The thermometer of the attic apartment reads 40.3C. The act of reading the temperature of the tiny digital display no doubt causes more drops of sweat to roll down my forehead. Its almost August in Lisbon and with temperatures like this when no one dares to move too quickly as a matter of health, it is no wonder the entire nation is always several steps behind much of the European Union.
Hours later, when the merciless sun has finally passed behind one of the city’s seven hills, I make my way to the cozy restaurant with wifi, where I always hold court when I am in town. I’m greeted by one of Lisbon’s busiest and kindest restaurant owner-entrepeneurs, my good friend David. He reminds me to make myself at home and I ask how is business, with my best “businesslike” tone. “Really really good actually”, he tells me with an air of satisfaction, “It has already been a great summer business wise.” David looks up motioning towards the upper floors of the building which he rents to tourists for several years now. He clears a few tables and chit-chats with various costumers in French, Spanish, Portuguese, and English, before he finally pulls up a chair to ask me about my journeys and get up to speed with my offline life.
Outside the night air is still hot and people move slowly through the beloved streets of the Bairro Alto. They love to talk about how bad the economy is here, they being my fellow Portuguese citizens. Yet when I look around, I see people everywhere, walking, eating, photographing, talking business on the phone, opening up another bizarre pseudo-clothing shop-bar-club.
Alas I love Lisbon and I was once an urban anthropologist in this town, my hours of study were between 11pm and 6am. But now I am an outsider, observing and enjoying still, but out of touch with what is what for the people of this proud city. Then again, I was probably always an outsider.
A short podcast from the Russia-Mongolia border. As it takes about 3 hours to clear Russian customs, and more than 1 hour to clear Mongolian customs, I decided to get out and record some observations and thoughts especially in regards to the first two weeks in Siberia. You’ll also hear me briefly interrupted by the arrival of a battalion of Russian border guards.
I set off from Tomsk in the direction of Kemerovo more than 2 weeks ago, yet memories of the adventures and encounters that I had there still dance in my head. In sorting through all the video I recorded during that time, I’ve put together one more video montage of my experience as a guest lecturer and overall visitor in Tomsk, a city which I found to be very interesting; where everyday I learned something new.
Irkutsk, Russia: land of engineering, the trans-siberian railroad, an oil pipline to China, raw materials, and a whole lot of water. After 36 hours from Novosibirsk to Irkutsk I arrived tired of the cramped train cabin but well fed after two elderly Russian ladies felt it was their job to keep me fed and call me to the table every 4-5 hours.