How to Be a Tourist Just About Anywhere

You're bored all the time. You want to make some new friends. You need to escape the clutches of whatever screen you're looking at right now. You know nothing about your hometown despite having lived there for most of your life. Whatever the reason, you know you've got to get out...but you're not on vacation, so how can you be a tourist? I'm always itching for an adventure, so here are some of my tricks for getting off your butt and into the world, even if it's just in your backyard.

Use the internet. If you are uncomfortable adventuring alone, uncertain about where to go, too broke to go to the well-known places, or just not convinced that being a tourist is worth it, go ahead, stay home all day. And research some places to explore.

Don't limit yourself to the major newspaper and friend's Facebook walls. Read skim the comment sections of articles about the famous tourist attractions for lesser-known ideas. Google embarrassingly obvious things like "best secret spots of (insert location here)" and "(location name) blog" If you keep getting hits from the same websites, use the handy minus sign and eliminate those boring mainstream websites-- this is adventuring for bandwagon hipsters.

Let yourself be inspired, excited, intrigued by what you find. Search for videos of the event, stalk the spot on GoogleEarth, find online forums and groups that mention it. Basically, be a virtual tourist and get the itch to adventure. BUT don't let yourself get sucked into the abyss of the interwebs. Give yourself a deadline and, partner or no, get out there!

Pick up papers. Essentially the old school version of the internet, there is still paper everywhere. So pique you interest and also save the environment and pick up some papers. Newspapers, magazines, flyers, those annoying postcards people hand to you on the street right after you've nabbed one from the convenient table at the front of the restaurant, business cards, information pamphlets, tear off tabs. Be grabby, take what you want and what you aren't sure about--don't take what you definitely don't want--and recycle what you don't need. I find saving the paper I want to do and keeping it in an obvious place (next to my computer, in my wallet, or on my fridge) is a good way to remind myself that I'm interested. Bonus perk: when you read about the area that you are in, you become a more informed and engaged citizen! Who wouldn't want to be a contributing member of society!?

Hang out in public places. Public transportation should, at the very least, take you by way of some popular spots. Coffee shops, bus stops, libraries, park benches...they are made for people! You can be one of those people! Then maybe, just maybe, you can work up the nerve to do the next thing...

Talk to strangers. Yes, mama said not to. But go ahead. Ask for directions. Maybe they know a shortcut. Give someone a compliment. They might recommend the shop where they bought their shoes. Help someone with their bags and their dog and their escaping hat and the door. Perhaps they'll say thank you. Perhaps not. Whatever, life isn't a romantic comedy. But information comes from experiences, and PEOPLE have experiences, so ask about them! Pro tip: when the conversation is over, say goodbye and leave. Get their info if you (both) want, but forgoodnesssake please don't prolong awkwardness.

Become a regular. (Thanks, Gail!) Say hello to the man at the corner store where you buy your afternoon pick-me-up and chat with the happy hour bartender as she pours your drink. Chances are A. They're a long time local, in which case you need to prove your awesomeness before getting the good dirt, or B. They're new, but maybe they like adventuring too! Once again, don't be annoying. Keep it to a minimum, and always thank someone for their help.

Wander. Choose a direction, and go. Follow your intuition. Does that street look interesting? Take a gander. Does this area feel unsafe? Turn around. Obviously this is not to say walk around with your cash hanging out of your pockets and your eyes closed. What I am saying is only take out a map when you need one. I'm saying an itinerary is not always necessary.

Buy a map. My personal favorite. I love maps and hang them all over my apartment (which I know is a glorified room, don't judge! I don't spend much time there anyway!). Here's what you do. Buy a map and look at it. Look at it when you are waiting for your tea water to boil. Look at it when you are procrastinating. Look at it when you need a break. Look at it after you got lost on your wandering adventure and thank god your phone didn't run out of battery before you found the main road. You'll see something of interest, and you can go there! Door's on your left. Or right. Bonus points when you eventually develop a better sense of direction and don't need your GPS to guide you back home after a full day of adventuring.

