Mr. Rogers Trail

2018 marked the 50th anniversary of “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” and after watching a documentary about him, I discovered that the show was filmed in Pittsburgh. I stumbled across the “Fred Rogers Trail” that the PA Tourism Council had put together, and a road trip with my friend Kara was born. On the way there, we were able to stop by the Flight 93 Memorial. The approach is completely different than New York or DC’s Memorial and is still being created. In addition to telling the stories of the passengers, what I loved about it was the intention to turn that scarred land (a former open pit mine) into a place of healing. The meadow was blooming, memorial trees were being planted, and it had a feeling of peace and renewal.

The "Tower of Voices" being installed at the Flight 93 Memorial

Mr. Rogers was apparently very health-conscious, but we couldn’t resist stopping for lunch at a place called The Fat Squirrel that offered a waffle made of mac and cheese and was delicious.

Our first official stops on the “trail” were in the town of Latrobe, his birthplace. Although he was an ordained Presbyterian minister, Saint Vincent College (which is Roman Catholic) is home to the Fred Rogers Center and has a free exhibit about the show including some of the props and his cardigans. It again impressed me to see how intentional he was in what he was teaching and the celebrities that appeared on his show. I also thought it was sweet that his mom knit some of those cardigans.

Fred Rogers Center at St. Johns College in Latrobe, PA

The Neighborhood Trolley

From there we drove by the cemetery to see his family crypt where he’s buried before visiting the downtown sites including his childhood home, the church he attended, and Latrobe’s other claim to fame: the birthplace of the banana split. The drugstore where this happened is no longer standing, but a nearby ice cream parlor served us an authentic version of the dish (who knew pineapple topping was a part of it?) topped with a little American flag; I felt very patriotic while enjoying it.

Site of the banana split's birthplace

The original banana split

Before leaving Latrobe, we visited the life-size statue of Mr. Rogers and I donned my sneakers and cardigan for the occasion. By the time we got to our hotel, we were too tired and stuffed to worry much about dinner.

Won't you be my neighbor?

The next day, we drove to Pittsburgh under a clear sky and had perfect weather after they’d had days of rain. We started our visit with a trip up Duquesne Incline with great views overlooking the downtown and the closest we’d get to riding a trolley.

Duquesne Incline

From there we visited the Senator John Heinz History Center, a converted ice storage building that was an impressive museum about all things Pittsburgh, including more Mr. Rogers artifacts.

King Friday's castle

The set of "Mr. Rogers Neighborhood" at the Heinz Museum

I had no idea so many inventors also came from Pittsburgh, and the Heinz exhibit was very engaging (if not appetite-inducing). For all the creativity, one thing that really impressed me was their use of the stairwell. They turned it into an exhibit on health, which certain numbered steps highlighting years of sports milestones or jersey numbers of famous athletes. For each flight of stairs there was a stamp to collect, and at the end you could show all the stamps for a free prize: a little ketchup bottle pin that was a replica of a Heinz marketing scheme at the World’s Fair.

All those stairs made me hungry, and a short walk away was a famous institution: Primanti Bros. They’ve been serving huge sandwiches since 1933 that were influenced by coalminers who didn’t want to get their food dirty, so the sandwiches come wrapped in paper and include what would normally be sides in the sandwich, including French fries and coleslaw. 

A bit of the line to get in

Enjoying our sandwiches

After lunch we started a leisurely stroll along the riverside to Fort Pitt and were grateful recent floodwaters had receded as we saw debris indicating how high it had recently been. Fort Pitt was an unexpected stop, but it helped me appreciate the historical significance of Pittsburgh and gave us a chance to work off all the delicious food we’d been enjoying. From there it was a quick jaunt across a bridge to visit the "Tribute to Children" statue next to the Steelers stadium and enjoy more views along the river.

The destination of our riverside hike: the "Tribute to Children" statue

On the walk back to the car we took a detour to the Milk Shake Factory, recommended by a local at the Fort Pitt museum and worth the hype.

Good to the last slurp

Back in the car, we drove to a crowded, quirky, and interesting place called “Bicycle Heaven”. I don’t think I’d ever considered how many types of bikes there are, but it was fun to see my bike’s model included in the collection, along with one of the bikes from “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure.”

Bicycle Heaven (every room was this crowded)

For dinner we went with the hotel’s suggestion and visited “The Church Brew Works”, which is pretty much how it sounds. It was surprising to see the beer tanks where the altar used to be and to sit on old pews, but the pierogies were delicious and the ambiance was fun.

View from my seat The Church Brew Works

On the drive home we stopped at Buttermilk Falls Natural Area, which had been on land owned by Mr. Rogers’ grandfather and where he’d spent time swimming and exploring as a boy. It was a short walk to a small but lovely waterfall that we practically had to ourselves, and a nice calm before dealing with traffic on the drive back.

