Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

What’s in Your Suitcase?

by Joyce McGreevy on October 9, 2017

A souvenir store in Budapest, Hungary leads a writer to seek the locus of travel inspiration and other aha moments. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Souvenir stores straddle the border between “this place” and “any place.”
© Joyce McGreevy

Collected Travel Inspiration,
With & Without Souvenirs

Souvenirs—talismans of travel inspiration, mere trinkets, or  trash?  Can they inspire aha moments or only memorialize them?

The very word is a souvenir of 18th century French—from souvenir “to remember.” But I like the ancient Latin even better. Subvenire, “to come up from below,” tips its hat to the subconscious. It makes me think of opening old boxes in a basement and finding forgotten treasure, some silly, small item of no value.  And yet  . . .

Lost Souvenirs

My first souvenir? Petite plastic dolls from a Paris flea market. In the 1960s, my sister Carolyn and I splurged all our pocket money on them, one franc each. Ah, but that included “tous les meubles!”—all the furniture. Our dollhouse was a cupboard in our hotel, itself a souvenir of La Belle Époque.

A dollhouse in a store window in Sofia, Bulgaria leads a writer to ponder the travel inspiration we find in souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A dollhouse in a store window in Sofia, Bulgaria.
© Joyce

They’re long gone now—dolls, furniture, the hotel, too. But my flea-market mind maintains a little shrine for them.

The first recorded use of souvenir as a token of remembrance occurred in 1782. One dictionary after another presents this tidbit but omits the actual example. It’s like finding a silver lid minus the vessel.  Souvenirs are like that—parts that can only hint at the whole.

Today, few people admit to souvenir-collecting. Marketing reports attest that travelers spend more on sightseeing than on shopping, souvenirs, and nightlife combined. Yet souvenir shops do booming business around the globe.

It’s Only Natural?

Early souvenir hunters “preserved” the past by breaking off bits of it. In the 1800s, visitors to Plymouth Rock were even provided with hammers.

An 1850 souvenir of Plymouth Rock leads a writer to ponder the downside of souvenirs and the true locus of travel inspiration. (Public domain image, National Museum of American History)

A chip off the old block? Some souvenirs proved too popular.
Plymouth Rock Fragment by National Museum of American History,  CC BY 4.0

Can the quest for remembrances make us forgetful? Recently, a mother and daughter from Virginia mailed back “souvenirs” to Iceland—a stone and a bag of sand they’d collected from the black volcanic beaches of Reynisfjara.

Back home, they learned that Icelandic law strictly forbids such souvenir collecting. The tourism board accepted their apology and promised to return the items to their natural setting.

Practical Souvenirs

A friend of mine collects “shoe-venirs” when she travels. Every walk she takes begins in lands she has loved.

A chef I know collects  household objects—a moka pot from Milan, spices from Moroccan souks. They link his American kitchen to kitchens around the world.

I like how these souvenirs, modern cousins to ancient vessels and vestments, are connected to daily rituals.

Ancient gold jewelry in the Benaki Museum, Athens, Greece inspires an aha moment about their connection to ordinary souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Charms of another age, at the Benaki Museum, Athens.
© Joyce McGreevy

Post-travel Souvenirs

One January, after returning from verdant Maui to snowbound Chicago, I saw melancholy sidle up to me. An aha moment intervened. I collected post-travel souvenirs: thrift store décor; Hawaiian-themed groceries; traditional island music. I adore Chicago, but Chicago-infused-with-Maui did wonders for my psyche that winter.

Garden objects in Maui lead a writer to ponder the reasons we find travel inspiration in souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Objects catch our eye, but it’s the context that we crave.
© Joyce McGreevy

Ephemeral Souvenirs

Even minimalists-to-the-max collect souvenir ephemera. It’s scientific fact. Just as magnets attract iron filings, humans attract paper: playbills from Piccadilly, coasters from Costa Rica, a café napkin from Nantes.

One day, you rediscover it—the train ticket turned bookmark. Suddenly, you’re traveling again, backtracking along the past, or pressing your nose against a window onto the future.

A collage made of travel ephemera on an office wall in Chicago leads a writer to ponder ways people find travel inspiration in souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Travel ephemera on an office wall in Evanston, Illinois.
© Joyce McGreevy

Whimsical Souvenirs

Now comes the parade of fringed pillows, ceramic caricatures, and other tchotchkes. Brazenly they shout out where you’ve been: Niagara Falls 1978! I heart Twickenham! Gibraltar ROCKS My World!

All hail souvenirs that sport the name Souvenir. If that Souvenir of Venice tea-towel were a person, it would stand arms akimbo and declare, “Yeah, pal, that’s right, I’m a Souvenir. What’s it to ya?”

