Anti-Terrorist Fashion

With the Taliban hovering in the background and located just two hours from al- Qaida headquarters, Pakistan hosted its first fashion week in the cosmopolitan city of Karachi last week. It might seem like a frivolous choice at a time when violence and religious oppression affects most of the country but I think its a signal of bravery and hope to Pakistan's women. "This is our gesture of defiance to the Taliban," said CEO of Fashion Week Pakistan, Ayesha Tammy Haq. Although the fashion show displayed traditional Pakistani tunics and veils, bared shoulders, legs and midriffs were also on view. The event had been re-scheduled twice because of violence and security concerns and some models admitted that they were afraid of Islamic militant attacks but they strutted down the runways nonetheless.



Showcasing a mix of traditional Pakistani influences and contemporary style, Pakistan's top designers demonstrated the vibrant culture that's too often overshadowed by political upheaval. Most of the designs, like the fashions in Western shows, were too outrageous for Pakistani women to actually wear but they represented a broad spectrum of freedom and choice for the future.

London Love and Thornton's Toffee

I love London. The energy, the quirkiness, the music, the markets, excite me. I never sleep when I visit, there's always something happening and some place to be. I also rarely eat when I'm there. If there's no curry shop or Jamaican eatery nearby, forget it. British food is my least favorite thing about London. You can only eat fish-n-chips and do high tea so many times before you crave real food. And well, there really is none. There's a saying that British colonialists really weren't trying to to take over all those countries, they were just looking for a good meal. On my first trip to London, I ate maybe once a day, usually scones or fish n-chips. I never saw much food that looked appetizing to me. Then at the end of my visit, I discovered Thornton's toffee. My discriminating sweet tooth went wild. I can not explain the joy, the chewy, rich, deliciousness of that experience. Forget food, I could live on a good batch of Thornton's toffee for weeks. The next time I visited London, the first thing I did was stock up on Thornton's toffee. Unfortunately, despite its richness, it doesn't last very long with me. I had friends mail me supplies. I pestered anyone going near London to bring me back a box.



When friends grew weary of my obsession, I discovered Thornton's online and ordered twice a year, at ridiculous prices but it was worth it. That's how I've survived over the years. What passes for English toffee in the U.S. is nonsense. It's upsetting to even look at the hard slabs of sugar that's supposed to be toffee here. Proper toffee is chewy, even after it hardens. Since the euro-dollar conversion rate has grown even more ridiculous, not to mention the weeks I have to wait for a shipment, I've discovered the British Food Shop, based in California. Now I can order anytime and not worry about import costs and long waits. Last week, I ordered three bags of Thornton's toffee and I have it today. Just one bite takes me back to strolling through Camden Market or watching the street performers on Piccadilly Circus. For me, Thornton's toffee from London beat's Laduree macaroon's from Paris or Mozartkugeln chocolate from Salzburg. What's your favorite travel sweet?

Blues From The Blue Men

Last week, half of my CD tower collapsed. It covers an entire wall and holds hundreds of my lovingly collected CDs. The CDs crashed to the floor. Some are cracked, some are scratched. To say that I'm sad about it is an understatement. I haven't been able to deal with it at all. I just look at the piles of music and turn away because I can't bear to go through them and see what I've lost. Today I realized that it was the left side of the case that collapsed. This means that all of my American music genres--blues, jazz, rock, soul and hip hop are in piles on the floor. My global music--Latin, reggae, soca, calypso, African, Celtic and everything in between, rests safely on shelves in the other half of the tower. I haven't figured out what this means but for now it means that I only have access to my global music.

The feeling of loss and regret that hovers over me has created a hankering for the blues. I can't reach for B.B. or Buddy or John Lee but I can listen to Tinariwen. As a group of Tuaregs from Mali, they translate the feeling of personal longing and nostalgia like nobody else outside of the Mississippi Delta. Tuaregs are a nomadic ethnic group that have been forced out of their Sahara Desert region and nomadic lifestyle because of drought, war and oppression.

Covered in sweeping, indigo –dyed, (hence the name blue men) robes that obscure their faces, Tuaregs have existed since antiquity. For centuries, they have crossed the Sahara desert that runs across northwest Africa and established a rich culture noted for military ability, silver and gold craftsmanship, and veiled men instead of women. Political turmoil related to drought and government apathy, led to fierce Tuareg rebellions in Mali and Niger during the 90s. The uprisings created a community of exiled Tuaregs, separated for the first time from the desert culture that had sustained them from the beginning.

Tinaiwren (which means desert in plural) was created as a response to this separation. The six-member group of exiled Tuaregs formed in Algeria in 1979, driven by the need to express the realities of life in exile. Their repertoire includes a raw, rolling, sound that captures the pain of their vanishing culture and their hope for the future. These Sahara songs are dominated by pure electric guitar riffs, spare percussion and moody vocals, which echo American blues with uncanny clarity. This isn't mere coincidence however, since the origins of the blues can be traced back to the region around the Niger River, where it turns south after flowing through the desert and towards the coast of Nigeria. It's an area where the Tuaregs have lived for centuries, so this blues legacy is as much a part of their culture as camels, robes and sand dunes.

Tinariwen just released their third album, Imidiwan:Companions (World Village. It's filled with the feeling of assuf, which loosely translates to the blues. Despite the association with sadness, blues is also about rebellion and revolution. All the best blues artists, from Robert Johnson to Koko Taylor, defied society and expectations to play the blues and push for change. Tinariwen continues that tradition and I'll be listening to them as I go through my CDs and face the changes I'll have to make:

Top 5 Most Beautiful Beaches

Because its cold, rainy and dreary in Chicago and because I live close to arctic winds and far, far, away from paradise, I've been contemplating the most beautiful beaches I've ever visited. My criteria for beauty doesn't just involve physical attractiveness. I also consider the clarity of the water, color and texture of sand and if there are distinguishing cultural indicators like music, food or dress. Using those requirements, here are my top five most beautiful beaches:



1. St. Lucia
Of course. From the warm, crystalline water to the sweep of the Pitons overlooking powdery stretches of beach, St. Lucia comes as close to Eden as I've ever seen.



