9zLTpUcA_S8/s320/DSC_0224.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257050930458002002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPTL99wWAlI/AAAAAAAAAQg/ENgJZihpv7A/s320/DSC_0212.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257050931568266002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPTL-B5DSxI/AAAAAAAAAQo/_7Is31_cbds/s320/DSC_0228.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257050935462865202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPTL-QZmKTI/AAAAAAAAAQw/PkuRgi5aPMQ/s320/DSC_0219.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div></div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-75025017092635059202008-10-14T18:18:00.004+03:002008-10-18T17:51:24.256+03:00Our final stop for the night was the Adriatic coastal town of Vlore (Vlora). We drove up and down the streets in search of a decent hotel and finally settled on the Bologna, right on the sea. The thing that always strikes me about Vlore is the blue, blue water, as blue as you think blue should be, nothing more, nothing less. The color is precisely blue. There's not much to do in the town this time of year except admire the beautiful views from our hotel room and stroll along the long boulevards eating popcorn, along with everyone else on the customary Albanian evening stroll.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPS6rvpGMBI/AAAAAAAAAQA/vF1wi-3SqiE/s1600-h/DSC_0250.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257031925734191122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPS6rvpGMBI/AAAAAAAAAQA/vF1wi-3SqiE/s320/DSC_0250.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPS6sFvrwrI/AAAAAAAAAQI/vXTgfU0La8E/s1600-h/DSC_0258.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257031931667399346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPS6sFvrwrI/AAAAAAAAAQI/vXTgfU0La8E/s320/DSC_0258.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPS6sb5sTUI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/5aMPqhpWiMg/s1600-h/DSC_0263.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257031937614957890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/SPS6sb5sTUI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/5aMPqhpWiMg/s320/DSC_0263.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-28359427548184343542008-02-13T21:09:00.004+02:002008-02-13T21:17:20.856+02:00Egypt<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/R7NBWeIK1uI/AAAAAAAAALA/uNpvZzEMsmY/s1600-h/9+cafe+before+leaving+2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166545051824346850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/R7NBWeIK1uI/AAAAAAAAALA/uNpvZzEMsmY/s320/9+cafe+before+leaving+2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Check out our pics from our winter holiday trip to Egypt. </div><div><a href="http://good-times.webshots.com/album/562102860RNewkU">http://good-times.webshots.com/album/562102860RNewkU</a></div><div>We can't even begin to write about it here. There's just too much. Invite us out for coffee sometime and we'll tell you everything.</div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-32733150665127820132007-12-08T00:57:00.000+02:002007-12-08T01:06:24.780+02:00Thanksgiving 2007<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/R1nR1WC_cmI/AAAAAAAAAK4/SZXcyw0p7Ko/s1600-h/Spread.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141371164001530466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/R1nR1WC_cmI/AAAAAAAAAK4/SZXcyw0p7Ko/s320/Spread.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This year the Americans at our school hosted a Thanksgiving dinner for the non-American staff. We managed to bring in 6 turkeys along with the rest of the traditional good stuff: mashed potatoes and gravy, candied yams, cranberry sauce, 4 types of stuffing (inlcuding Stove-Top!...thanks to homegrocer.com), green-bean casserole, jello, pumpkin bars, apple pie, and apple crisp. Our director hosted it in his house, and about 30-40 people showed up.</div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-14560945247919363882007-12-08T00:33:00.000+02:002007-12-08T00:48:31.375+02:00Scout<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/R1nMX2C_clI/AAAAAAAAAKw/-Pih1Qrw5Qo/s1600-h/Tile+Scout.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141365159637250642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/R1nMX2C_clI/AAAAAAAAAKw/-Pih1Qrw5Qo/s320/Tile+Scout.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Here's a picture of the new love in our life...Scout. We first thought the cat was a "she" so we named her Scout after a beloved and famous novel character. Then we found out the cat was a "he". So now the name has taken on a more masculine, militaryesque tone. Now we have a boyScout instead of a girlScout.</div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-90362179259989755692007-10-28T16:23:00.000+02:002007-10-28T16:53:32.070+02:00Korca ItselfOk, I got so frustrated trying to format that last post, I ended it. I couldn't get those last two pictures to separate. So I'm starting another one of Korca itself. And I'm not even going to try to find the correct 'c' for Korca anymore. So once in Korca, we visited the beer factory, the first Albanian school, Entela's family, the Orthodox cathedral, and the market. Pictures follow. (Can you tell I'm slightly frustrated<br /><br />?) Korca is really a beautiful city, though. There are many lovely old buildings and about half of the city's streets are cobblestone. The traffic is far less than in Tirana, almost sparce. So it was a really peaceful weekend.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdE09JzxI/AAAAAAAAAJs/vHq4NrGZfxI/s1600-h/Korca+Beer+Factory.