Buttermilk Falls Natural Area

I didn’t know what to expect, but Pittsburgh was cleaner, friendlier, and more affordable than some of the other big cities in the region, and I hope to return someday.      

California Conferences, Cottages, and Castles

I’ve been fortunate to attend back-to-back work conferences in San Diego and Pacific Grove a few times, but several things made this year special. In San Diego, in addition to geeking out and learning new skills, I represented my organization on a panel as part of the conference’s science summit. My initial concern was what to wear as a female scientist (too cute= not credible), followed by what to say to a crowd like that. In the end, it was all fine. I also enjoyed going on my first dates through Mutual, an LDS dating app—who knew San Diego had the reverse gender ratio of everywhere else in the Church?

One of the signs I'm with my people

Our panel discussion; my follow-up question: "What gives you hope?"

The conference party was held at the Prado

After a weekend with my family, I drove up to Pacific Grove in a cute rental car. The drive was only slightly longer than flying (with drives times to/from airport), and it made it easier for me to visit our family graves in the Pacific Grove city cemetery to pay my respect. That conference was also great, and it was a highlight to interact with my fellow board members in person after all the conference calls, email chains, etc. through the year.

Flower arranging on the trunk of the rental car.

My grandparents' graves

The beach at Asilomar

SCGIS Board

On the last day, I learned my cousin Jenn was in town with her family on vacation, and we had a delightful afternoon exploring Carmel-by-the-Sea together that included a short walking tour of its cottages. They all seemed so modest, but the price tags tell a different story. 

One of my favorite cottages

Cousins!

My other stroke of luck was the early re-opening of PCH, allowing for a direct and scenic drive to my next stop. It was the usual cloudy/foggy mix, but when the clouds broke the views were stunning. I can also see how easily I’d get carsick under other circumstances.

One of the gorgeous stops along Route 1

It was well after dark when I arrived in San Simeon, and I had no problem getting an early bedtime for an early start the next day. The idea of Hearst Castle had always intrigued me but seeing it in person I was hooked! The architecture was amazing, and it was cool to think the same woman (Julia Morgan) had designed both this place and Asilomar where I had just stayed. It was easy to picture all the celebrities that had stayed there over the years, and I began to wish they still offered the opportunity. The attention to detail was incredible, the gardens were stunning, as were the artifacts.

View from the entrance to the grounds

In front of Casa Grande

Side view of Casa Grande

One of the guest cottages

Side porch of the one of the cottages

View from one of the cottages

View of another cottage

The Celestial Bedroom in one of Casa Grande's towers

A split-level guest suite

Library

View from one of the bedrooms

Detail of one of the ceilings Mr. Hearst collected (who collects ceilings?!)

Another ceiling he collected and Persian mosaics in the Billiard Room

Their attention to detail extended to designing the tile for these stairs in the courtyard.

The Roman Pool's exquisite mosaics

Soon enough it was time to continue the drive home. I’d intended another stop along the coast at a beach near Point Conception, but timing and my fuel tank were not in my favor. Still, the drive was lovely and I was grateful for audiobooks for company. These conferences are never a guarantee but I hope to attend them again.

Timor-Leste

“Where?” was the universal response when I tried to explain where I’d been. And I don’t blame them, Timor-Leste (aka East Timor) only became a country while I was in college and it’s not a tourism hotspot, though hopefully it can be someday. As someone who likes to plan (perhaps excessively) for a trip to a new place, a last-minute work trip there was not ideal. Especially with a trip home already planned for my 20^th high school reunion that would be adjacent to it. I didn’t have time I wanted to prepare my training materials, barely had time to get malaria meds, and in the face of the unknown packed far more outfits than needed to be prepared for every possible situation across two completely different trips. But there we were, sitting on a plane one week later heading to one of the newest countries in the world.

Map of Timor-Leste

A brief snapshot of Timor-Leste: it’s the eastern half plus an enclave of the island of Timur and a former Portuguese colony, almost surrounded by Indonesia and just north of Australia. They were granted independence in the 1970’s only to have Indonesia immediately invade and occupy it for decades. In the 1990’s, Indonesia faced international pressure to permit them a referendum on independence. After they overwhelmingly voted yes, Indonesia withdrew—but not without a “scorched earth” souvenir. Today it still struggles but has a lot of potential, and a lot of international aid. As a result of its Portuguese heritage, it’s mostly Catholic (~95%), the official languages are now Portuguese and the local language Tetum, and its political system is modeled after Portugal’s (this fact plays into my trip). The capital is Dili, which is on the coast, and most of the country’s terrain is pretty rugged. Fun fact: “Timur” means “east” in Indonesian and “Leste” is “east” in Portuguese, so the country’s name literally translates to “east east” in English. There are other islands just east of Timur so I’m not sure how they settled on that name, but I digress.

