Croatia has over 1,200 islands, many historic cities and a long Mediterranean coastline. It has become a buzzing tourist destination in the decades, which has brought its own problems, like in any other mass tourism sites. 

Before Virtual Nomad took a long hiatus, we had the chance to celebrate a stop in Croatia which was not only immensely satisfying but also welcomed some very dear people to the Virtual Nomad community. I am blessed by several Croatian friends, some of whom live within a radius of 100 km from where I am and others who live in Croatia. So thank you beautiful friends MMP and AV in Sydney and AU in Zagreb for the company and the correspondence. 

But first, as always, food. 

A Croatian celebration

The celebration of Croatian cuisine happened in two parts; one was a joyful group lunch at the Croatian Club in Concord in Western Sydney, and the other, another lovely lunch of four at Croatian/Balkan restaurant The Balkan Butler in Surry Hills, central Sydney. Both were attended by my beautiful friend MMP who is of Croatian origin (and travels to Croatia every year) making this her first Virtual Nomad event (she did attend Côte d’Ivoire which came after Croatia but that is a minor detail). Also attending both was my beautiful friend L* who joined Virtual Nomad for the African Afternoon (but advised us regarding the Cambodia stop where her family is originally from). I cherish having both of them in my life.

But now to food.

The Croatian Club Lunch

We made our way to the Croatian club Sydney in Concord. Present are, as mentioned, MMP and her partner A* for their first ever Virtual Nomad stop, my dear friend L* and her daughter S* (seasoned Virtual Nomads), my partner JK, my son A (then 11) with his good friend and my daughter L (then 18) with four friends. It is a lunch of very interesting conversations, great food and country trivia by MMP. MMP is our resident Croatian and she guides us with food. She quizzed the young adults about Croatian facts and the winners, L (18) and A(12) won a prize. Overall we are 13 Virtual Nomads around the Croatian cuisine table for a wonderful, special night of food, culture and friendship. 

The Croatian Club states that its vision is “Bringing the community together and celebrating our history, ensuring the community grows stronger with each generation.” They “share the best of Australian-Croatian culture and create a welcoming space, where our culture can be experienced and celebrated, where families feel welcome.” And we did tremendously, once we all got in… as it is affiliated with a local RSL club, it is necessary to sign in, and there were a few struggles here. But once we do, the two young boys and the young adults enjoy chatting together at one end of the table, and that leaves my partner JK, beautiful friend MMP (of Croatian origin), her wonderful partner A*, my dear friend L* and me to chat and eat through the Croatian menu. 

As a starter, we get Lepinja, wood fired flatbread with roasted garlic butter and herbs. They are accompanied by potato wedges and Blitva, a must in Croatian cuisine. Blitva is a traditional Croatian dish made of Swiss chard (whose local name is Blitva) and potatoes, abundant olive oil and plenty of garlic. Blitva is served with most meat and fish-based dishes. Blitva is often prepared na lešo which means that it is boiled in water or broth and then seasoned with olive oil and spices. Blitva even has its own festival in Croatia, a Blitvijada that is held in Podgora usually in October. Blitva is so common in the Croatian kitchen that people from the Dalmatian region are sometimes nicknamed as Blitvari. The Blitva and the bread with butter we have are delicious albeit heavy for starters – and it is easy to eat too much and leave less space for the main dishes!

MMP orders two different types of squid (lignje); one is grilled whole squid with mashed potato, garlic, parsley and olive oil dressing, and the other is grilled squid with greens and white balsamic. As a vegetarian I do not get to taste it, but I admire the beautiful presentation. Those of the group that love grilled (and boiled) squid, including my children, are thrilled with both versions, and the one with potato mash seems to get slightly higher points. Lignje is a coastal delight, especially in Dalmatia, and grilled squid (lignje na žaru) is probably the most common form of its preparation. MMP tells us that fresh squid is served in coastal travels (konobas). What I hear from fellow Virtual Nomads is that the squid/lignje blends perfectly with Blitva. The secret to a perfectly tender lignje is to prepare it on a wood-fired grill with a rack over the fire. 

For the meat eaters, we have Čevapčiči (pork and beef sausages), served with ajvar, grilled onions and white cabbage salad. They are usually made from minced meat (beef, lamb or pork) and grilled skinless over fire. They are small sausages that are mainly hand-mixed and said to be introduced to the Balkans during the Ottoman period. Čevapčiči are served with ajvar, a roasted capsicum and eggplant sauce. Ajvar has been called “vegetarian caviar” and it has a lovely, slightly smoky flavour. It is a common feature of Croatian cuisine and very popular also in other Balkan countries. It is typically prepared in autumn. The other dish is pileća šnicla, or chicken schnitzel. MMP tells us that this is a very common dish in Croatia served with white cabbage salad. The secret of the chicken schnitzel is to pound it thin, dip in breadcrumbs with eggs and serve it fried. At the Croatian club, the dish also comes with aioli and fries. MMP tells us that this would also be a typical dish on kids’ menus. 

Seafood is an important part of the Croatian kitchen, and common oily fish dishes are prepared with sardines, anchovy, bonito, tuna and mackerel. For our Croatian celebration, we get a full snapper prepared in the Croatian way, accompanied with spinach, potatoes confit garlic and olive oil dressing. Fish is particularly important in the diet along the coast (Dalmatia, Istria and Kverner) and it is indeed along the coast where oily fish is a cornerstone of the cuisine. In inland regions, some dishes include freshwater fish. When asked about the ways to prepare fish, MMP says that the goal is to highlight the natural flavor of the fish through grilling over a charcoal fire (with garlic, parsley and olive oil) or in slow-cooked stews. Later I read that Croatians consume roughly 20.8kg of seafood per capita in a year. 

A wonderful and exotic side dish is Crispy cauliflower bites served with sriracha, tzatziki, chermoula dressing, coriander, and fresh chilli. The one on the right looks like a dessert but it is actually a salad with Heirloom tomatoes, nectarine, Vanella burrata, and oregano.

The Balkan Butler 

The second Croatian outing is a lunch of four women: MMP, L*, myself and also AV, an academic of Croatian origin whom I have known for a long time. MMP and AV both speak Croatian so they exchange a few sentences. We meet for lunch at the Balkan Butler, a Balkan restaurant at the heart of Surry Hills near Central Station. MMP and I have had lunch at this restaurant before and as a Croatian, MMP assures that the food and atmosphere are authentic Balkan. The restaurant is run by a mother-son duo. It is indeed a very cosy, lovely restaurant with high quality food.

For food, AV, a Professor of Law of Croatian origin (whom I have known for many years), orders The Butler’s chicken schnitzel (which in Croatian is pileća šnicla, as we learned at the Croatian club). It is accompanied with salad (with a touch of feta), potatoes and spicy sauce. L* instead has a piece of handmade Burek which is filled with cheese and spinach, and served with a Balkan salad. Burek is a staple of Balkan cuisine and typical in the diet across the region. On the Virtual Nomad journey, we have already tasted some Burek in both our Albania and Bosnia and Herzegovina stops. Both meals looks beautiful and tasty, and both AV and L* are very happy with their choices. MMP is not super hungry and decides to have a glass of Rakija which is considered the national drink of Croatia. Rakija is a strong fruit brandy that is prepared from grapes, plums or pears and often infused with herbs or honey. Rakija can be homemade but in our case it comes from an imported bottle.

I get an absolutely delightful eggplant dish in tomato-based sauce, feta cheese and warm bread. It is not on the menu, but the wonderful staff at the restaurant hear my vegetarian struggles and I receive this wonderful dish in a super hot clay pot. It is not only beautiful to look at but also absolutely delicious. 

Hrvatska 

Croatia is famous for its gorgeous coastline and crystal waters. It is a land inhabited since the paleolitic times. Once a home to Illyrian tribes, it was conquered by the Romans who named it Dalmatia and Pannonia. The Croats arrived in the 6th/7th century as part of the Slavic settlement and Croatia’s first international recognition as independent came in 879 under the reign of Duke Branimir. King Tomislav formed a Kingdom in 925 that allied with the Byzantines (against a common enemy, the Bulgarians). The Kingdom lasted until 1102, when it formed a personal union with Hungary while Dalmatia became dominated by Venetians during the following centuries. The Ottomans crushed Hungary in 1526 and Croatia quickly chose Ferdinand 1 of Austria as its ruler based on the condition that he would protect Croatia against the Ottomans while respecting the political rights of Croatia. The outcome of the Great Turkish War (1683-1698) established the present-day border between Croatia and its neighbour, Bosnia. 

The romantic nationalistic Illyrian movement (approximately from 1835 to 1863) gathered Croatian intellectuals around the idea of uniting South Slavs through language and culture, and fantasized about a free South-Slav state. During the Hungarian Revolution (1849), Croatia backed Austria. The 1867 Austro-Hungarian Compromise resulted in Croatia being left to Hungary, and the Croatian-Hungarian Settlement of 1868 united the Kingdoms of Croatia and Slavonia. 