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126394982114643730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdE09JzxI/AAAAAAAAAJs/vHq4NrGZfxI/s320/Korca+Beer+Factory.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The Korca Beer Factory. It was nice, but mostly I'm glad to say I've been there. The beer at the factory wasn't as good, though, as it is in the bottle. I've heard that with Guiness, it's better the closer to the factory you have it in Ireland. I guess it's not the same with all beers. When Entela told our Taxi driver what I said about its been bitter, he blamed it on the German manufacturing process. Hmmm.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RyScRU9JzvI/AAAAAAAAAJc/dTl7kSJZX8E/s1600-h/First+Albania+School.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126394097351380722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RyScRU9JzvI/AAAAAAAAAJc/dTl7kSJZX8E/s320/First+Albania+School.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />The first school ever in Albania, I guess, was not really open when we went there. There were men inside wearing dust masks and doing renovations. They were really friendly though and, although only construction workers, still offered to show us around. It is a museum now.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdGE9JzyI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/hoxB74vptWc/s1600-h/first+school+grounds.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126395003589480226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdGE9JzyI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/hoxB74vptWc/s320/first+school+grounds.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Here is a picture of the school's courtyard.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdGE9JzyI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/hoxB74vptWc/s1600-h/first+school+grounds.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RyScSE9JzwI/AAAAAAAAAJk/zfe9QCuVxWc/s1600-h/Korca+Cathedral+T+and+A.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126394110236282626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RyScSE9JzwI/AAAAAAAAAJk/zfe9QCuVxWc/s320/Korca+Cathedral+T+and+A.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This is the new Cathedral. They were preparing it for a wedding, but we still got to go inside and see it. Certainly was lovely, both in side and out. Inside, there was a wooden chandelier about as big as our living room. Majestic, indeed.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdIk9Jz1I/AAAAAAAAAKM/0r_5Pu-tlPo/s1600-h/Korca+building+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126395046539153234" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdIk9Jz1I/AAAAAAAAAKM/0r_5Pu-tlPo/s320/Korca+building+1.jpg" border="0" /></a>This is probably the most famous of old buildings in the town.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdGk9JzzI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/drzf-3GXlrI/s1600-h/Korca+Market+4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126395012179414834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdGk9JzzI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/drzf-3GXlrI/s320/Korca+Market+4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Market pictures.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdH09Jz0I/AAAAAAAAAKE/nrH7rP_gI2o/s1600-h/Korca+Market+8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126395033654251330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySdH09Jz0I/AAAAAAAAAKE/nrH7rP_gI2o/s320/Korca+Market+8.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySf9k9Jz2I/AAAAAAAAAKU/dJAv0sNUBd8/s1600-h/Korca+Market+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126398156095475554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySf9k9Jz2I/AAAAAAAAAKU/dJAv0sNUBd8/s320/Korca+Market+3.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySf-09Jz3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/7Izac_4YVsI/s1600-h/Korca+street+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126398177570312050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySf-09Jz3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/7Izac_4YVsI/s320/Korca+street+2.jpg" border="0" /></a>And one last shot of a lovely side street in Korca. They all looked like this. I like the blend of modern and traditional, too, with the In Accessories store on the corner.Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-31341655549891099572007-10-27T08:57:00.000+03:002007-10-28T16:23:21.806+02:00Weekend in KorçaWe had an extra day off from school for Mother Teresa Day (She was Albanian, you know) and went with our friend Entela to her home town in the mountainous south. She had tried to get us a room at a cosy little villa, but when an important politician decided to stay there the same weekend, we magically lost our reservations. So we stayed at a pretty nice hotel called the Grand Hotel (included decent breakfast in a very cold room). Here is a picture of the lobby.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySW109JzoI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Zl3NAAlUjuc/s1600-h/landscape+10.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126388127346839170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySW109JzoI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Zl3NAAlUjuc/s320/landscape+10.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The trip going to and from Korça was one of the most interesting aspects of the weekend. By some unforeseen luck, a car was provided for us so we didn’t have to take the bus, which was really nice, in retrospect, since on the way back we had to take the bus. That was quite an experience.