The flights themselves were an experience, as we flew Emirates via Dubai and Bali for about 24 hours—not including layovers. It was my first time on the airline, and little touches like scented lotion in the bathroom and a vast array of media to pass the time on long flights made it feel a little fancier—glimpsing the water element at the top of the stairs leading to first class, I can only imagine what that was like. I tried to pace myself on the movies, since the flights back would be even longer, and even tried to do some work by reading a technical manual about a new software I want to learn. I was fine during movies, but anything too mentally taxing, especially in a darkened plane, resulted in a nap that should’ve been less of a surprise.

We left DC on a Friday morning and arrived in Timor-Leste Sunday afternoon after an overnight in Bali, fighting jetlag with a stroll in downtown Dili in the late afternoon heat. Most of the locals also appeared to be out enjoying their sabbath since most shops and businesses are closed on Sundays. Dili is a narrow city along the coast, squeezed between steep mountains and the ocean and with its own Christo Rei statue on a peak at one edge of town just like Rio de Janeiro. Several people were out enjoying a waterfront park that ended at a soccer field, and further down we saw the locals enjoying a beachside pool hall. Men were selling the day’s catch, either from small wooden carts or strung from a wooden pole carried on their shoulders. The fruit market had a dozen vendors selling mostly the same items, and I couldn’t resist going back to the hotel with a few fresh passion fruit.

Fish vendor

The next day we hit the ground running with a brief stop at the CI office before heading to the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries to begin our training. Along the way we learned that because the ruling party couldn’t form a coalition, the country was holding a parliamentary election the coming Saturday. They still vote by going in person to where they’re registered, and many people living in Dili still vote in the villages they’re from, which can be up to four hours away. To accommodate this (and potentially diffuse a contentious environment), everyone would get the Friday before the election off, and all government employees also got Thursday and Monday off. This meant that our ten-day training would now be seven days, and since I would be leaving early for my reunion I’d only be there for four of them. A bit of a disappointing surprise after such long flights, but we tried to make the most of it. Part of this trip was to understand the capacity and training needs of the government ministries, and it was a good thing we were flexible. Despite announcements of this course being geared toward intermediate users, we had some participants with no previous experience that for diplomatic reasons (and because their ministries desperately needed the skills) were still included. To boot, not everyone had the proprietary GIS software but those that did wanted more training in it. As a result, we ended up teaching an introductory course using both the proprietary software and freeware. Just as they all speak more than one language, they’re now also GIS bilingual. Our local colleague was invaluable, not just for translating but for providing local environmental examples and applications for our work. By the time I left, several were just starting to catch a glimpse of its potential, and I look forward to supporting them remotely in the coming months as they start to use their new skills.

Testing field data collection on mobile devices

Our training group

It was interesting to be there during the campaign, and I was jealous to learn that they’re only allowed to campaign for 30 days (if only our election seasons were that short!). The ministry where we were teaching was along a main road to a stadium, and both Tuesday and Wednesday two of the biggest coalitions held rallies there that resulted in parades past our office. It was fun to watch on our lunch breaks, but distracting while attempting to teach. The most frustrating part was when several of the participants decided to listen to Wednesday’s rally on their phones as I was trying to teach, so we’d have to slow down and repeat what they willfully missed. But on the whole, it was an interesting experience. The night before they also held a mass and candlelit rally for peace and unity in the square near our hotel, and I couldn’t help but think that my own country could use a little more of that.

On the way to a rally

Pre-election candlelight mass

Between my limited time there and the election, opportunities to see the country were limited and practically discouraged. On Saturday we were unable to find a taxi or minibus as all the drivers had gone home to vote, so we walked to the Christo Rei statue with the plan to visit a beach on the way back. It didn’t look that far, but in the end we walked over three miles before climbing up hundreds of steps to the statue (keep in mind, I’m still recovering from knee surgery). The view was gorgeous, though, and we met a handful of fellow tourists on the climb.

Sign at the beach where we went swimming, with the statue on the hill behind

Christo Rei statue

Max and I near the top

The beaches were stunning and enjoyed by a handful of locals, but like the rest of the city also reflected the challenges of being a developing country. It looked as if they’re still figuring out what to do about trash, especially when it comes to plastic. I’d seen a trash collection area down the street from our hotel which they occasionally set ablaze, and while walking back from dinner one evening saw scavengers looking for scrap metal. But the topaz waters and white sand that afternoon were interrupted by broken glass and the occasional bit of floating plastic. After a quick swim we managed to find a place that was open for a late lunch. We must have looked pitiful, because the owner offered to drive us back to our hotel and spare us the return hike.