Finally, mix it up. Sure, do what you like and like what you do. But adventuring is partially about the challenge of unfamiliarity. Would it have been cool to adventure in your living room? Maybe with the proper amount of couch cushions, sheets, and a good book....but certainly not every day. Pay attention to your patterns and inspire yourself to try something new. General adventuring categories I could think of off the top of my head are: natural/man made, inside/outside, free/ticketed, hands-on/hands-off(!), day/night/early morning, academic/athletic/musical/artistic, near/far, half-an-hour/all weekend. Take risks, and remember that no matter how cliche it sounds, failures are adventures, too.

Editor's Note: The magnificent creature featured as the subject in these photos is Winifred Rogers, who you can follow on twitter @RastaWinnie 

Pulse of Miami: New World Symphony Takes on the Party Scene

Never date a musician, right? Or is it "date a musician, but don't expect to live a life of glamour"? Well, whatever it is, last night my musician boyfriend took me to Pulse at the New World Symphony. And it was indeed glamorous, as in Miami Beach clubbing, heels, a dress, and a cocktail glamorous. I didn't bring a water bottle of wine but I should have, and I didn't fall asleep which, if you've ever attended a typical orchestra concert, is usually within the realm of possi- borderline probability.

Orchestras have been an endangered species for a while now. Its audiences are wrinkled and wealthy and hard-of-hearing. Its musicians are dinosaurs of people who are generally underpaid, but will only hand down their seat to the long line of eager applicants if Death himself is in the audience. There have been dozens of articles speculating about the demise of the orchestra. For me, it's my own fault. I didn't grow up truly listening to classical music; it was always background ambiance. I don't know most of the composers, the history, the stories. I don't have the musical training to analyze before, during, or after hearing a piece, and at concerts I struggle to divine the church-like rules of classical music: When do I clap? Is it rude to cough? So yes, the orchestra is dying, but I'm sure the orchestra would say it's my claim to being 'cultured' that is passing on.

Then last night happened. Having attended many an 'orthodox' orchestra concert, even I was disoriented. We were ushered past a pop-up bar and into an intimate performance space by the throbbing beats of a DJ in a tuxedo. The musicians, in traditional black, bared a bit more skin than usual, and the young German conductor played double-duty as an energetic MC. The rules had been broken. Audience members cheered and chatted. Giant dancers, enhanced by 70s-esque special effects, were projected across sails suspended from the ceiling. I audibly and physically reacted to the music, gasping and dancing, and I even wolf-whistled at the end of a piece.

I'll take the Bach door into this club.

New World is a serious organization. It is a training orchestra, which may sound elementary, but its members are the olympians of the classical music scene: young, talented, and frighteningly hard working. Tickets to their next Friday evening concert start at $70 a piece, perhaps another reason why their audiences are more my grandmother's peers than my own. Nevertheless, New World is doing something that even my musician boyfriend didn't anticipate. Pulse made the orchestra accessible to a more modern, energetic, and culture-hungry crowd. The audience last night was in party mode, and they were obviously having a good time. There were even promoters handing out ads for an afterparty at a nearby club. Pulse could be reviving the orchestra. Pulse could be classical music's fountain of youth, its fresh spring of wealth.

DJ Floppy Bow Tie

But Pulse hasn't entirely grasped the beat yet. Their ticket prices are rightfully increasing, but the event still only occurs about twice a year. Imagine a scenario in which, charmed by the excitement of Pulse, members from this new audience are enticed into purchasing a ticket to a more traditional concert. If New World wants, it could set up a program through which a person earns a discount on regular tickets after attending say, three Pulse events. The organization could also use the opportunity to educate us laymen and women about classical music. They did have convenient program notes displayed on the sails, but the conductor conspicuously caught himself before saying the word 'concertmaster' and replaced it with the more familiar term 'first violin.' Creating comfort for the more formal performances is key to reeling concert-goers into the ticket counter.