Mass-produced pillows in California lead a writer to ponder why people find travel inspiration in souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Southwestern “souvenirs” for sale—in a California suburb.
© Joyce McGreevy

“Elsewhere” Souvenirs

But what of provenance? During my youth in Ireland, the more stereotypical the souvenir, the likelier it was to be stamped An tSeapain tir adheanta—“Made in Japan.” Who made the faux French dolls my sister and I played with? Where did they live? What were their lives like? Souvenirs keep secrets.

Twilight in Baltimore, Co. Cork, Ireland leads a writer to compare the travel inspiration of souvenirs vs. experiences. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A moment made in Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Elusive Souvenirs

The day I left Budapest, I passed between souvenir stores. Innumerable wares glinted in the sunlight like autumn leaves. As a single-suitcase traveler, I pretend I’m “immune to the stuff.” But the ache of departure made me gluttonous with desire, as if travel inspiration were something to consume: I wanted the “all” of Budapest.

Oh, I see moment: Maybe that’s what travel souvenirs represent—a longing to live multiple lives in myriad places, in times that never have to end.

Empty-handed, heart full, I boarded the train and said goodbye to Budapest.

Now then, what’s in your suitcase?

See souvenirs so quirky they seem satirical, here

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Mexico in March—Monarch Butterflies Take Wing

by Sheron Long on March 24, 2015

Students photographing monarch butterflies at their winter home in central Mexico, illustrating the impact that global citizens can have against the threats to the monarch butterfly. (Image © Carol Starr)

Documentary filmmakers meet a golden subject in the central highlands of Mexico.
© Carol Starr

Global Citizens Fly High, Too

Any day now, the eastern monarchs will leave their winter home in the Sierra Madre mountains of central Mexico and begin their epic journey across the US to Canada. Theirs is a know-no-boundaries flight pattern.

These pollinators are crucial to a continued food supply. Yet, like the honeybees, their numbers are dwindling: the 2014–15 estimate is about 56.5 million, a fraction of the 1 billion monarch butterflies that wintered in Mexico in 1996–97.

Who can help these fragile long-distance travelers? Global citizens, who work for monarch conservation with a know-no-boundaries fight pattern.

 

Monarch butterfly showing off its wing span, a sight that global citizens work to protect. (Image © Carol Starr)

The fragile wings of an adult monarch propel it on a
migration of up to 2,800-miles (4,500 km).
© Carol Starr

The Mysterious Monarch

Scientists still don’t know how monarch butterflies know where to go, though the mystery of their winter home was solved in 1975 when the decades-long work of Fred Urquhart, a Canadian zoologist, came to fruition.

Urquhart began a tagging and tracking program that pointed to a diagonal flight pattern northeast to southwest across the US, but he lost track of the butterflies once they crossed the border into Mexico. Help came in the form of Ken Brugger (and his dog Kola), who traversed the Mexican countryside in a motor home.

Brugger looked for monarchs in areas where a tagged butterfly had been found, and he researched reports of sightings. Following the lead of Mexican woodcutters, who had spotted swarming butterflies, Brugger stepped into a forested highland valley and saw an awe-inspiring sight:

Millions of monarch butterflies hanging in clusters from the oyamel trees! 

Thousands of monarch butterflies hanging in clusters from oyamel trees, a sight that global citizens work to protect. (Image © Carol Starr)

The semi-dormant monarchs hang together to conserve heat during cold nights.
With thousands of butterflies in a cluster, some become so heavy that branches break.
© Carol Starr

Because they reached across borders, Brugger and Urquhart solved the mystery of the monarch’s winter home. For the full and fascinating story, see Found at Last, published in August 1976 by National Geographic.

The Monarch in Mexican Culture

Though the winter home had remained a mystery until 1975, people in the central highlands of Mexico had long experienced the fall arrival of the monarchs. Among the Purépecha, the indigenous word for the monarch means “harvest butterfly” because the butterflies reliably arrived at harvest time.

Coinciding with harvest time are celebrations on November 1 and 2, marking the Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), when Mexicans decorate the graves of their ancestors and honor them with feasts and offerings. The butterflies came to symbolize the souls of ancestors returning for a visit on these special days.

Decorated gravesites in a Mexican cemetery, illustrating Mexican traditions to celebrate the Day of the Dead and the butterfly as a cultural symbol of departed ancestors. (Image © Arturo Peña Romano Medina / iStock)

Fall colors brighten the graves in a Mexican cemetery for the
traditional celebration of Día de los muertos.
© Arturo Peña Romano Medina / iStock

Traditions are meant to continue, but in fall 2013, the butterflies did not show up on time, and that year the overwintering population dropped to a new low—about 33 million monarchs.