2. Barbuda
You've just never experienced paradise until you've laid on a pink sand beach. Tiny Barbuda boasts a stunning combination of turquoise water and pink sands. The sand is so dazzling that I keep glass bottles of it all over my house.



3. Bahia
Rio may claim the fame and glitz but the beaches in Bahia, south of Salvador, are known to be the best in Brazil. My fave is Boipeba, where you can drink fresh coconut water and catch capoeiristas practicing.



4. Jamaica
Jamaica is covered with lovely beaches but to escape hordes of tourists, the south coast and Treasure Beach supplies the best experience. This quaint fishing village is famous for its black sands and fresh seafood grilled right on the beach.



5. St. John, USVI
St. John's natural treasures are legendary and Honeymoon Beach consistently tops lists for the world's most beautiful. Small and not accessible by car, Honeymoon Beach unfolds with pearly white sand shaded by lush sea grape trees.

Partying with the Mocko Jumbies

I love mocko jumbies. I think one of the reasons that I love them so much is that they always represent a party of some kind. In Caribbean culture, these masked, colorfully-costumed stilt walkers typically appear at carnival celebrations or other festivities. You'll find them on most English-speaking islands, where these figures can be traced back to traditional West African rituals where they represented spiritual seers and protectors of the village. I bought the fanciful mocko jumbie sketch above from artist Judith King in St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands. It enlivens my hallway with its playful spirit.



In May, the U.S. Virgin Islands unveiled their new logo and I thought it was particularly fitting that the symbol is a mocko jumbie. On St. Croix, St. Thomas and St.John, mocko jumbies pop up everywhere,from neighborhood jump ups to beauty pageants. Below, a crew of mocko jumbies get ready to parade in St. John.



Watching mocko jumbies dance and clown is an entertaining experience because it takes a lot of skill to balance on towering stilts and dance to pumping rhythms at the same time. The mocko jumbies below showcase the deftness required:

My Favorite Views

I'm an island girl and a city girl but no matter where I am, I love being near the water. In St. Lucia, that's easy of course. My all time favorite view is the gorgeous sweep of the Caribbean Sea with the Pitons looming over it. That's the dreamiest view that I've ever witnessed. When I'm in my hometown, the view of the Chicago River with Marina City (the round building) filling the skyline always energizes me. What's your favorite view?

A Top Chef Master's Meal

What's a meal created by a top chef master taste like? Does it transcend mere earthly dishes? Does it haunt your dreams and inspire drooling? I headed to Rick Bayless' newest restaurant creation Xoco, to discover the answer. You might have heard of Rick Bayless. He hosts some cooking shows. Wrote some cookbooks. Won a fancy top chef title. Known for his innovation with Mexican cuisine, Bayless' Xoco, (SHO-ko)which means "little sister" in Aztec slang, focuses on Mexican street food.



Now Rick likes to take his liberties with Mexican food. He whips up traditional dishes with flourishes and twists, to appeal to the American palate. His take on Mexican street food involves a small selection of tortas or sandwiches, caldos or soups and most importantly, freshy ground, hot chocolate and churros or fried dough.



Most of the ingredients are locally produced and organically grown.



My favorite part of the experience was drinking aguas frescas, fresh fruit juice in a wonderful hibiscus and lemongrass flavor.



The set up involves at least a 30 minute wait for a table number and then ordering your choices and paying up front. Hot chocolate and churros are handed over as you trot to your table, well before tortas arrive, which is a very dangerous situation for me.



I ordered the milanesa, a crispy battered chicken sandwich with artisan jack cheese, pickled jalapenos and a tomatillo-avocado dipping sauce. My dining mates, Donna, my former Travelmuse editor and fellow travel writer Cindy, ordered the cochinita pibil or suckling pig and Gunthorp chicken tortas, respectively. We also chose chips and salsa to accompany the feast. Perhaps my first hint that maybe I wouldn't be transported to top chef heaven was a glimpse of the chips. I take my chips and salsa very seriously. For me, a good, homemade, tortilla chip displays enough heft and texture to supply a filling meal coupled with spicy, flavorful salsa. Alas, that's not what I got. The chips were suspiciously flimsy and over salted and the salsa was weak and watery. The sandwich was okay. It didn't taste even vaguely like any torta I've eaten in Mexico but it wasn't bad. For $9 and a 30-minute wait, I expected something closer to mind-blowing than not bad.



The churros also were less than spectacular. They weren't too greasy and were covered with generous sprinklings of sugar and cinnamon but they didn't offer the warm, chewy goodness I expected. The hot chocolate, about which I'm also very particular, was the biggest let down. I ordered the Aztec, which is my favorite blend of dark chocolate with chile. I didn't think the chile was spicy enough or the chocolate rich enough. Donna and Cindy, however, loved everything they tasted. Were my expectations too high? Maybe. I was really thinking that Xoco would provide some sense of authentic Mexican street food, no matter how re-interpreted. I also thought that a top chef master's meal would outdo or at least come close to any great dining experience that I'd had. I suppose even rock star chefs are only human. I still had a great time at Xoco, it's a small and cozy place with a welcoming staff. Despite my journalistic inhibitions, it didn't stop us from harassing the poor man for a photo while he tried to cook in his open kitchen. Over-hyped or not, he's still Chicago's top chef master.