Wednesday, July 1st, 2009
CONNECTING FLIGHTS
The perfect travel moments occur when you put the guidebook away and really get to know the people and places you’re visiting
By Jeanette Hurt
“It was the best trip, ever.”
Maybe I said that after donning a wetsuit and getting in the water with dolphins at the Indianapolis Zoo.
I also said it after my husband and I took a detour from Toronto to the Niagara peninsula. We not only stayed at a beautiful cottage on the banks of Lake Ontario, but we also had our own dog for the night, as Polly, the bed-and-breakfast owner’s golden retriever, decided that to be made welcome, we needed to have her on our couch.
The same goes for a bike trip through Sonoma County, where we played bocce with one of the owners of Seghesio Family Vineyards, and glasses of zin in hand, we beat the opposing team by a landslide.
The thing is, I meant it, every time I said it, that those were the best vacations (ever). And I meant it when I said the same thing about a dozen other trips. At some point during each one, something pushed the vacation into “best ever” status. What makes a defining travel moment? What transforms a simple jaunt into a life-changing experience?
What made the difference was that on each of these journeys, I found a connection—whether it was with a person or place (or animal)—that went deeper than on other trips. So profound were these connections that they remain suspended in my mind. I can still feel the hard-boiled egg texture of a dolphin’s fin; I can still smell the berry and peppery aromas of the San Lorenzo zinfandel; I can still picture Polly rolling over on her back for a belly rub.
These happenstance adventures got me think-ing—what if I could plan this kind of connection? Are there travel opportunities that promote these types of experiences? Would they have the same effect if they weren’t spontaneous?
While on a cherry blossom and garden tour in Macon, Ga., I serendipitously met a couple involved in two organizations that foster individual and group connections all over the globe: Friendship Force and U.S. Servas. Richard “Dick” George, a master gardener, whose wife, Mary “Rusty” George, served as local president of the Macon Friendship Force chapter, believes that organizations like Friendship Force and U.S. Servas address what it means to be a traveler.
“[These groups] are about building relationships with people who live where you travel,” Dick said.
Both Friendship Force and Servas set up travel exchanges for groups and individuals, respectively. I planned a Friendship Force visit to Phoenix with a group of Russian visitors and arranged two home-stays in the heart of New York City with Servas.
I decided that both of these organizations had the right idea: In order to find the kinds of connections and moments I was after, I needed to immerse myself in a different way of life—to “live” the destination and see it from the inside out.
While I was at it, I decided that I wanted a religious experience, so I also signed up for a monastic retreat. And to get my hands dirty, I arranged to work on an organic sheep farm and creamery.
Four distinct travel experiences in two weeks. Let the immersion begin.
MONASTIC RETREAT
At St. Benedict’s Abbey at Benet Lake (benetlake.org), in Kenosha, Wis., under the mandate of St. Benedict—the founder of Western Christian monasticism—visitors are “to be received as Christ.” Originally, all guests had their feet washed the way Christ washed his disciples’ feet at the Last Supper.
While that particular tradition is no longer practiced, retreat directors Friar Leo Ryska, O.S.B. and Denise Moczulewski still welcome guests in the same spirit of goodwill and hospitality that St. Benedict encouraged.
Set against the shores of Benet Lake, lush grass, foliage and flowers frame the monastery, which was built in the early 1950s as a place for Benedictine monks to pray and work. Retreatants are invited to participate in the activities of the monastery “as much or as little as they would like,” Friar Leo says.
The evening of my arrival, I attend mass in the abbey church, followed by vespers (traditional evening prayers) performed by a dozen monks and two women from the community.
Despite my off-key—yet earnest—attempts at singing along, after a hearty meatloaf dinner, Friar Leo invites me along to a lecture on Abraham Lincoln at the Civil War Museum in Kenosha. Because I’m driving, he directs me to the monastery’s private filling station. I tell him he doesn’t have to fill up the tank, but he insists.
Along the way, with cups of tea in our hands and homemade pecan bread on our laps, I learn about his journey as a monk—and we compare notes about our experiences in Italy (his) and Spain (mine). While our backgrounds can’t be more different, I’m surprised at how much we actually do have in common.
The next morning, after a baked apple pancake breakfast and morning prayers, I had planned to find some peaceful solitude in one of the monastery’s many nooks and crannies. After all, this—not conversation—is what brings monks and retreatants alike to secluded locations hidden in the woods.
Searching for a good spot for quiet reflection, I wander the grounds, taking in the lake’s stillness, and admire the carefully groomed greenery (the monks are responsible for the maintenance of the grounds). Mature trees grace the landscape, with patches of daffodils between them. I discover a grotto with a statue of the Virgin Mary along with a tree stump covered with crosses and the Greek symbols for Alpha and Omega, adjacent to the lake. An outdoor chapel, adorned with the stations of the cross, is perfect.