Challenges to the Fragile Flyers

Though weather and temperatures are factors, habitat loss is the most significant. In Mexico’s forest habitat:

  • The human population also depends on the oyamel forests for survival, and this leads to unsustainable and illegal logging.
  • Increased tourism to view the amazing colonies of overwintering butterflies has raised awareness of the monarchs’ plight, but it has also degraded the habitat.
Monarch butterflies in oyamel trees, a type of fir on which they depend for survival, illustrating the need for forest conservation by global citizens. (Image © Carol Starr)

The fluttering, flitting flecks of gold and orange and black attract
about 150,000 tourists per year.
© Carol Starr

In the flyway habitat through the US, the monarchs lay their eggs on the milkweed plant, vital food for the caterpillars, but milkweed is disappearing at a rapid pace:

  • Since federal subsidies for biofuels have driven up the price of corn, farmers have converted open acreage, where native plants like milkweed grow, to fields and fields of corn.
  • Use of herbicides, like Roundup, have wiped out much of the milkweed.
  • When roads, parking lots, grass lawns, and ornamental landscapes go in, native plants go out. Food—milkweed for caterpillars and nectar plants for adult monarchs—is lost.

Solutions from Global Citizens

In 1986, Mexico established the Monarch Butterfly Biosphere Reserve, now over 200 square miles, and in 2007 it outlawed logging. The area is now also a Unesco World Heritage site.

Entrance to Mexico's El Rosario sanctuary for the monarch butterfly, illustrating the important work of global citizens in monarch conservation. (Image © Carol Starr)

The entrance to El Rosario sanctuary leads to a steep climb, but the
kaleidoscope of butterflies you see at the top is worth it!
© Carol Starr

The World Wildlife Fund (WWF) and the Monarch Butterfly Fund (MBF) work with Mexico to seek solutions to habitat loss. Recognizing the economic dependence of the human population on the same land, these groups help villagers establish income-producing alternatives to logging, with jobs in mushroom cultivation and at nurseries that grow trees for reforestation.

The Monarch Sister Schools Program connects schools in the US and Mexico that work together to restore the monarchs’ habitats and engage in cultural exchange.

Young student dressed up like a monarch butterfly, illustrating school efforts to develop global citizens who care about the monarchs' decline. (Image © Carol Starr)

Monarch festivals at sister schools in the US and Mexico
invite kids to walk in a monarch’s shoes, er—wings!
© Carol Starr

The work of such organizations proceeds from a global mindset, but citizens who buy into “Think Global, Act Local” can make a difference, too.  Here are six ways:

#1.  Spread the word like the students from American University and Technológico de Monterrey (see first photo) whose documentary will give others an “Oh, I see” moment or two about the butterflies’ plight. It premiers at the Mexican Cultural Institute of Washington, D.C., on April 28.

#2.  Reestablish milkweed habitats like the senior living community  and the Soil Mates Garden Club in Lexington, KY, who planted milkweed and other natives in their courtyard to create Monarch Butterfly Waystation #8781. Visit Monarch Watch for seeds and all you need to create and certify a waystation.

#3.  Grow native nectar plants to feed adult monarchs on their migratory journey. Plantbutterflies.org offers plant charts and planting instructions.

Monarch butterfly sipping nectar from a wildflower, illustrating the need for global citizens to work for monarch conservation. (Image © Rafael Cespedes / iStock)

Invite a monarch to lunch!
© Rafael Cespedes / iStock

#4.  Report sightings with the Journey North app to help scientists unravel more monarch mysteries and track numbers.

#5.  Advocate for “fueling stations” on public lands with help from Pollinator Partnership’s manuals on planting a utility right of way.

#6.  Reward the good actors by eating organic or by buying lumber that is Forest Stewardship Certified (FSC) and not taken through illegal logging.

Global citizens appreciate how what happens in one part of the world affects another. Like the monarch butterflies, they go beyond borders. May the populations of both increase!

⊂∫⊃

Experience the movement of the monarch butterfly and learn more about the mysteries surrounding them in this new video from WWF. Hear about the challenges ahead from Professor Chip Taylor, who also directs MonarchWatch.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

A Tale of Love Locks—Can Love Conquer All?

by Meredith Mullins on February 9, 2015

Red heart in maze of Paris love locks showing romance in Paris and answering the question Can Love Conquer All (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

So many ways to say “I love you”
© Meredith Mullins

Romantic Paris: A Valentine’s Day Parable

Once upon a time, there was a city of light known as the most romantic city on Earth. Paris opened its heart to lovers around the world. Romance in Paris was a part of life.

Couples strolled the banks of the Seine arm in arm, kissed in the secret (and not-so-secret) corners of the well-tended gardens, and paused to embrace on the graceful bridges.

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