Pulse is an excellent date idea, certainly one of the most interesting things I've done in Miami and also one the of most unique things I've done just about ever. It oozes potential as an example for orchestras around the world to begin solving their problems of disappearing audiences and emptying endowments. But these events need strike to balance between basic appeal for their target audiences and respect for the musicians and their art. It shouldn't merely be a gimmick to sell tickets, but a platform on which to build interest, understanding, and perhaps from there begin the new congregation of classical music devotees.

Mixed up in Miami: Pros and Cons

Sick of winter? Jealous of those of us in tropical climates? Miami seduces even the toughest Canadian with the temptation of a permanent escape from the Abominable Snowman. But if you are thinking of moving, don't waste time comparing a list of pros and a list of cons. What you need is a list of Pros and Cons because yes, Miami is that confusing.

1. Spanish is Everywhere

On the radio, across billboards, in the restaurant and the supermarket and the streets. As of the 2010 census, 63.77% of the population in Miami-Dade County speaks Spanish. Am I practicing? Not really. Sure, the woman taking our order doesn't speak English, but it doesn't seem like she'll be charmed a gringa struggling to sputter some Spanish at her.

2. Diversity
Miami has one of the highest percentages of foreign born population in the world. This doesn't mean that it's the most diverse, but it blasts many other places (like South Korea) out of the water. For example, there is access to basically any kind of food you could want. In the past few weeks I've enjoyed Korean, Japanese, Greek, German/Austrian, Mexican, Cuban, Italian, Brazilian, Indian, Thai, and probably more.

3. Weather
You (could) wear shorts every day, seeing as it's 80 degrees most of the time. I don't even own a jacket anymore. Sometimes that doesn't work out so well, but it's a luxury to be warm every morning when you get out of bed. I get sweaty on my walk to work even though it's 8:30 AM in January. The constant climate for body-baring does lead to some places basically becoming Barbie Land. I happened upon a Model Beach Volleyball competition, and probably see a Maserati per day, on average.

4. Tourism
The beaches are here and you can go all the time. Sparkling water, direct sunlight, and sand. The water is everywhere but you can't have it. There's no parking, or there's only expensive parking, and you have to drive past miles of privately owned seaside before you reach a public, tolled, and likely crowded beach. Tourist attractions cost money, and not chump change. It's about $20 a person to get into two of Miami's most lauded destinations, Fairchild Tropical Botanical Garden and Vizcaya Museum and Gardens. Hope they didn't want me to visit more than once, because I'm gonna avoid spending that lunch money and keep my eyes peeled for the rumored free admission days.

5. Landscape
There are adorable little lizards and other surprising and fascinating flora and fauna everywhere. Check out this short documentary about fluorescent local coral! However, many of these creatures are either invasive or endangered... and if not that, then they are going to be underwater in about 100 years.






























6. City Layout

"The time is always now!"

The city is sprawl, limited here and there by either ocean or alligator territory, and the traffic is a formidable and seemingly unpredictable beast, from work day rush hours to random fifteen minute back-ups for no apparent reason. On top of this, people drive like they're Sterling Archer, or like they can only see the edges of the road, not the lines or the other cars. This shouldn't be too big of a problem because Miami has both a metro line and a bus system, but despite that fact public transportation is essentially nonexistent. I admit I might be simply spoiled from my residence in Seoul, a public transport utopia, but the facts are unavoidably underwhelming. You can't take the metro to the Miami Beach, the city's most important tourism spot. If you take a bus, there's a good chance it's late, inordinately expensive, and the air conditioner has probably been dripping water all over the empty seats at the back of the bus.