In October 1918, after the defeat of Austria in World War I, Croatia declared independence and joined the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes which later became Yugoslavia. During World War II, the Axis alliance invaded Croatia, establishing a puppet state called the Independent State of Croatia led by the ultranationalist Ustaše (Croatian Revolutionary Movement) that killed hundreds of thousands of Serbs, Jews, Roma and anti-fascist Croats in concentration camps. The estimated number of victims of this genocide and the Serbian counteracts is around 350 000 to 450 000 people. The resistance movement was led by a man called Josip Broz Tito who, after the war, served first as the Prime Minister and then President of the boiling kettle of hate that became the Socialist Republic of Croatia. He kept the country together, but after his death in 1980 the cracks split wide open. Croatia declared independence in 1991, which was followed by the Croatian War of Independence (1991-1995). The war ended with a Croatian victory and around 20,000 people dead and 300,000 displaced. Croatia became a member of the European Union in 2013. Hrvatska is the native name of Croatia. 

Four books from and about Croatia 

So, another treat for me. I have these beautiful Croatian friends in Sydney (MMP and AV) but also a great Croatian friend AU in

Zagreb whom I think I have known for more than twenty years. It is then an absolute luxury for me to turn to these women and ask for book and movie recommendations. In the end, I read four books from and about Croatia from a variety of authors; Sara Nović who is most famous for her books about the challenges of deaf people and immigrants; journalist Slavenka Drakulić who has written non-fiction books about her observations of post-communism Eastern Europe; US-born immigrant Cody Mcclain Brown who started to write his experiences of Croatian culture and comparisons with the US in a blog, and finally the almost lyrical Tatjana Gromača who is one of the leading contemporary poets in Croatia (I read a poetic fiction book from her) and whose book hit me hardest and deepest of the four. 

My first read for this stop comes from Sara Nović, an American-Croatian author who lost her hearing in middle school. Sara has won many literature awards and some of her later books which deal with deafness from different aspects have been bestsellers (including True Biz and Mother Tongue). She also has published America is Immigrants which features stories of prominent immigrants from every country. Girl At War (2015) is her debut novel, a story about the Croatian Independence War from the perspective of a 10-year-old Ana and then a 20-year-old Ana when she returns to Croatia from her exile. 

There are many interesting elements in this book and Sara is indeed a very gifted writer. I think my main problem comes from my experience with Virtual Nomad in having read so many books which follow personal experience of living in the midst of armed conflicts. For me, a fictional book without the same autobiographical features can never really reach that level of depth, despite visible talent. This is an interesting book with too many open ends. Too much is left to the reader to decide what happens next or what some of the events mean. It is not a consistent book, its depth is underdeveloped and I wish there was more of a resolution. Nevertheless, there are elements to the book that carry the story forward and keep the reader intrigued: the relationship between Ana and her childhood friend; reflecting the life of those who left and those who were left behind. 

“Is anyone today able to say where Europe, and all that it stands for, begins, and where it ends?” 

Café Europa (1996) by Vienna-based Croatian journalist Slavenka Drakulić is a collection of essays and reflections on different Eastern European countries right after the fall of communism while adjusting to the new way of life. This book is a follow-up to her first collection of essays How We Survived Communism and Even Laughed (1992). Slavenka has a Swedish husband who in the 1990s Europe enjoys a much stronger privilege than Slavenka and a good part of the book is dedicated to complaining how hard it was for her to cross borders at the time. The start of the book is very interesting as she ponders the difference of “I” and “we” when you come from a context of communism based on a collective “we”. In the essays there is a strong focus on the effects of Western consumerism and the replacement of Eastern European characteristics with European brands and artifacts (hence the name which refers to several Western style cafes being opened around Eastern Europe, at the time). Written thirty years ago, some parts feel outdated, and as a whole, the book is a bit monotone and repetitive. There are certainly several parts that are interesting but overall it has a preachy tone that becomes fairly tiring. I was expecting something a bit sharper and analytical, and was surprised how bland this book was in the end. The Croatia of today is of course very different from the one described in this book, but I was intrigued about the introspection about living in a changing environment– the impact of the changed political system, the aftermath of the war and the opening towards Europe. I was disappointed of not finding that in a deeper compelling way in this book. 

In this autobiographical book from 2014, Cody Mcclain Brown is a US American from Oklahoma who falls in love with a Croatian girl who is enigmatic and seems not interested in him at all. Skip a few and they get married, and he finds himself visiting/living in Croatia. The setting is to compare American and Croatian cultures in a self-deprecating way while being funny and goofy at the same time. The Croatian wife is a goddess and the American boyfriend is silly. Jokes don’t always land  and writing is mostly at high school level, at least for about half of the book. The lack of historical and political research is astonishing, and the observations are sometimes so banal that the whole book is a bit flat. “Oh really, no Starbucks in Split” or (direct quote): ”On moving to Split and to Croatia for good, I still believed life in Croatia would be something like the Bourne Identity. Guess what? Life in Croatia is NOTHING like the Bourne Identity.”. The book does not really offer a deeper understanding of the Croatian culture other than the Croats drink a lot of coffee, use slippers inside, stand in line a lot and that it is customary to give presents – and they live in much smaller spaces and closer to each other than Americans do. Some of the writing is IN ALL CAPS and it is THIS AMERICAN IDIOT (L proofreading sidenote: incidentally, completely unrelatedly, my favourite album ever) visiting Europe BEING REALLY F-U-N-N-Y. There are some more serious, slightly deeper reflections and for those the book is more interesting. Cody’s thoughts about friendship and personal space show some analytical and deeper thinking but even that is short-lived. The book does get better towards the end when Cody tries less hard to be funny and actually talks seriously, for example when it comes to reflecting on the presence of violence in daily life in Croatia and in the US. 

But there are glimpses of familiarity that every person who has moved from their motherland to another country recognises, and these recognitions come towards the very end of the book. Simple truths such as “And when you live abroad, you forget that time doesn’t stop with your absence. It keeps marching on while your version of home is constructed, not by the world you encounter daily, but instead it is built by the residue of nostalgia. No longer made up of the physical facts on the ground, but by the motions and impressions of memory. You can never go home, because that home no longer exists, except in your heart and head.” And for that Cody, I will give the book three stars from the initial one/two that I thought at the beginning. That is the type of writing that makes sense! Not the cheap cheesy attempts of jokes in capital letters. 

“There were many such people who deep inside wished to be free and authentic but believed it was not yet totally and completely possible, or who believed it was simply necessary to adapt to the lack of freedom and authenticity in order to remain on the surface and so as not to be swept under the rug.” 

My last book for this stop comes from Tatjana Gromača and has been described as “A minimalist, symbolic novel about family and belonging in a fractured society… gripping.” That is all true. It is a minimalistic book simultaneously about the breaking of a society, and the breaking of a person. In the book, ‘Mother’ slowly loses herself to a mental illness, while the country around the family breaks and slides into a violent chaos of nationalism and the Balkan war in the early 90s. ‘Mother’ is of Serbian origin and suddenly finds herself in an environment of hostility and unexcused racism. The changes are first subtle and then more clear. Neighbours turn against each other, society crumbles and Mother’s bipolar state becomes more unstable every day. Gender roles crumble as Father learns to cook and then atrocities start to happen. Mother is untouched as her highs keep her disattached from reality. 

Tatjana is a journalist but also one of the most important contemporary poets in Croatia. Her poetry pours into the narrative and gives it a haunting nature. “Father had a problem with acceptance, and Mother with recognition.” she says when talking about the traditional gender roles and their weight on people. Mother and Father are never mentioned by name and Mother’s illness, rooted in a childhood trauma, is narrated by her eldest daughter in a deeply understanding way but also quite clinically, the same way as some of the atrocities are described, as simple facts. 

“But that was long ago, before anyone’s tea has been laced with the toxic serum of hatred. The hatred spread much later, when a very well-preserved illusion shattered. And then all hell broke loose, with all of its rings of evil. Some became killers; others were killed. Some survived to carry a fear inside them as great as the eye of a dead, rigid elephant.”

The Croatian Movie Festival 

My brilliant friend AU in Croatia comes up with an impeccable list of Croatian must see-movies and the reasons behind why I should watch them. I proceed to watch everything she has recommended (except two that I do not find access to), and I also get her permission to include in my descriptions the reasons she wrote about why these movies are important. AU is a media researcher herself, absolutely brilliant and good fun, and it is easy to follow her suggestions. 

One Song a Day Takes Mischief Away (Tko pjeva zlo ne misli, 1970) by director Krešo Golik is culturally important to Croatian cinema. My friend AU says” often considered the most beloved Croatian film of all time, this musical comedy-drama is a cultural cornerstone. Set in 1930s Zagreb, it portrays a middle-class family life, romance, jealousy and social rituals through humor and unforgettable songs.” AU also says that “this film is deeply embedded in Croatian cultural memory – quotes, music and characters are widely known.”. 

