The first time I went to London was in 1985. I was a wannabe preppy preteen from Cincinnati, Ohio, dressed in Jordache and Forenza — just on the cusp of full adolescence … and radiating the “nobody understands me” angst that comes along with puberty. It was a trip to Trafalgar Square in London that changed everything for me. There I saw punk rock kids hanging out in Doc Martens and leather jackets, sporting Mohawks, piercings, and tattoos. I was fascinated. It was like nothing I’d seen in Ohio. And then I heard their music. It was raw, edgy, angry … and I was hooked. I didn’t bring home the look, but I did bring home the music. Years later, I still listen to the Sex Pistols, The Clash, and the Ramones — and on a recent trip to England, I wondered: Where has all the punk gone?
Thanks to RuPaul and his amazing Drag Race, most people now know what a drag queen is — but there’s a new underground scene popping up in London that’s threatening to steal the crown … the drag king movement. Just as drag queens are men with women’s clothing and makeup, drag kings are women … cross-dressing as men. And there are a lot of them. Continue reading →
The No. 1 rule of travel is pretty simple: Don’t p*ss off the locals. Most people know this — or at least they think they do, and they usually give it the old college try when it comes to not stepping on the toes of the people around them in another city or country.
But what if you don’t know? What if you have no idea what irks the heck out of the locals? No worries; Yahoo Travel is here to help. With our How to P*ss Off series, we help you navigate those crazy cultural differences that can get you in so much trouble. So instead of getting bad karma and dirty looks, you can make friends and have a great time.
Grrr…don’t annoy the locals. (Getty Images)
This week we are in England — home of the queen, crumpets, and … apparently, a lot of people who want you to get out of their way. Think England is just like America but with a funny accent? Wrong. The English are all about their rules (Stand to the right! No stopping for photos! Get the street pronunciation right!), and they get really super cheesed off if you break them. So watch the video (above) and know before you go!
We’ve all seen women in burqas, niqabs, and abayas on the news — but how many do you actually know? And what is it like to wear one all the time?
Thanks to recent events and the advancement of IS, many people in the West see this traditional Islamic dress and cringe. But the truth is the niqab (a veil covering the head and face but not the eyes) has been around for millennia, predating the coming of Muhammad and the founding of Islam.
On my recent trip to Oman, I wanted to answer the question, “What is life really like for women in the Middle East?”
In Oman, they call the face mask a burqa. Sampta, a very traditional Bedouin woman, helps Froelich test it out. (Andrew Rothschild)
I’ve long been fascinated by that. I was raised in the Midwest, a part of the generation that grew up on Sally Field’s Not Without My Daughter (a movie in which Field’s character has to smuggle her daughter out of Iran because her Iranian husband will not give them permission to leave). In my hometown of Cincinnati, there were no women in burqas or hijabs, and it was completely alien to me.
As I grew up and traveled and lived around the world, I started to experience other cultures. But even when I visited places like Iraq, I still rarely had the opportunity to talk with the women behind the masks. I was never able to ask all the questions I had, like: Did you go to university? Do you date? And if you do — how? How do you socialize? Do you have arranged marriages? Can you get a divorce? Can you work after you get married? Do you have rights?
Faten, young and middle class — very much your everyday Omani woman. (Andrew Rothschild)
Now, clearly there are some women in the Middle East who go to college and have careers; there are female politicians there, of course. But I also know that most of these women are from upper-class families, who have always been educated and tend to live slightly outside the traditional norms.
I wanted to know what everyday life was like for everyday women.
Nawal, a fashion designer and very modern Omani woman, and Froelich. (Andrew Rothschild)
The French novelist Antoine de Saint-Exupéry once said, “What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well.”
Nowhere is this statement more apt than in Oman. The land of Sinbad the Sailor and the Queen of Sheba, Oman — with the exception of the coastline — is seemingly a never-ending desert. In the western part of the country is the Empty Quarter, with sand dunes that tower 30 stories high. The rest of the country is a rocky desert, covered in limestone and fossilized rock.
The dramatic landscape of Oman. (Photo: Kristina Cafarella)
To the untrained eye, it is a barren, lonely landscape that looks as if it would not — could not — support life. But then, just as the desert becomes monotonous and unforgiving, you climb to a mountaintop, look down, and see trees, greenery, and water.
The temperature was hovering at around 90 degrees while I was driving through the Sharqiyah region, 230 kilometers north of the capital city, Muscat. The car was air-conditioned, but when we got out to hike, my lungs felt as if they were full of sand, gravel, and dust.