To conclude, Miami isn't like Korea, which isn't surprising, but it isn't like the U.S. of A, either. In Korea I was a 'real' foreigner, and it garnered for me all kinds of sympathy, assistance, friends and excuses for my embarrassing moments. In Miami, I'm a 'fake' foreigner. Still searching for the hip spots to hang? Don't know the most efficient ways of getting around? Can't communicate effortlessly with someone? Wait a minute...aren't you from this country?! A redeeming quality: this unfamiliarity is where I can begin to explore, and (hopefully) find that keen feeling of accomplishment, the one that comes at the end of the day, when your ankles are dusty from walking, your feet are tired, and your mind is buzzing with the aftermath of adventure.

Laughing All the Way: Christmas Through the Art of a Child

In my house, we always decorate for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving. That's the day CDs of carols play on repeat, dishes adorned with wreathes invade our cabinets, and just about every surface becomes a display center for holiday cheer: religious or secular, broken or repaired, last year's gift or great-great-grandma's sister's husband's whatever, and store bought or school project--which we can just interpret as "decent looking" or "embarrassing". Therefore, the decorations created by me and my two brothers throughout our elementary years are relegated to the kitchen.

Catholic school, lack of artistic ability, and a child's perspective adds a certain luster to objects below. So without further ado, I present: Laughing All the Way: Christmas Through the Art of a Child

I was 8 so this card is circa 1999

Here we have two angels descended to Earth in the form of obnoxiously large greeting cards, with a disproportionate amount of poorly written greetings. Brought to you by my middle brother, Michael, and yours truly. Mine reads:                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     "Dear Family,                                                                                                                                                          Even though I have only been with you eight years, I still look                                         back at the other Christmases and think of what fun we had. I love                                       you very much and am sorry for doing anything wrong. So I want to                                       wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              My handwriting, you'll note, is neat but poorly planned, and as I was too lazy to color another page of these ginormous angels, I gracefully shortened my message and crammed it all in at the bottom of the page. Apparent themes of Misperception of Life Span Relative to Most Other Humans, Blatant Plagiarism of Christmas-Related Media, and Catholic Guilt thread through the prose. Also, I have always been bad at drawing, but apparently I was bad at coloring, too. On to Mike.

Mike's note is a bit more direct. He does not take full advantage of the space allotted for the heartwarming tidings to his family. He writes:

      "Merry Christmas and a Happy new year. It does
      not take a good boy to make a good Christmas card!"

Ah, yes. Christmas clarity. 

Moving into a more academic realm, we find a teacher's clever incentive for reading and responding, the holiday book report. Here, mom has painstakingly preserved the work of Mike and our youngest brother, John.

We must commend the boys on their outstanding grades which were teacher, parent, and self monitored through this official smiley-face-rubric. Mom makes a small appearance to point out that Mike draws a better Grinch than she can, thereby explaining that unfortunate family trait. Highlights from the summaries include

          "The Grinch tride [sic] to stel [sic] Christmas. The Grinch took all ther [sic] presents and ther feast."

          "The story takes place outside"

I have to admit, my favorite part is the signature:

"Michool Rogony" starting bid $5000

Now check this out. This greenery burdens a kitchen every year--Oh, look, candy! Wait a sec....How long has that been there? 1999!?!?

Two final gems to wrap up this holiday treat. I want to say that they speak for themselves, but is that Genghis Khan? Maybe just a Mongol warrior?

In the end, we know the true spirit of the season.  Spreading Christmas love and cheer, and signing your last name for the people who don't remember you from last year. 

Norebang Tour of Korea

In my last post from my time in Korea, I present to you, dear reader, the best part of Korea: 노래방 / Norebang. I can't begin to express to you the wonder of these private karaoke rooms, rented to the weekend-evening-enthusiasts for a low cost and a high profit. My own relationship with Norebang developed as it became clear that my fellow merrymakers and I prioritized a norebang stop in every place we visited throughout Korea (excepting Mudfest. Boryeong  노래방, you escaped our love). I hope these few snapshots help you to share in the glory that is Norebang, and may you one day come to know it's wonder.

Final note: I did not take all of these pictures. All the high-quality, actually pleasant to view photos belong to Michael O'Donnell.