With this in mind, I set up to watch it. It is indeed one of those endearing old movies that is nostalgic of the past, and very true to the European filmmaking fashion. The movie is filled with warm light, colourful characters and a lot of music. I understand that all the songs, generously placed around the plot, carry the story forward. It is a lovely film, but also has at its core a story of a man who constantly undermines and verbally abuses his wife. The wife has a life half lived and unspoken desires within her, and when a handsome and artistic stranger appears, there is some excitement in her life. Music and longing are intertwined, and counterweight the insults that are generously thrown around. It is not that the movie is trying to justify the behaviour of the husband and shows him to be a repugnant bully that he is. It is a pastel coloured lovely little film that quite boldly shows the longing of a middle aged housewife for a more sensual and exciting/artistic life; and neither she or the object of her desire are shown as villains, but people bound to the circumstances they live in.  

A Wonderful Night in Split (Ta divna splitska noć, 2004) by Arsen Anton Ostojić is then a very different movie from the pastel-coloured previous movie. This is film neo-noir from the 2000s, shot in black and white and portrays a very different Croatia. My friend AU says about the film: “It is an atmospheric ensemble film following three intertwined stories during New Year’s Eve in Split, Croatia’s largest coastal city. Darker in tone, it captures loneliness, desire and moral ambiguity against the backdrop of celebration. A strong portrait of post-transition urban Croatia and one of the most respected Croatian films of the 2000s.” Split is famous for its beauty and charm, but in this film, it is not a pretty town. Three somewhat intertwined stories tell of human desperation and isolation; drug addicts; prostituting teenagers; masochist widows; horny young people on drugs; the underbelly society of a coastal town. Placed in post-war (deliberately referenced only through photographs of fallen soldiers), it avoids over sentimentalism even if the deep hopelessness is sometimes quite very deep. Nothing is pretty or consoling in this dark tale and it is as lightless as its photography. It is quite captivating but hopeless to the core.

My friend AU says of the movie What Is a Man Without a Moustache? (Što je muškarac bez brkova?, 2005) by Hrvoje Hribar that it is a “A warm, humorous romantic drama set in a small Dalmatian village. A young widow falls in love with a Catholic priest, creating both comic and emotional tension in a conservative community. And it matters because it combines humor with social critique and gives insight into rural life, religion and post-war social dynamics.” 

It is an interesting movie with sweet funny parts. It has beautiful cinematography and it showcases the scenery and traditions of a small rural village. Some of the themes are common movie dilemmas; the tension between modernity (urban) and tradition (rural); and love and duty, the narrow gender roles. The moustache refers to a traditional feature of a masculine (real) man and how the gender roles are marked. Tatjana, the widow, is not radical in any means, but is still a modern woman of independence and education. It is a light-hearted and pleasant feel-good movie with a happy ending. 

To watch Safe Place (Sigurno mjesto, 2022) by Juraj Lerotić is quite an experience when you know that the director plays one of the lead roles as a man trying to save his brother from suicide. My friend AU says about the film: “A minimalist, deeply personal contemporary drama following a family over one day as they try to support a young man after a suicide attempt. One of the most internationally acclaimed Croatian films of recent years; intimate, restrained and emotionally powerful.” Juraj wrote the film after a year of losing his real-life brother to a suicide, and that intimate suffering of seeing your loved one struggle pours into this movie. It is a beautiful portrayal of the weight mental illness puts on family members that do everything they can to help, out of love and out of duty. It is an understated, amazing, deeply personal and touching tribute to the suffering of family members who dedicate their whole energy to keeping their loved ones on their feet when even that might not be enough. It is quite remarkable, heartbreaking and very real. The international acclaim it has attracted is very deserved. 

The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent (Čovjek koji nije mogao šutjeti, 2023) is a 14 minute short film by Nebojša Slijepčević. It is inspired by a real life heroic act by retired Yugoslav People’s Army officer Tomo Buzov in 1993. The train he was travelling in was stopped by Serbian paramilitary forces looking for Bosniaks. He stood up and spoke against injustice defending a young Bosniak man and lost his life as a prize for his moral courage. My friend AU says about it: “A powerful short film based on a true event during the 1990s war. On a train stopped by paramilitaries, one man refuses to stay silent while others choose safety through compliance. It matters because it is a stark moral story about courage, fear, and individual responsibility. Internationally acclaimed and widely discussed.” It is a powerful testimony and incredibly effective in its stillness, and worthy of all the international awards and nominations it has received. 

Surogat (Ersatz, 1961) was the first non-US animated film to win an Oscar. Made by the Zagreb School of Animation and directed by Dušan Vukotić. My friend AU says of it that it is: “a sharp, minimalist animated short about consumerism, artificiality, and modern life. Famous for its clean design and irony.” It has been said to have inspired a cartoon moment in the Simpsons. It definitely reflects artificiality and modern life (everything is artificial and created, even the feelings), but from a contemporary point of view, I see it mostly to depict violence against women. The main character creates a blow up woman with big breasts for his own pleasure, tries to jump her against her will and does not accept when she chooses another man – and he goes and basically kills her. I am surprised (or not) that this aspect is not more widely discussed in the analysis and reviews of this animated short film. This brings to the film a much darker tone that is uncomfortable even if a satiric take on modern life. Also, the man rejects the first woman he creates (because she is ‘ugly’) and then creates the second woman who insistently says no but the man presses anyway and then a ‘love’ is born for a moment until the woman sees a more attractive man and goes with him, and the first man believes the woman belongs to him and goes and kills her. But in the end it was all artificial and not real – even if the man takes the dead woman’s ‘body’ with him before he also vanishes. 

Professor Balthazar was a long-living TV animated series (1967–1978) created by Zagreb Film. My friend AU says that it is a “gentle, wordless animated series following an eccentric professor who solves problems using imagination, empathy, and science rather than force.” and it matters as “An iconic children’s series across Europe and beyond. Universally understandable, humanistic, and deeply tied to the Zagreb School of Animation.” It shows Professor Balthazar solving a problem in each episode through inventions, science and pacific actions. There is no violence in the series. There are several episodes available on youtube and the 59-episode series was broadcasted in several Asian and European countries at the time. 

Unfortunately two titles on my friend AU’s list are not available on streaming platforms or any other form for me to see, and therefore need to be placed on my ever growing Virtual Nomad watchlist. These are Dražen (2024) by director Danilo Šerbedžija that AU says is: “a biographical film about Dražen Petrović, one of the greatest European basketball players of all time and a national icon in Croatia. The film traces his rise from Šibenik to international stardom. It matters because sports, ambition and national identity intersect in a story widely resonant beyond Croatia.” The other is a 6-episode mini TV series The Last Socialist Artefact (Područje bez signala,2021–2022) that is based on the novel by Robert Perišić. AU says that:” Set in a remote, economically struggling town, the series follows an attempt to revive a failed factory, revealing community tensions, hopes and disillusionment. It is a sharp, contemporary look at post-industrial Croatia and collective survival. Though a series, it functions well as long-form storytelling for cultural immersion.” 

Eurovision success and vanguard of the naïve art 

We got a glimpse of Croatian traditional music with the first movie for this stop. As for more contemporary music, Croatia does not have many globally known artists and some of the most known ones owe their fame to Eurovision. One of them is Severina Vučković who is the only Croatian artist with over one billion views on Youtube. She has had a very colourful private life and her music has been described as pop-folk. Another successful artist is Grše (Grgo Šipek) who has had much success in recent years and holds the record number of weeks at number one.

I turn to my friend MMP who herself is a musician and of Croatian origin. She recommends Dubioza Collective, who are actually Bosnian. They are a Bosnian avant-garde dub rock band that mixes different styles and genres in their music accompanied with social and political lyrics in several languages. 

MMP also recommends art from several artists, one is Ivan Generalić (1914-1992), a self-taught artist famous for his naïve art. From Hlebine in Croatia, Ivan dropped out of school at an early age and learned through experimentation. His art is a vivid testimony of rural life and its natural and human landscape, and also magical realist in its style. His art has vivid, vibrant colours, and it is described as expressive and emotional. He is considered as one of the most important naïve artists in the world. 

(Ivan Generalić)

Ivan Rabuzin (1921 – 2008) is another of MMP’s favourites, and again it is easy to see why. He is another naïve artist, also self-taught. Son of a miner and the sixth of eleven children. 

(Ivan Rabuzin)

MMP also mentions an experimental artist Tomislav Gotomac (1937-2010) that the Muzeum Sztuki Nowoczesnej describes as “not only a charismatic and exuberant person with an uninhibited lifestyle, creator of films, performances, photographs and collages but also somebody who designed a whole complex world for himself.”

Next stop: Cuba

Thank you wonderful L for your proofreading! (L note: My pleasure! It means I can procrastinate Chemistry study and still feel useful…)

Before my daughter L (then 18) left for her long world travel, we had the opportunity to celebrate Costa Rica and (partly) Croatia before her departure. Virtual Nomad then took a long break due to different life events. It was also a good time to wait for L to return from her real travels, so that we could return to the virtual ones. The Virtual Nomad stop for Côte d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast) happened months after Croatia… but that is a minor detail. 