I come to realize, though, that I am able to find peace almost anywhere. This is reinforced when I walk down the hall away from my room to check out; I glance at a bulletin board upon which is posted the wisdom of St. Teresa of Avila: “God strolls amidst the pots and pans.” Amen.
FRIENDSHIP FORCE
Friendship Force began in 1977 under the direction of founder Wayne Smith, with the idea that staying in someone’s living room or guest room allows for deep cross-cultural understanding. Differences are celebrated and explained, destinations are explored and friendships are formed. It becomes easier for cultures to discover their common humanity, bringing the world closer to peace.
In 1992, Congressman Ed Jenkins (Ga. 9th district) nominated Friendship Force for the Nobel Peace prize, saying: “There is evidence and testimony that Friendship Force, while devoid of actual political activity, has had an influence on the collapse of the Berlin Wall, the advance of democracy in the former Soviet Union and the promotion of peaceful solutions to problems in the Middle East and China.”
According to Steve Bilovesky, a Friendship Force member in Phoenix, “Smith realized that Americans traveled, but they didn’t experience the culture of the places they visited. The idea was that you were going to meet people, not places.”
The initial trips involved groups that engaged in reciprocal international exchanges. Today, they don’t have to be reciprocal, and while many visits are international, clubs also arrange domestic exchanges within the U.S.
For my Friendship Force experience, I join a group of 10 “ambassadors” from St. Petersburg, Russia on their visit to Phoenix, where they are being hosted by the Friendship Force Club of Central Arizona. Martina Koch picks me up—along with Alexander Nazarenko, a lawyer who speaks only Russian and German—at the Phoenix airport and welcomes us into her home. Martina’s 8-month-old puppy, Patches, jumps into my lap as soon as I set my bags down in my bedroom, which is normally Martina’s quilting room. The bed is topped by a quilt she sewed herself.
The day after our arrival, all of the Russians and their Friendship Force Club hosts meet up for a trip to the Desert Botanical Gardens and the Heard Museum, two quintessential Phoenix attractions. At the gardens, I walk around with Alexander, and before the afternoon is over, I learn two Russian words: priviat (“hello”), and basilic (“basil”).
But it isn’t until the second night, when Martina, Alexander and I join Irina Pivovarova and Natalia Turygina and her son Fedor for dinner at the house of Steve and Pat Bilovesky, that real fellowship begins.
“The host dinners are really where you get to know each other,” Martina says. “It’s surprising just how fast you become friends.” These friendships are deep and long lasting: When her husband Glenn passed away, Martina received condolences and calls from around the globe.
Indeed, relaxing over a dinner of grilled flank steak and salad, our tongues begin to loosen (Fedor does the translating for Alexander). Natalia recalls seeing the Grand Canyon on her first trip to the U.S.; Fedor tells us about his plans for majoring in computer science in college; the hosts talk about their grandchildren; and we all talk about our pets.
They came from 5,600 miles away—but it’s amazing how much we have in common.
U.S. SERVAS
Founded by Bob Luitweiler, along with a small group of pacifists based in the UK, Servas has been known by several monikers, including Peacebuilders, Work-Study-Travel and Open Doors, before organizers settled on the name, which means “we serve” in Esperanto. Like Friendship Force, their lofty objective was to prevent war and build stronger foundations for peace. The bricks of such a foundation could only come from individual relationships, they decided.
To form these bricks, they established a method of traveling and staying in people’s homes, which they called “open door” traveling. The belief was that if you open your door to strangers, they no longer remain strangers, and you’re also opening a door to the possibility of understanding and friendship. Today, more than 15,000 member hosts open their doors in 135 countries (each member country has its own Servas organization).
To better understand how Servas works, I arrange to stay with two host families in New York City: Bethene Trexel and her husband, Jon Tenney, and Carole Wagner and her husband, Al Schwendtner.
On my first evening in Manhattan, fueled by a delicious home-cooked dinner of steak and arugula (a recipe Jon picked up on a Servas stay in Tuscany), conversation goes into the wee hours. Jon and Bethene are from Connecticut and Iowa, respectively. Both have traveled extensively—Bethene lived in Japan for a time—and have no shortage of praise for their adopted hometown, which they deem “the greatest city in the world.” Before turning in, they give me some tips for the rest of my stay in New York.
The next morning, after a breakfast of matzoh brie, Bethene walks me to the subway on her way to work. After learning that I’m a foodie, she directs me to the Union Square farmers market, where I eat a fresh apple and some hot cider from an upstate New York farmer, and splurge on a ginger muffin top. Soon after, I find myself just outside Chinatown, less than a block from the East River, to meet my next New York City hosts at their apartment.
Later that night, over a dinner of delicious salmon and bok choy—and the Wisconsin Gouda I brought as a housewarming gift (some of the greatest exchanges, I am pleased to discover, are culinary)—I learn that Carol used to work for Servas and got to know the founder.