The beach’s litter would only be topped by our field visit to the park used the previous week for the campaign rallies, which was also the site of a mass held during Pope John Paul II’s visit several years before. It was full of lovely shade trees, which our colleague explained was the result of a program during Indonesian occupation where government staff were assigned a tree to maintain, and its care would actually be a part of their performance reviews! But underneath the trees was litter everywhere, more than I’ve seen in other places I’ve visited. Our participants seemed unfazed by it so I assume that’s sadly typical in that area, or at least after big events. Speaking of the pope, there’s a giant statue of him on a nearby hill overlooking the park and the ocean that commemorates his visit, a bookend to pair with Christo Rei. It was from there I got to try to my hand at flying Max’s drone on Friday when everything was closed.

At the other end of the coastline, John Paul II

Max and Raimundo fly their drone in the pope's shadow

Our escape from the litter and a highlight of my trip was chartering a boat to Arturo Island, not far from Timor. It may be close, but because these islands are on tectonic plate boundaries the water between them is deep and encourages migration patterns, including pilot whales. The boat ride was a little over an hour, during which we saw a small pod of pilot whales. Max prefers hiking to diving, so we dropped him off at a village on the island and motored to our first spot, Adara Bay and Walls. I’m still a newbie when it comes to diving and was grateful for the one-on-one dives I had with the guide in this incredible place. The visibility was fantastic, and the site included a wall that continued down into a distant deep blue. Normally I’m focused on all the bright, colorful fish and this place certainly didn’t disappoint, but the corals were equally showstoppers. The variety of shapes and colors looked like something Dr. Suess could’ve created, and I saw almost no signs of bleaching that affect corals almost everywhere else I’ve been. After the first dive we picked up Max and had lunch on the boat before heading to our second dive site, Kitali. Instead of a wall this was along a flat bottom in water so clear that other than distance, snorkeling would’ve been enough. Unfortunately my ears had difficulty equalizing so this wasn’t as enjoyable, but it was still very impressive. The boat ride back across the channel was pretty choppy for a boat this size, and in hindsight I’m thinking the nausea was amplified by letting myself get dehydrated (hard to remember when you’re underwater). Let’s just say we survived and were fine, and even saw more pilot whales, but I was very grateful to be back on land at the end of the day. Despite the effort it takes to get here, I can see this diving gem becoming more popular and I hope the villages around it will benefit when that happens.

Our dive site

My "salty" colleagues gave me this towel, and I was excited to use it in its proper home.

I wasn’t ready to leave so soon after arriving, but was grateful for all the small glimpses I had into this country’s history and culture; they have many challenges ahead but I’m optimistic for them.

Coconut water vendor in Dili

One of the prettiest churches in Dili

Entrance to the governor's mansion

One of the best meals on my trip; this fish is about as fresh and local as it gets

This statue commemorates one of their freedom fighters

Dancers practicing at a cultural center in Dili

Our CI colleagues gifted us traditional weaving as a farewell gift

The return journey included a longer layover in Bali, and our previous stopover there helped me make the most of it. While the island is small, its recent surge in popularity has made its traffic notorious so my colleagues advised me to not leave the peninsula the airport was on. As it was, the narrow roads were packed with taxis and tourists on mopeds. My first stop was Uluwatu, an ancient Hindu temple complex overlooking the coast. The setting was as lovely as the architecture, and all their cautions about the monkeys were well-founded. Almost immediately after entering the grounds, I saw a monkey leap across the path and steal the sunglasses off a woman’s head, only relinquishing it when a tour guide bribed it with slices of watermelon. The baby monkeys were cute, but I made sure to keep my sunglasses hidden in my pockets or under my sarong after that.

Naive tourists getting a little too friendly with the monkeys--don't be fooled!

The temple complex stretches along the coastline

Enjoying a monkey-free spot

Some of the intricate carvings at Uluwatu

Before returning to the airport I made a brief stop at one of their public beaches, which required hiking down a steep staircase carved into the dark gray limestone cliffs. I was rewarded with white sand, tide pools, and few tourists for some calm, warm, and serene moments.

Local fisherman

Looking back from the tide pools

I arrived back at the airport hotel with enough time to eat, shower, and enjoy laying flat on the poolside chairs before commencing the long-haul flights back to the US via Dubai. I’ve heard there are a handful of flights over 17 hours, but at 16 ½ hours the Dubai-LAX flight is one of the longest I’ve even been on. I was excited to fly around the world on this trip, but as it turns out we flew northwest over the north pole and down. Otherwise, it was more comfortable seating, naps, meals, and movies. The time didn’t feel nearly as long as being stuck in rush hour traffic on the 405 ready to just be home. But all the hassle was worth it to have a few days with my family and the chance to attend my high school reunion and catch up with old friends.

GATE friends reunited

Choir and English friends