Côte d’Ivoire is the largest producer of cocoa in the world, producing around 40-50% of the global cocoa supply. Cocoa is used for making yummy chocolate, but there is a very dark side to its production – modern slavery which often involves child labour and severe deforestation. That should give us reason to consume ethically produced chocolate (such as Tony’s chocolonely – 100% slave-free cocoa).

Côte d’Ivoire is a nation of the young, as 75% of the population is under 35 years old. Côte d’Ivoire has two capital cities, Yamoussoukro, the political capital, and Abidjan, which serves as the economic capital (and is also the largest city). Its flag has the same colours as Ireland, but in a different order, orange symbolising national growth; white purity and unity and green hope for the future. 

But first, as always, food.

The closest cuisine we could find

Once upon a time there was a well reviewed restaurant in Sydney that served food from Côte d’Ivoire, but it has now permanently closed. I then did some research to find the closest possible option and every search led to the same result, a Fusion West Africa/Ghanaian restaurant The Ghardens in Blacktown, Western Sydney. It is a wonderful, friendly restaurant with superb cuisine at the very heart of Blacktown. While it meant quite a trip for the group, it was worth the travel time as a wonderful find that we otherwise would never have found– if not for Virtual Nomad. 

This outing was planned to be a women’s dinner as a homage to the strong West African women that all of us hold dear in our lives. The planned ten attendees decreased to six on the day, but it did not take away any of the charm of the wonderful night. Present were wonderful friends; my Australian friend L*, whose family is of Cambodian origin, my other Australian friend MMP of Croatian background, my American friend AR whose family background is mixed US-Filipino, my daughter L who is also of mixed cultural background and her new international student friend DL and myself, an immigrant to Australia. It was a lovely night with great conversation, and also music of Alpha Blondy that MMP (who herself is a musician) is familiar with. One really learns to cherish nights like this – sharing a meal with people who are interesting, intellectually curious, multilayered, warm and emotional. We did not have a pure Côte d’Ivoire night in the strictest sense as the food was more Ghanaian than Ivorian, but this was the closest we could get in a multicultural city of Sydney where finding a restaurant from Côte d’Ivoire resulted to be an impossible task. 

The food itself: 

Our party has two vegetarians, so for starters the meat eaters get The Ghardens “Kele-Turkey” which means spiced ripe plantain with turkey. This is not a typical Côte d’Ivoire dish but mainly consumed in Ghana. “Kele” is a typical Ghanaian street food made of deep fried plantains seasoned with spices (primarily ginger, cayenne, pepper and salt), and then combined with turkey. Deep fried plantains are also consumed in  Côte d’Ivoire (known as aloco) even if not particularly in this form. Turkey is a common dish in Côte d’Ivoire and as in Ghana, also a typical street food and often served with fermented cassava pulp. So while we are not trying to sell this dish as from Côte d’Ivoire, there is a West African connection between the neighbouring countries and their cuisines.  

Another starter that we have is Kosua Ne Moko which is another Ghanaian dish not typically consumed in Côte d’Ivoire. The dish is very spicy (poor L took a mouthful and spicy food is not her forte) – boiled egg with red hot chilli sauce. It literally translates into “eggs and pepper” in the Twi language (spoken in Southern and Central Ghana but also to some extent in Côte d’Ivoire). This is a dish served with tomatoes, red onion and spicy pepper. It is very spicy and its spiciness does bury some of the other taste underneath. When I read about this dish later, I found out that in Ghana there have been some health concerns about its very high salt and flavor enhancer content, but that it is still a very popular Ghanaian snack. We order three for the six of us which gives one half for each, and that is quite plenty. We do have different degrees of tolerance for spiciness in our group so some of us are less affected than others. Nevertheless, it still is a great starter for a great meal with its impactful taste. 

L is very intrigued by a dish called Fried yam with giblets / turkey. This is a dish that is popular in both Côte d’Ivoire and Ghana. Fried yam in Côte d’Ivoire is a very popular dish and, as in this case, paired often with grilled giblets. Yam is sometimes compared to sweet potatoes but they are different, unrelated vegetables. Sweet potatoes originate from South America and are sweeter and more nutritious than yam due to lower calorie count and higher vitamin A content. Yams have higher calorie count and native to Africa and Asia. They can also be distinguished by the colour; sweet potatoes are orange or white, while yams are white or yellow inside and starchier to eat. Yams take longer to prepare as they must be cooked thoroughly to remove all the toxins. In Côte d’Ivoire yam is often prepared as in this dish; peeled, sliced and deep-fried. They do provide an excellent accompaniment to tastier dishes but on their own are quite starchy and quite dry. Giblets refers to the edible organs of poultry, often chicken or as in this case, turkey. They are a popular and typical component of Côte d’Ivoire cuisine. In Côte d’Ivoire the giblets are often prepared as Choukouya, grilled and marinated in a spicy onion and tomato sauce and served with plantains. 

The Chicken combo comes with jollof rice (tomato rice) and salad. Jollof rice is a staple component of West African cuisine and typical across the region, especially prominent in Nigeria, Ghana and Senegal (where it is said to come from), Sierra Leone, Liberia and Cameroon. In Côte d’Ivoire, jollof rice is often referred to locally as riz gras (fatty rice) and the local version includes ingredients such as palm oil, dawa dawa (African locust beans) and African basil. The Côte d’Ivoire jollof rice still shares the basic elements of the dish: rice and tomato. It is also a staple feature of the West African diaspora cuisine around the world. 

Chicken combo dishes, especially with grilled or stewed chicken, are particularly popular in both Côte d’Ivoire and Ghana. In Côte d’Ivoire, the chicken combo is often prepared as Kedjenou: a spicy, slow-cooked chicken stew prepared in a canary (sealed pot) and paired with rice. In Ghana, which is the dish our group was served, chicken combo often comes with Shito, a dark and spicy Ghanaian black pepper sauce made from dried fish, shrimp, tomatoes, ginger, garlic and chilli peppers. And it is typical to combine all this with a salad. 

For the vegetarians, we get Red Red with fried plantain, palm oil, gari and boiled egg. Red Red is a signature Ghanaian dish but also consumed in Côte d’Ivoire. It is made from black-eyed peas that are cooked in red palm oil and tomato sauce with onions, which gives the name to the dish. It is a dish of contrasts; the Red Red itself is very spicy but the sweetness of the plantains soften the impact as does the lonely boiled egg. It is very rich in flavour and also quite heavy, which does not make it any less tasty. It is a staple feature of the regional cuisine, especially with the Ga people in Ghana. In Côte d’Ivoire, it often is served with fermented cassava couscous Attiéké. There is a similar dish in Côte d’Ivoire, palm nut soup that uses the same red palm oil as Red Red. Similarly, stewed beans with fried plantain is very typical of Côte d’Ivoire. 

And finally, our party gets a Peanut Soup with goat meat which comes with fufu. This is a dish that is eaten by hand and our lovely waiter brings two bowls of water for washing the hands. Members of our group are not exactly sure how that works so there are a few versions of the hand washing among the group but in general this is a very well received dish. Peanut soup is a staple of both Ghanaian and Ivorian cuisine – in Côte d’Ivoire it is referred as sauce d’arachide (as also in other French-speaking West African regions). The base of the dish is creamy peanut butter with ingredients such as ginger, pepper and garlic. Fufu is made of cassava, plantains or yams – it is smooth, dough-like, smooth and elastic. The group reports that this dish is exquisite.

Côte d’Ivoire, not Ivory Coast 

Côte d’Ivoire has long been inhabited by different nations and like many of its neighbours, the area was part of several empires and nations during different time periods, including Guyaamn/Jamang (around the 17th century and including parts of the present state Ghana and Côte d’Ivoire), the Kong Empire (already mentioned previously on the Virtual Nomad entry for Burkina Faso – from about 1710 until 1898) and Baoulé (established by Queen Abla Pokou, sometimes called Aura, in 1730 – the Baoulé are the largest ethnic groups in present Côte d’Ivoire). 

Côte d’Ivoire received its present name from the Portuguese who in the 15th and 16th century divided the coast of Western Africa into Costa de Marfim (Ivory Coast – reflecting the name of the main trade item from the area); Pepper/Grain Coast (present day Liberia); Gold Coast (present day Ghana) and the unfortunate name of Slave Coast (present Togo, Nigeria and Benin). The government of present day Côte d’Ivoire refuses translations into any other language, so Ivory Coast is not to be used as the name of the country. 

France annexed Côte d’Ivoire as a protectorate in 1843 and then a colony in 1893. France abolished slavery in French West Africa in 1905, and between 1904 and 1958, Côte d’Ivoire was part of the Federation of French West Africa. France and French culture was considered superior to the local culture and population, and while the local people were considered ‘subjects’ of France, they had no civil or political rights (until 1946 when the French nationality was given to all “subjects”). This was partly for gratitude in their fighting for France in the two world wars. Independence was achieved in 1960, and the first president was Félix Houphouët-Boigny who stayed in power until his death in 1993. His home village Yamoussoukro became the political capital of the country and during his presidency, the treatment of political opposition was not friendly. His successor Henri Konan Bédié was even harder on political opponents and was ousted in a military coup in 1999. 