I soon sat down to drink some water and rest for a minute, when my guide, Qais, said, “Look over your shoulder.” And there it was — the Wadi Bani Khalid, one of the most famous oases in Oman (wadi means valley and in the valleys are oasis).
For a hot second, I could imagine what the Bedouin felt like when they saw this oasis hundreds of years ago — riding by camel for days – hot, tired, and thirsty — and then finding a slice of heaven hidden on earth.
The dramatic landscape of Wadi Bani Khalid. (Photo: Kristina Cafarella)
The streams and pools of the Wadi Bani Khalid are surrounded by date palms and greenery. They were so clear that, from the position I sat in, at least a mile up, I could see through to the bottom of the pools.“Let’s go. Now,” I said.
“Absolutely,” Qais agreed. Five minutes later (by car), I was walking though a biblical scene. Because Oman used to be covered by ocean, the limestone boulders are etched with fossils. You have to watch your step, since it is slippery, and the holes in the rock are magically filled with water.
In the Middle Eastern country of Oman, in the ancient northern town of Nizwa, history comes to life every Friday as an ancient, fascinating form of banking takes place.
It doesn’t involve ATMs or bank accounts, but rather livestock.
Since the Queen of Sheba, not much has changed at the Nizwa cattle market, except perhaps the mode of transportation used to get the livestock to market. Standing in the shadow of the Nizwa Fort, hundreds of cattle traders and buyers surround a circular area. Goats, then cows, are paraded around, and a loud, lively bidding process begins.
Photo: Nizwa Fort (Kristina Cafarella)
The fatter cows and goats are sold for meat and the studly ones for breeding, but most of the livestock is sold for investment.
“I will buy this goat today and then sell it for more next week,” a man called Mahmoud said of his most recent purchase, describing a physical version of what modern day traders call flipping.
Mahmoud’s purchase, an adult long-haired goat with one horn that was chewing on his pant leg, set him back $400 — but he was hoping to get $600 for it within the month.
Baby goats with their umbilical cords still attached are snapped up for around 100 rials (at an exchange rate of $3 per rial, that’s expensive). Cows, because they cost more to maintain, are at least six times more.
And high-quality animals can cost more than a car.
Last week a goat sold for the rial equivalent of $6,000, my guide Qais said. “It was a breeder. But most are sold for a few hundred rials, fattened up, and sold again within a few weeks for more money.”
Once a year at the end of October on Inle Lake in Myanmar, there is a festival of epic proportions. The lake’s canals and surrounding waterways are jammed with long boats rowed by over 100 men, all wearing fishing pants and dress shirts. But the most amazing thing to witness is that they row with their legs. Not kidding.
An over-the-top festival on Inle Lake. (Photo: Andrew Rothschild)
Four out of five golden Buddha statues from the Phaung-Daw-Oo Pagoda are carried on a royal barge and taken around to 15 villages on the lake. Hundreds of boats follow the two-week-long procession. As they squeeze through narrow canals with the music pumping and the rower’s legs churning, it turns into one heck of a party.
On the banks of the Irrawaddy River, several hundred miles north of Yangon in Myanmar, lies Bagan — a once secret and all-but-abandoned city, dedicated to Buddha. Covering an area of 40 miles are endless temples and stupas in varying degrees of disarray and decay.
Bagan is an ancient city that is perhaps the embodiment of one of the biggest lessons in history — all things must come to an end.
You may not have heard about Bagan, but you’ll want to put it on your bucket list. (Andrew Rothschild)
While some locals claim that the city was officially founded in the 2nd century A.D., it didn’t come to prominence until the 7th century. From 1044 to 1287, it became a seat of power, and more than 10,000 religious buildings were erected – many by wealthier citizens hoping to get in good with the Buddha. The theory was that if you built a big stupa or temple, you wouldn’t be reincarnated again; you would go straight to nirvana.
One of the coolest things about travel is wandering into a place that time seems to have truly forgotten. These days, locations like that are few and far between — but they still exist. One of the most special to me is Bamiyan, Afghanistan. I went there earlier this year for the Afghan Ski Challenge. At first, I was very nervous. After all, it’s Afghanistan: It’s war-torn and medieval. And I kept wondering, “Will I have to wear a burka?”
Well, yes and no. It is no longer war-torn. In fact, northern Afghanistan is considered peaceful — the Taliban was very harsh to the local Hazara people and blew up the famed, ancient Buddha structures in 2001. But when the United States troops invaded in 2002, the Taliban was swiftly routed and kicked out. They have yet to resurface there.