<br />The winding road with hairpin turns and switchbacks up and down the sides of mountains were enough to make several of our fellow passengers lose their lunches (Did we tell you the bus driver always passes out plastic bags for that purpose at the starts of these trips?). However, both going and coming, the views were incredible.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySS509JzkI/AAAAAAAAAIE/Ia3cql6XDkI/s1600-h/landscape+5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126383798019804738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySS509JzkI/AAAAAAAAAIE/Ia3cql6XDkI/s320/landscape+5.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Here is another view. These pictures aren't the best since they were taken out the window of a moving bus. </div><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySTek9JzlI/AAAAAAAAAIM/rMK2f16HB2k/s1600-h/Elbasan+4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126384429379997266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySTek9JzlI/AAAAAAAAAIM/rMK2f16HB2k/s320/Elbasan+4.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>We also passed through several towns along the way. Elbasan is an industrial city. Tons of factories spilling out gray smoke there, but we also passed a nice market place. Again, not the best pictures since taken from the bus. </div><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RyST7E9JzmI/AAAAAAAAAIU/avAtXZ_HoJQ/s1600-h/Elbasan+horse+cart+driver.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126384919006269026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RyST7E9JzmI/AAAAAAAAAIU/avAtXZ_HoJQ/s320/Elbasan+horse+cart+driver.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><div>And here's a guy on his cart, driving through town. This seemed to be a pretty common form of transport. </div></div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySXsU9JzpI/AAAAAAAAAIs/YZ-e9jt7Ohg/s1600-h/bicycle+salesman.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126389063649709714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySXsU9JzpI/AAAAAAAAAIs/YZ-e9jt7Ohg/s320/bicycle+salesman.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>The other cool town was Pogradec. It's beside beautiful lake Ohrid so I took a lot of shots there. Interesting man there selling peanuts off the back of his bicycle and selling the passerby a chance to see his or her weight. I guess that helps you decide whether or not you really need the peanuts. </div></div><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySYjE9JzrI/AAAAAAAAAI8/J8SOIbvlPY8/s1600-h/swans+on+pond.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126390004247547570" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySYjE9JzrI/AAAAAAAAAI8/J8SOIbvlPY8/s320/swans+on+pond.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div>There were some lovely swans on the pond too. I don't know, maybe it was a waterway that connected to the lake, somehow. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySY3k9JzsI/AAAAAAAAAJE/lE9TZfHpI4g/s1600-h/blue+boat+on+Lake+Ohrid+2.jpg"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySY3k9JzsI/AAAAAAAAAJE/lE9TZfHpI4g/s1600-h/blue+boat+on+Lake+Ohrid+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126390356434865858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RySY3k9JzsI/AAAAAAAAAJE/lE9TZfHpI4g/s320/blue+boat+on+Lake+Ohrid+2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>And here's a boat on the lake. The day was cloudy, it rained on and off, and we were chilly when we got out of the car to take photos on our journey to Korça, but the pictures still turned out nice. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div></div></div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-24880022060910078422007-09-07T21:02:00.000+03:002007-09-07T21:25:33.915+03:00Rainy Day in Tirana<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RuGSjIhDO-I/AAAAAAAAAHs/-J3xdJOtg7c/s1600-h/Full+Rainbow+4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107524584694037474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RuGSjIhDO-I/AAAAAAAAAHs/-J3xdJOtg7c/s320/Full+Rainbow+4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is the view from our balcony yesterday (kind of reminds me of our trip to St. Louis, see below). We had to stitch a couple of photos together to get this panaroma of it. Of course this picture doesn't do the real thing justice. It really was an amazing sight! I know that in the Bible God sent the rainbow as a promise not to destroy the earth with flood waters again, but hopefully this is God's promise to SEND some rain to Albania. </div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-10708122107980170172007-09-07T11:26:00.000+03:002007-09-07T11:48:16.955+03:00Return to TiranaWe arrived to a drought-ridden land facing a major energy crisis. Albania relies on hydro-electric power, many of the plants having been built during the communist era. The government placed restrictions on energy consumption this summer. We've heard that some people in Albania were going for days without water and there have been many reported food related poisonings in the hospitals due to the electricity/water crisis. The heat and drought didn't hit us as hard, but it was still intense. At first we were mainly living in our one room with air conditioning, even pulling our bed in there to sleep. Now, for the last few days, the rain has come, but it will take a lot more of it to get Albania out of it's woes. We're expecting a hard winter.Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-53397257608501619982007-08-18T18:20:00.000+03:002007-08-18T18:29:58.885+03:00Numbers<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RscPSIhDO4I/AAAAAAAAAG4/vqks3-NT9Cc/s1600-h/Eight"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100061907218545538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RscPSIhDO4I/AAAAAAAAAG4/vqks3-NT9Cc/s320/Eight%27s+Friends.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I, Travis, have been playing with numbers. I have this addiction to Sudoku that I'm not even trying to buck. Also, I've had the opportunity to teach Middle School Mathematics for the last three years. I've really had fun with that. So I guess that's how my art is beginning to bend into the subject of numbers. The beauty of those nine digits really facinates me. I'm not sure exactly what it is about them, or where I'm going with all of this, but I don't want to stop just yet. I have a lot more to explore in this area. Please check out my other paintings at the link listed here. Thanks.</div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-19879957138510744012007-07-18T05:05:00.000+03:002007-07-18T05:08:51.023+03:00Anniversary, St. Louis, MO<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp12IiDBHTI/AAAAAAAAAGw/i6sAAiBxmxc/s1600-h/DSC02921.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088353042949020978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp12IiDBHTI/AAAAAAAAAGw/i6sAAiBxmxc/s320/DSC02921.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>For their 5th anniversary, Travis whisked Amy away to St. Louis, Missouri for two nights. Here's the view from the hotel room.</div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-2835552505254208062007-07-18T05:02:00.000+03:002007-07-18T05:04:54.226+03:00St. Louis Zoo<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp11LyDBHSI/AAAAAAAAAGo/7aNLyWzTPPE/s1600-h/DSC02973.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088351999271968034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp11LyDBHSI/AAAAAAAAAGo/7aNLyWzTPPE/s320/DSC02973.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>We went to the zoo. Travis stopped to rest.</div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-51370027684536020242007-07-18T04:56:00.001+03:002007-07-18T05:02:35.892+03:00Cathedral Basilica, St. Louis, MO<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp10SyDBHQI/AAAAAAAAAGY/z7C1rdBrJ0A/s1600-h/DSC03075.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088351020019424514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp10SyDBHQI/AAAAAAAAAGY/z7C1rdBrJ0A/s320/DSC03075.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp10TiDBHRI/AAAAAAAAAGg/zxPnprPP4Hs/s1600-h/DSC03078.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088351032904326418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp10TiDBHRI/AAAAAAAAAGg/zxPnprPP4Hs/s320/DSC03078.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This Romanesque cathedral in St. Louis was begun in 1907 and houses 83,000 square feet of mosaic art</div>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-68216647252971140632007-07-18T01:27:00.000+03:002007-07-18T01:39:45.160+03:00Birthday Bash!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp1C0iDBHPI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/6aC1DNgQt1c/s1600-h/DSC02894.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088296624258620658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/Rp1C0iDBHPI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/6aC1DNgQt1c/s320/DSC02894.JPG" border="0" /></a> In late June, we celebrated Joyce's (Travis' mom) birthday by partying it up in Indianapolis, Indiana. We ate at fun restaurants, went to the spa (ladies only), took a walking historical tour of Indianapolis (courtesy of tour guide Mark Vanest) and strolled the canal area by surrey. What a fun weekend!Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-64103250633265762792007-06-02T00:00:00.000+03:002007-06-02T00:09:39.278+03:00Colorful Tirana<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RmCJb6MmhOI/AAAAAAAAAGI/NvpgAm-546s/s1600-h/CAD8O3T9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RmCJb6MmhOI/AAAAAAAAAGI/NvpgAm-546s/s320/CAD8O3T9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071204292990764258" /></a>Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36442195.post-22621606554470474472007-05-02T18:40:00.000+03:002007-05-02T18:51:34.522+03:00Back to Durres<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RjizQVnaSWI/AAAAAAAAAF4/H02Tn-UNy60/s1600-h/DSC02612.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RjizQVnaSWI/AAAAAAAAAF4/H02Tn-UNy60/s320/DSC02612.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059991274612476258" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RjizQ1naSXI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Ij7X583Im7o/s1600-h/DSC02616.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXkktz_XX9c/RjizQ1naSXI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Ij7X583Im7o/s320/DSC02616.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059991283202410866" /></a><br />We had a good time going to Durres with friends. Arte (Arta) teaches with us at school. She and her husband (Bata) and son (Sokol) also go to the church we’ve been to many times. They are all fluent in English and, more importantly, a lot of fun and an encouragement to us. We really like their company. So they took us in their car to a lovely restaurant on the seaside in the middle of a strip of beach full of hotels and cafes. We had some great local grilled fish, salads, wine, and bread. Then they took us to a really nice hotel for ice cream. After that they took us down the road a little farther and dropped us off in a patch of hotels and we said goodbye.Vanesthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00992527551533942669noreply@blogger.com0