In the 21st century, Côte d’Ivoire has seen two civil wars, one in 2002-2007, and the other in 2010-2011. Since 2010, the President has been Alassane Ouattara who is on his fourth term currently (when the Constitution only permits two) and is curiously winning elections with nearly 90% of votes. A new Constitution was adopted in 2016. 

While French is the official language, there are around 78 different languages spoken in the country. Côte d’Ivoire is ethnically and religiously diverse, with Islam, Christianity and traditional faith systems living side by side. 

Five books from Côte d’Ivoire

Several authors from Côte d’Ivoire feature on a few “best lists” of African literature. Ahmadou Kourouma is probably the most internationally known, but there are several others who have gained international recognition including Véronique Tadjo, Marguerite Abouet,  Bernard Dadié and playwright Koffi Kwahule. A super interesting author is Gauz, and I begin with him. . 

Gauz (Armand Patrick Gbaka‑Brédé) is an author, journalist and screenwriter who grew up in Côte d’Ivoire. After studying biochemistry, he moved to Paris as an undocumented student, working as a security guard before returning to Grand-Bassam, Côte d’Ivoire. Standing Heavy (2014) is his debut novel that won the Prix des libraries Gibert Joseph.

Standing Heavy is a wonderful, satirical, poignant and hilarious book. It is clever without being gimmicky and displays social criticism without being preachy. The fractional writing is a bit confusing at times which makes it slightly difficult to follow, and it is at its best when including observations of daily customers in department stores. The book spans over three different time periods and follows three undocumented immigrants from Côte d’Ivoire. They live in Paris and work as security guards (hence the name ‘Standing Heavy’ as the job involves many hours of just that). Placed between ‘The Bronze Age 1960-1980, the Golden Age 1990-2000 and the Age of Lead, are the sharp and bizarre descriptions of consumer behaviour. The different times also reflect the changes in French immigration policies,  the world events that affect them, the everpresent racism and the steady but devastating shift against ‘illegal and undocumented’. 

“It is the women who are the worst affected by the epidemic. maybe because it usually falls on them to care for the sick. maybe because they’re the last to leave home and seek treatment. and maybe because, until the very end, they try to keep things going, they try to make things right.”

I expected much more from Véronique Tadjo’s In the Company of Men – the Ebola Tales (2017). It took me a while to get a hold of it and when I did, I was very excited. I knew that the book was about the outbreak of the ebola virus narrated from different points of view (almost like small interviews)  – an old Baobad tree; a doctor sweating in a protective suit; a nurse with a social calling despite the stigma that follows her and her family; a student working in a mortuary when universities are closed; a scientist who discovers the virus; family members of infected people watching their loved ones perish; survivors who do not understand how they were speared; several patients and finally the virus itself. It has stellar moments and definitely is skilled and poetic in understanding the precipice and the extent of the problem. It’s sharp in describing the challenges, the corruption, the stigma, the inequality, the desolation and the indifference of the rest of the world until the virus spreads. But because it is a work of fiction, it does not completely rise to the level of reality, and reading it hits differently after the global pandemic of COVID19. Things are described – rather than felt. And while it is important to recognise and value traditional knowledge, to assume that the outbreak is the result of a disconnection of people from their roots and from nature, is quite simplifying. And quite frankly, I could have finished the book before the last part which starts with “The chilling voice of Ebola out in the early morning” – the narrator is Ebola itself. 

The last chapters are reserved for the virus, the bat and the Baobad tree. The virus lectures how it is happiest when dormant deep in the primordial jungle and that the humans are to blame because they have lost their traditional ways and beliefs. That is the weakest part of the book – trying to give a human voice to the virus, and mixing that with how humans are greedy, bad and destructive, and god is great. The virus even talks about the threat of nuclear war. And then there’s the bat, the origin of the outbreak from animals to humans who also is anthropomorphized and preaches how bad humans are, and talks about space exploration and rockets. The message is important but its preachiness is irritating and tiring, and there are so many books that illustrate the disconnection with the nature and destruction of the environment much better. Of course it is easy to hide behind the “people should do better and return to the old ways” as it was that easy. It was the last part of the book that killed all the narrative for me. It is sad as this book could have been so much better in so many aspects. (And it did bother me a bit that this is an author from Côte d’Ivoire writing about Sierra Leone, DCR, Guinea, Uganda and Liberia). 

Aya of Yop City (2006) by Marguerite Abouet is a fun variation to the Virtual Nomad reading, as it is a graphic novel – so reads like a comic. It is the second installation in a series about life in the 1970s Côte d’Ivoire. Marguerite said in an interview that as she left Côte d’Ivoire to live in France at the age of 12, she wanted to recreate the environment of her childhood. Illustrated by Clemént Oubrerie, the book is a joy to read even if the story is not overly engaging but still opens a window to the rich and vibrant past of the country Marguerite left behind. It is the illustrations that make it especially compelling with the warm and accessible colours. The story itself is a bit light – Aya is 19 and hardworking, dedicated to her studies and keeping away from trouble while her two best friends get themselves into a pickle with contested paternities, single motherhood and affairs with unreliable men. Aya is an observer to the things happening around her but not much happens to her. The illustrations are lovely, and the story comes with a glossary and instructions on how to carry your baby on your back! Depending probably on the edition, but there is an interesting interview with Marguerite at the end of the book. 

Probably the most famous author from Côte d’Ivoire is Ahmadou Kourouma. He came from the Malinké ethnic group and was born in the northern part of the country. He studied mathematics and engineering, and in his youth under French colonial rule, participated in military campaigns in Indochina. After studying in France and celebrating the freshly gained independence of Côte d’Ivoire, Ahmadou returned to the country of his birth. He was not impressed by president Félix Houphouët-Boigny and after being jailed, spent thirty years in exile in Algeria, Cameroon and Togo. 

Ahmadou’s two most famous novels are The Suns of Independence (Les Soleils des indépendances, 1968 – translated into English in 1981) and Allah is not Obliged (Allah n’est pas obligé, 2000). I decided to read both. Let’s start with the first one. 

The Suns of Independence is an interesting portrayal of postcolonial West Africa. The main protagonist is a fallen aristocrat Fama, an anti-hero and the last of a line of Malinké Doumbouya dynasty who no longer has a place in the new order. Independence has arrived in the country and that means bad news for Fama. He has fallen to disgrace and poverty, and is unable to have children with his wife Soulimata. Every day seems to bring more and more humiliation. The promises of decolonisation are not fulfilled and corruption is rampant, and many people are excluded from the benefits and forms of the new system. It is a book that is interesting but difficult to read – both for the experimentation with language as well as with the bitterness of the story. It is about the disillusionment from a promised better future and its impact on individuals, balancing the past and the future, ritual and traditions, and new forms of life. 

It is a book that was one of the first to be written about postcolonial Africa from a critical point of view, and also a book that has been said to ‘decolonise’ French by “forcing it to express African way of thinking”. There are also a lot of old rituals, oral traditions and beliefs included in the storytelling. I wanted to love it more than I did, and I found it difficult to read. I admired it, but I felt disconnected. Fortunately quite the opposite happened with the second book I read from Ahmadou. 

Allah is not Obliged (Allah n’est pas obligé in French) from 2000 is a fantastic, poignant, satirical, violent, hilarious, brutal and sharp book. It is written from the point of view of a 10-year-old child soldier who for different reasons ends up wandering from one West African country to another during the Liberian and Sierra Leonean civil wars in the 1990s. It is narrated by Birahima, the child soldier which some reviewers have said is not believable but that is not the point. Of course it is not believable that a 10-year-old could write such a story – but it serves as an incredibly brilliant gateway to the “West African civil wars for dummies.” The essence of the book goes beyond the political situation in West Africa during the time, it is razor sharp and powerful in its depiction of a world without morality and very little compassion, in which greed, individual gain and extreme cruelty reign – where things can slip if morality is removed. It is of course morally unsettling but immersed in black humour that is incredibly lucid. It is an astonishing and disturbing book that hits bone deep and offers such a deep x-ray of humanity going lawless.

The Ivorian Mini Movie Festival 

Côte d’Ivoire had only 15 cinemas in 2025 and approximately only twenty films were released between 2024 and 2025. There is growing film production in the country but some of these movies lack larger distribution. Nevertheless, I did manage to see three very interesting films and three documentaries.