“Bob [Luitweiler] had a certain vision for Servas, and it was not about travel,” Carole says. “It was about peace.”
But it is trust, I decide, that is the key to Luitweiler’s vision. “My sister has asked me how I can give strangers the keys to my home,” Carole says. “I figure, I spend an hour talking with them, I get to know them. If I sensed something funny, I wouldn’t give them the keys, but so far, I’ve never had to do that.” In handing over the keys, strangers have become friends—the world has grown smaller.
While this is happening, I find my own peace, right in the middle of one of the busiest places on Earth.
ORGANIC FARMING
The lambs start baa-ing as soon as I approach their pen to feed them milk from the farm’s Jersey cow. Most of them grab onto the bottle, but some don’t quite understand what’s happening, and I have to hold them, positioning the bottle in their mouths. My experience in brushing my reluctant terrier’s teeth comes in handy.
Mary and Dave Falk, of Love Tree Farmstead Cheese, a member of the World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms network (www.wwoof.org), in Grantsburg, Wis., are pleasantly surprised at my lamb-wrangling skills, as am I, though they snicker at the lack of forethought I gave wardrobe selection for the trip. With my V-neck T-shirt and thin cotton hoodie, I am dressed for yoga class, not a working farm. My hood, pockets and collar are filled with hay from lugging alfalfa bales to the rams and ewes. So this is why farmers wear rugged, pocketless plaid shirts.
The Falks first learned about WWOOFing (as it has come to be known) from Mary’s sister, who had been living at an Australian winery that was saved by WWOOFers during hard times. Started in 1971, WWOOF has become an international movement promoting sustainable lifestyles: Organic farmers will offer guests room and board in exchange for an agreed upon number of hours’ worth of work while they stay.
An urbanite by choice, I’ve lived most of my adult life in cities, but my grandfather grew up on a Wisconsin dairy farm, and my great-uncle ran a dairy farm in up-state New York. I’ve visited many farms across the United States—but there’s a difference between visiting and actually working on one.
The work feels natural, as if I have been doing it for much longer, and through it I feel more connected to Wisconsin’s agricultural heritage and to my own family’s heritage. It’s good to really see the tender care and hard work that goes into the dairy products we enjoy.
The next morning, after breakfasting on Mary’s buckwheat pancakes and homemade kefir, we walk through the woods, looking for morels. We don’t find any, but I am able to pick more than a peck of fiddlehead ferns, which, when tightly coiled, are perfect for eating.
When I return home, I prepare supper for my family, sautéing the fiddleheads and topping them with Mary’s award-winning sheep’s milk cheese.
It was, I tell them, the best trip ever.
JOIN THE FORCE
HOW IT WORKS: Friendship Force chapters (there are more than 300 of them worldwide) are chartered by Friendship Force International, which is located in Atlanta, Ga. Anyone can apply to participate in an exchange. There is plenty of useful information, including upcoming planned trips, on the Friendship Force Web site. Sample upcoming trips include: “Environmentally Friendly Eco-Exchange to Costa Rica”; “Hay River, Northwest Territories, Canada”; and “Humanitarian Library Project in Vietnam.”
SERVAS, WITH A SMILE
HOW IT WORKS: Prospective members have to be interviewed before they can travel or host, and travelers must send a letter of introduction before trips. Typically, a visit lasts two nights, and the traveler joins the host in everyday activities. This eliminates anyone intending to use Servas as a way to just obtain free lodging. ADVICE FOR TRAVELERS: It is not a written rule, but often, your host will make or take you out to dinner your first night, and you will treat them to dinner your second night.
THE FARM TEAM
IF WWOOF-ING IT ISN’T YOUR STYLE, GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY WITH THESE OTHER AGRITOURISM OPTIONS.
GRAPE ESCAPE
At the Hope-Merrill House in Sonoma County, Calif. (1.5 hours from San Francisco) guests can learn how to make wine. Three weekends each fall and each spring, they harvest and then blend and bottle wine with owners Cosette and Ron Scheiber.
CHEESE IT
At Rinconada Dairy, in beautiful San Luis Obispo County (3.5 hours from Los Angeles), guests can work in an organic garden, feed sheep and goats, help with milking, or just enjoy a game of petanque—all while staying at a rustic hacienda-style ranch house.
BACK AT THE RANCH
The Palmquist Farm is a working beef, buffalo, deer and tree farm with cottage-like accommodations in Brantwood, Wis. (3 hours from Green Bay), where guests can go hunting or explore the 800-acre Northwoods property.
A TOUCH OF TUSCANY
The Dublin Farm Bed & Breakfast in Dublin, Ga. (2 hours from Atlanta) is modeled after luxurious agriturismo experiences in Italy. There is less farm work to be done, but that doesn’t take away from how good all the locally sourced food tastes at the on-site restaurant.