There are several movies that are set in prisons, and I have seen quite a few for the Virtual Nomad movie path. La Nuit des Rois (Night of the Kings, 2020) by Philippe Lacôte is a stellar one. I watched it without knowing anything about it prior and I am happy that I did. It is a surprising mix of fantasy, thriller, drama and mythology. It plays like a homage to cinematographic storytelling and you can find references to world cinema throughout – it has clearly been influenced by Latin American (e.g. City of God), Asian and French moviemaking, but all those influences are cleverly mixed in a whole that looks and feels fully authentic. The story is simple but there are so many nuances that I feel that I should watch it a couple of times to understand all its themes – succession power struggles to politics to sacrifice to survival to loyalty to the corruptive force of power to mythology, rites, traditions, treason, gender fluidity, just to name a few. It is almost an impossible feat to cover so many themes in one movie in such a subtle, effective way. It is astonishing, vibrant, surreal, enthralling. I aim not to reveal too much of the plot because that is the best way to take it in, and it is an unexpected, thrilling ride. 

The compelling Adanggaman (2000) by Roger Gnoan M’Bala looks into slavery from Western Africa through the lens of tribal warfare. In the 17th century, a young man Ossei’s village is burned down by the Dahomey Amazons of the (fictional) Empire of Adanggaman (the history of female Dahomey warriors is described in the Virtual Nomad entry for Benin – these were feared female warriors not allowed to marry or have children) and the survivors are taken as slaves (either for the empire or sold to Europeans). Ossei races to save his mother from being sold as a slave after he has disobeyed traditional marriage customs. It is an interesting movie with an amazing soundtrack (mostly by Lokua Kanza). There are many parts that are filmed in pitch black, which asks a lot from the audience, but it is a fascinating film. The dreadful history of slavery is shown as a part of the greediness of unstable tyrannies susceptible to rum and guns. ‘Africa’ is not one, but made up of nations and tribes that capture and sell people, from neighboring tribes to white slave traders. Weak and greedy rulers make everyone prey to European slave trade. The film is dedicated “to all the Africans who suffered the iron collars and chains of slavery, and to their children and grandchildren who bear their scars.” 

What is remarkable about the movie Black Tea (2024) by Malian filmmaker Abderrahmane Sissako is that it follows a love story between an African woman and an Asian man, not often seen in movies. It is stunningly filmed – the camera really loves Nina Mélo who plays the main character, Aya, who leaves her husband-to-be on their wedding day and travels to China to work in a tea shop. She falls in love with an older Chinese man, and of course their story does not come without complications. This is one of those movies that you really want to love, and there is warmth and plenty of melancholy but overall the movie fails to develop fully and feels a bit flat. But it is beautifully shot and there are moments of deep melancholy and longing in scenes of forbidden love. The actors do a very good job. African immigration to China is such an interesting and underdeveloped theme that it is disappointing that the movie does not really fully go where it could go. It is still better than some the reviews suggest (33% in Rotten Tomatoes) even if not mindblowing storytelling-wise. 

The visually impressive Chimpanzee (2012) was filmed in the Taï National Park in Western Côte d’Ivoire for Disneynature. The park is both the largest intact and one of the last primary rainforests in Africa, and also a natural reservoir of the Ebola virus. It became a national park in 1972 and a UNESCO Heritage Site in 1982. It is  home to many species, including chimpanzees that are known to use tools (such as rocks to crack nuts). In this documentary, some of the footage of the rainforest is breathtaking and the ability of the crew to capture the life of chimpanzees is amazing. It took four years to complete, and was quite a feat to film in the rainforest. It is a very a cute story even if sometimes a bit simplifying and dramatised – there is a central survival story of a little chimp that is quite astonishing and rooted in the reality but dramatised at the same time – the chimp is “played” by several little chimps, but what happens to him is what happened in real life. Disney donated some of the proceeds to the Jane Goodall institute for its chimpanzee programs. Overall, even if a bit Disney fairytale-esque, it is an astonishing testimony to these amazing creatures and their society, including some surprising bits such as that they hunt and eat monkeys. 

The Dark Side of Chocolate is a 2010 Danish documentary about the child exploitation and trafficking for chocolate harvesting. The documentary films and follows children that are trafficked from Burkina Faso and Mali and transported across the border to plantations in Côte d’Ivoire. The film shows that despite an international agreement signed in 2001 to ban child labour and trafficking in cocoa plantations, the practice was very much alive in 2010 and thousands of children were taken as child slaves and subjected to forced, unpaid labour. In order to see a more contemporary situation, I watched another documentary from 2019 called Chocolate’s Heart of Darkness by Paul Moreira, 2019.  It is a better quality documentary than the Danish one but follows the same thematic, the exploitation of children in cocoa plantations. In this documentary it is shown that despite the promises of major chocolate companies to end child labour, thousands of children are still being trafficked, abused and subjected to conditions of slavery in order to harvest cocoa for chocolate production. The documentary covers the social and environmental impacts of child slavery and cocoa production, and the hypocrisy of the chocolate industry turning a blind eye to the conditions of these children, often separated from their families. It is eyeopening and heartbreaking. 

The top ethical chocolate brands are Tony’s Chocolonely (its mission is to make chocolate 100% slave-free “using direct, traceable sourcing from cooperatives in West Africa), Original Beans, Beyond Good, Divine Chocolate, Alter Eco, HALBA, Seed and Bean, Up-Up Chocolate, Lucocoa, Booja-Booja and Raw Chocolate Company. 

(L proofreading note: A major brand responsible for chocolate products is Nestle. I have been boycotting Nestle for many years, for several reasons, including child exploitation and slavery. Additionally, Nestle is infamous for the ‘Baby Killer’ scandal (peaking in 1981) in low and middle income countries- Nestle (often quoted with derogatory and racist language) aggressively marketed an infant formula targeting mothers, falsely claiming nutritional superiority over natural breast milk. By dressing saleswomen as nurses and introducing sales pitches in hospitals, Nestle continuously guilted mothers into buying their product, in order to meet profit margins. The push of infant formula usage is suspected to have caused around 212,000 infant deaths yearly in areas without safe drinking water, as prepared formula often carried pathogens causing disease, and the passive immunity of breast feeding was not achieved, so mothers paid for the compromising of their infant’s health. (Source: Voxdev, 2023) This doesn’t strictly apply to Côte d’Ivoire, but it makes me so intensely angry that I wish to share! This is the world we live in, friends- unjust and unimaginably cruel!)

Alpha Blondy

Alpha Blondy is the most famous Ivorian musician whose songs are often politically and socially motivated, singing about peace, politics and spirituality. Born Seydou Koné, he records mainly reggae in several languages; his native Dyula (widely spoken in Côte d’Ivoire but also in Burkina Faso and Mali, and some parts of Ghana, Guinea and Guinea-Bissau), French and English, and occasional Arabic, Hebrew, Jamaican Patois and other languages. He is often called the Bob Marley of Africa and he often performs with a 12-piece band called the Solar System. His career has spanned over several decades and over 17 albums. 

My musician friend MMP (who participated in the Côte d’Ivoire dinner) loves his song Cocody Rock, and when we have our Côte d’Ivoire dinner, we asked the lovely The Ghartans waiter to put some Alpha Blondy music for us and we ended up listening a long playlist of his wonderful reggae. The song Cocody Rock (1984) is described to be a “celebratory anthem honoring the music, culture and people of Côte d’Ivoire. It promotes unity and positive vibes, with “rocking representing” joyful energy and spiritual connection, often referencing Rastafarianism and ‘Jah time;.” 

This was another fascinating stop on the Virtual Nomad journey. Thank you wonderful L for your proofreading. (L: And my famous Nestle rant!)

Next stop: Croatia

Some things need to be said. Costa Rica is a country that is home. Usually in the Virtual Nomad path, we try not to bring individual experiences in more than necessary, but sometimes when there is a long history and deep personal connection with a certain place, we just have to. Costa Rica is one of those countries that can be described as ‘home’. 

While Finland may have been consistently ranked as the happiest country in the world (based on metrics such as education, social support, life expectancy, trust, work-life balance, fundamental freedoms, equality, safety and low levels of corruption), the Happy Planet Index ranks Costa Rica first based on ecological footprint, life expectancy and general well-being. Costa Rica has one of the five blue zones in the world, Nicoya. Blue zones are regions where people live longer and healthier lives on average than anywhere else in the world. Costa Rica has made monumental efforts to protect the environment, with 29-30 national parks covering  25% of Costa Rica, including forest and biological reserves, wildlife refuges and coastal areas. Costa Rica started conservation efforts already in the 1960s and has become a flagship country for sustainable tourism. The breathtaking Corcovado National Park is the biggest protected area in Costa Rica and named the “most biologically intense place on earth” by National Geographic. 

But first, as always, food.

The Tico Night – la Noche Tica

The Costa Rican Virtual Nomad gathering is a fairly small one. Gathered around the table are my partner JK and myself, and our children L (18), FK (15), A (11) combined with my children’s dear friend NA (18). We are accompanied by my dear lovely friend L* and her daughter S* (both on their 7th Virtual Nomad stop). My daughter L (18) is about to start travelling the world so it is also a chance to say farewell before her long journey. And what is a better way than with a place that is dear, as is Costa Rica. We celebrate a ‘Tico Night’, Tico meaning Costa Rican (our night would be la Noche Tica in Spanish).

The most typical dishes in Costa Rica are Gallo Pinto and Casado (meaning ‘a married man’). They are both constant daily features of Costa Rican cuisine (la cocina tica). They might seem similar but there is a clear and important distinction between them. Gallo Pinto is an important part of the breakfast table – it contains mixed rice and beans (with generous coriander and stir-fried onions, garlic, capsicum and salsa Lizano) that is often combined with eggs, tortilla and sour cream. As for Casado, it is a lunch or dinner dish, it also includes rice and beans but prepared separately. Casado includes white rice, black or red beans, meat (chicken, beef, pork), salad and plantains. For our Tico Night (la noche tica), I prepare gallo pinto but then serve it with salad, tamales and plantains.

An urban legend has it that the origins of Gallo Pinto are from San Sebastián (a neighbourhood in the capital San José). A farmer was going to prepare a rooster (gallo pinto) for dinner and the people in the neighbourhood thought he was preparing a feast and everyone was invited. When they turned up, the rooster was not enough so the farmer prepared rice and beans. This became local news and people would joke about the delicious “gallo pinto” of the farmer. 

My gallo pinto turns out well and even if a bit unorthodox I accompany it with Tamales. Tamales are consumed in all Central America and Mexico, and in Costa Rica are particularly part of the Christmas table. Costa Rican tamales are different from the Mexican ones in that they are wrapped in banana leaves which gives them a unique aroma and moisture. We could not find banana leaves or banana leaf tamales in Sydney so I bought Mexican ones. Tamales, in all Central American countries, and Mexico, share certain characteristics but also have regional/local differences. In Costa Rica, tamales are, again, above all a Christmas dish, filled with savory corn dough and rice. In Mexico, Honduras, Nicaragua and other Central American countries, tamales do not often have rice cooked in them and are consumed all around the year. The Mexican tamales that we have in our ‘Noche tica’ (Costa Rican night), are more spicy and have more sauce than Costa Rican tamales would be. Costa Rican tamales are more mild, and the rice is cooked inside the tamal. Nevertheless, they do give an idea to the group about tamales – and we will then just wait for the next Costa Rican trip to maybe indulge in the Tico ones. 

The salads that accompany the main dishes are the Ensalada de Palmito (the heart of palm salad) and a cilantro salad. In the palmito salad the hearts of palm (edible inner core of palm trees; texture and taste similar to asparagus or artichoke hearts) are sliced and then mixed with other salad ingredients, most typically tomatoes, cucumbers, corn and coriander. (L proofreading note: I have since begun to eat Palmitos out of a tin, delicious!) I used lime juice, olive oil and cilantro (coriander) for the juice and achieved an authentic Ensalada de Palmito taste, I must say. 🙂 The other salad was based on a generous use of cilantro/coriander that is a common feature in the Cocina Tica. It worked perfectly with the fried tortillas and plantains, also common in Costa Rican savory landscapes. Overall, it was a very successful night that succeeded in being as authentic as possible. 

As a dessert, I prepare pan de maiz, called Pan de Elote in Costa Rica. I made it from fresh corn and mix it with milk, butter, eggs, brown sugar and condensed milk. It is sweet, buttery and delicious – and well received by our Virtual Nomad group. 

A country without an army

While in the Pre Colombian times there were no significant empires in Costa Rica (such as the Incas, the Aztecs, the Mayas), the lands were inhabited by tribes and civilisations, including the Diquís (until approximately 1530). They were famous for their gold but also produced rock spheres (round rock balls) that appeared everywhere but whose purpose has remained unknown. Cristóbal Colón (or Christopher Columbus as referred to in English) sailed to the shores in 1502 and is believed to have the land named ‘Rich Coast’ for the golden treasures that the Indigenous people brought him. Or it could be Gil González Dávila who arrived in 1522. 

Costa Rica was not the favored destination of the conquistadores and therefore left to its own organisation and the status of a peripheral colony, keeping to itself for a while. It was not rich but quite poor and isolated from other colonies. The independence arrived in 1821 without too much trouble, and after some back and forth (like Nicoya Province joining sometime later). Costa Rica became part of the Federal Republic of Central America 1823-1838. An important event of the country’s future state was the Battle of Ochomogo in 1823 that ended with the victory of the republicans and settled the way to become an independent country (as opposed to being part of Mexico). 

Costa Rica became a coffee producer in the early 1800s and coffee has remained one of its main exports, together with bananas. Like some other countries in the region, Costa Rica has a complicated relationship with fruit companies whose actions easily diverge from modern standards of fair labour and environmental conservation. Nevertheless, Costa Rica’s past is fairly peaceful with the exception of a few hiccups such as the dictatorship of Federico Tinoco Granados and the 44-day civil war in 1948. Since 1948 Costa Rica has not had an army and has built a society of stable democracy, environmental protection, progressive social policies and high social well-being. Around five million people live in Costa Rica, with approximately two million in the metropolitan area consisting of the capital San José and its surroundings. Costa Rica has also received large quantities of refugees from the neighbouring Nicaragua and immigrants from other Central American countries. There are eight recognised Indigenous populations which form around 2.4% of the population – around 1% is Afro-Caribbean (centralized above all in the Caribbean coast and the Province of Limón). The land is volcanic and Costa Rica has between 5 and 7 active volcanoes. As mentioned before, 25% of the Costa Rican territory is national park land.

Six books from Costa Rica 

I am lucky to have many amazing, wonderful Costa Rican friends, some of which I call family. One of my dearest friends is FQ, scholar and Professor of Latin American Studies who is a trained historian specialist in urban cultural history – and who is an inspiring, magnetic and deeply charismatic person. FQ and her family are those kinds of people that are so generous with their time, friendship and hospitality that it makes you always feel inadequate when responding to their love and care (but then FQ’s wonderful husband kindly reminded me that friendship is not transactional). She is my definite go to person when it comes to Costa Rican literature and history, a well of knowledge and humour, and very generously finds and shares information with me. So as with other countries that I have close friends in, I will follow the recommendations that she has given me. She gave me six titles and luckily I can access five of them. I have another very dear friend LH who while not Costa Rican by birth, is married to a Costa Rican and calls CR her second home. She is a journalist and has studied literature, and is well read, so she is my other reference point for books. She approves the selection by FQ and then suggests a few others based on the recommendations from her well read and very helpful friend in Costa Rica . The recommendations from LK somewhat interlap with FQ’s; if not fully at least when it comes to authors, so I choose six books and then I am ready to indulge into my Costa Rican literature trip recommended by my beautiful friends.

Anacristina Rossi was born in Costa Rica and studied in the Netherlands, France and England. Her environmental novel La Loca de Gandoca (1991) was part of the Costa Rican school curriculum for 17 years and is a ‘muckraking’ novel to defend the Gandoca Wildlife Refuge. My friend FQ recommends Limón Blues (2002), a meticulously researched book that mixes fiction with real events and historical figures. Limón is a coastal town on the Caribbean coast and central to the Afro-Caribbean culture in the country. While Spanish is the official language of Costa Rica, English Kreole is widely used in Limón. The novel tells the story of Orlandus, a Jamaican national who moves to Limón in the early 1910s, and his wife Irene – and their disappointing marriage and attraction to other people. Central themes of the book are ever existing racism, ethnicity and belonging. Anacristina has done a tremendous job in researching for the the book in which fictional characters and events are matched with historical figures and events, most notably Marcus Garvey, Jamaican political activist and founder of the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) whose life story is quite compelling (in this book, and in general). She used local newspapers as references, and through her meticulous research, the book portrays a super interesting photograph of Limón and its traditions, music, demography and history. 

In the book, Orlandus is a colleague of Garvey and the story develops not only in Limón but also in Jamaica, Cuba, New York and Africa. The narrative alternates between third and first person covering mainly the view points and experiences of Orlandus and Irene. While the historical and sociopolitical development of Limón, UNIA and the presence of United Fruit Company in Costa Rica are fascinating and serve as a wonderful testimony, the love stories feel clumsy and forced, containing basically graphic sex scenes, and unrealistic relationship development, in simple romance novel fashion.. But the overall theme is racism; rampant and ever present, also a window to the Costa Rican past of discrimination against black populations. A fascinating anecdote is that the chapters are ordered under odd numbers – the even numbers are reserved for Anacristina’s subsequent novel, Limón Reggae. 

La ruta de su evasión by Yolanda Oreamuno was published in 1948 and unfortunately has never been translated into English (or any other language), so the title would be something like The Route of Her Escape which does not sound as good as in the original language. The lack of translation(s) is very unfortunate as it is quite an interesting book. It sometimes rambles unnecessarily as some scenes and dialogue feel repetitive and go over reasonable length, but overall it is a great book, and certainly innovative and fiercely feminist for its time. It is a story of a dysfunctional family – cruel and insensitive, abusive men and voiceless, submissive women. The father and his three sons are either controlling, insensitive and abusive, or weak, or both. One is health obsessed and cold until a significant tragic life event changes his path, one is flegmatic and indifferent (especially towards a woman that for some reason worships him like a dog) and the third is an insignificant wretch who mainly masturbates behind closed doors. Most women lack their own will, being subject to the cruelty, indifference and control of the men around them, mostly surrendering to their unfulfilling fate without complaint. When reading the book, sometimes I was mesmerised by its skillfulness and elaborate language, and sometimes I was frustrated by a tendency to get stuck in the same place. The resolution for me was less satisfactory than I had anticipated, but it was still a resolution. It is an interesting book and I am not quite sure how to rate it and swing between three to four stars in my Goodreads account. It is without a doubt a significant testimony of the patriarchal and misogynist society of the time, and follows a similar pattern as Anacristina’s book which alternates frequently and without warning between the first and third person. 

In several sources, the life of Yolanda (the author) has been described to have been divided into two very different phases: the first twenty years of happiness and achievement, and then twenty years of tragedy and challenges. She died at the age of 40 in Mexico. La ruta de su evasión has been described as innovative in its narrative and advanced in its description of the suffocating traditions and the role of women of the time. 

En una silla de ruedas, which I think also has not been translated into any other language, was published in 1918. The debut novel of the highly acclaimed Carmen Lyra who according to several sources is considered as the most important female author of the first half of the 20th century. She is a distant relative of FQ which makes reading her even more intriguing. The title translates into In a wheelchair and the basic storyline is about a boy called Sergio who after a mysterious childhood illness ends up in a wheelchair for the remainder of his life. 

Carmen’s real name was María Isabel Carvajal Quesada and she was quite an activist; the founder of the first Montessori school in the country, a co-founder of the communist party and also the founder of one of the first women’s trade unions in Costa Rica. She protested against fruit companies, taught underprivileged children and was sent to exile for being a communist in 1948. Denied the right to return, she died in Mexico in 1949 of a serious illness at the age of 61. 

The language of the book is beautiful, poetic and descriptive. Some readers have described it as boring and excessive in its descriptions of people and places, and too optimistic in its resolution, but I found the language gorgeous. It is a bit fairytale-esque, but shouldn’t be taken as a social construction but rather as a story, the story of Sergio that is full of melancholy but also affection and small miracles. It would make a very feel-good movie. But more than the story, it is the language that captivates me. 

While it has not been translated, let me try to show how some of its narrative floats. This translation is mine so if anyone would like to try a different one, I am happy to replace it:

Para los niños era algo tan indispensable como su madre. La llamaban Mama Canducha. Ellas los quería a todos, pero su cariño por Sergio era casi un fanatismo. Cuando murieron sus hijos y su marido, su amor quedó flotando como una hebra de miel en el espacio; un día se encontró con esta vida triste y delicada y allí se prendió y tejió en torno suyo un capullo de ternura. which would translate to something like: 

For the children, she was as indispensable as their mother. They called her Mama Canducha. She loved them all, but her affection for Sergio bordered on fanaticism. When her children and husband died, her love remained floating like a strand of honey in space; one day it encountered this sad and delicate life and there it attached itself and wove a cocoon of tenderness around it. 

Or

Las golondrinas atravesaban el encanto de la tarde y volaban sobre el agua dormida. Cuando el crepúsculo era dorado, se ponía el agua de color miel, las golondrinas mojaban la punta de sus alas y al remontarse dejaban caer gotas que parecían abejas de oro. Las ramas de los sauces cosquilleaban el agua que se estremecía. Los cipreses altos, oscuros y terminados en punta parecían husos de donde salían los hilos que tejía el silencio maravilloso que envolvía este lugar. Entre la hierba habían gusanillos de luz.

The swallows crossed the enchantment of the afternoon and flew over the sleeping water. When the twilight was golden, the water turned honey-colored, the swallows wet the tips of their wings and as they rose, they dropped drops that looked like golden bees. The branches of the willows tickled the shivering water. The tall, dark, pointed cypress trees looked like spindles from which threads emerged, weaving the wonderful silence that wrapped this place. Among the grass were little worms of light.

Both FQ and LH have on their list the book Larga noche hacia mi madre by Carlos Cortės, published in 2013. The title would translate to something like ‘The long night towards my mother’ and it is a book about the intense hate that the narrator (Carlos? autofiction?) feels towards his mother (and the search for his fallen father, killed before Carlos’ birth). ‘Hate’ is probably the most used word in this book. It is intellectually interesting and well formed, with interesting psychology of the labyrinthine decadent family (with so many members that the lector loses the conductive thread at times). He is well read and connected with many things and incorporates interesting details that carry the narrative in some parts despite the core message that is the hate towards his mother. There are interesting, captivating parts (although not always easy to follow) but then it is again pages and pages of mommy issues and self-centerism of a man who hates his mother but abandons his own daughters to live in Paris with his young lover. I would like to see the book that they (the daughters) write about him. All that hate hate hate of the mentally ill mother makes me want to throw the book away. When he flies from Paris to his mother’s deathbed he ponders: “Do I hate her? Or do I just despise her? Or do I just not love her? Or what, if not? Is it all the same thing?” and that is the essence of this book. That swinging between the hate towards the mother and complicated stories of family members that at times form a cohesive structure and at times are just tiring anecdotes, and the enigma of the murdered father. Some family secrets yes but we get it, families have issues. I really disliked the first fifty pages, then somewhat enjoyed the following fifty but then the narrator briefly becomes the mother herself which is a bit too much. Then the last hundred pages are again at times interesting but not wholly. The whole book feels like a therapy narrative that the narrator (Carlos?) has written to himself in order to understand his own story but he fails to see how he carries the torch of the neglect forward. 

My friend FQ is a great fan of the poetry by Luis Chaves. In a short span of time, Luis has become the leading figure of Costa Rican poetry. His poetry books have won several national and international awards and nominations. Poetry is not my favourite genre (as can be seen from some of the previous Virtual Nomad entries) but I fully trust my friend and I give it a try. Published in 2001, Historias Polaroid is Luis’ third collection of poems and eagerly received by a growing public of fans. He was recently awarded the National Prize in Poetry by the Costa Rican Ministry of Culture. 

Now to the book itself. Poetry is not my favourite genre and poems need to be really sharp, rich and stuffed/filled (I am thinking of a Spanish word el relleno, the stuffing, filling something solid with something else) for me to like them. The poems of Luis achieve all that. This is poetry at its best and even if I did not love all the poems,  many were beautifully crafted and touching. With poetry, what happens is that they hit you or they don’t, and most of the time stay in the middleground. Most -not all – of the poems in this collection were a hit for me. 

As the sixth and last book of the Costa Rican stop, FQ recommends Fieras domésticas (2019) by Maria Montero but I am unable to access it. Therefore my friend LH comes to help and recommends some other authors (and other books from Anacristina and Carlos). I decide to go for Una mujer insignificante by Catalina Murillo, but the others recommended authors are Arabella Salaberry and Javier Tapia which I will now leave for a future occasion. 

“Days began to pass. I write this sentence and stop myself. I rethink it. Days began to pass, they say, as if they ever stopped. Better: the days passed us, paying no attention to us.”So, my last book for this stop comes from Catalina Murillo, an award-winning author who was born in a taxi in 1970. Una mujer significante (An insignificant woman), that she also won awards for, is from 2024. It is smart, hilarious, fresh, dynamic, short and very personal. Catalina’s writing is straightforward but poignant, and the language is so effortlessly rich – I almost feel like highlighting some of the thoughts and phrases. Catalina writes about her mother, just as Carlos did, but her writing is different; much more nuanced, fresh, contemporary – and notably less bitter. Sarcastic but never bitter, truthful but never cruel, hilarious but never pretentious, honest but never uncomfortable (well um, maybe just a bit). She approaches the theme of ‘insignificant women’ in such an ingenious way that it affects the perception of the reader. Such a simple but revealing theme – her mother is one of those women who are never considered as individuals but simply mothers or wives, those women that are always there but fade to the background into servitude for others. Her mother lives a life of convenience, following the social expectations of what is permitted,  and then for a short period becomes aware and in touch with her own spirit. It is such a simple but effective book that became my favourite of the Costa Rican stop. So raw and ingenious. I have not loved a book like this in a while. ¡Qué bárbaro!

The Costa Rican movie festival 

Costa Rica has a growing movie industry, and between 2011- 2017 over 50 movies were produced in the country. But before that, the development of cinema production was quite slow. The first ever directed and produced film in Costa Rica was El retorno (“the Return”) in 1930, but the movie industry did not get active really until the 2000s. In fact in the 1990s, there was only one movie made in Central America (El Silencio de Neto, Guatemala, 1994). But despite the growing production, distribution remains difficult. There are a number of very promising directors in Costa Rica, including a Sweden-born (to Costa Rican and Uruguayan parents) Nathalie Álvarez Mesėn who has a background in mime, physical acting and directing from studies in Costa Rica, Sweden and the US. Another prominent director is Antonella Sudasassi Furness from whom  I watch two films from as well as Laura Astorga and Sofia Quiros Ubeda. In the end, I feel very lucky to be able to see so many movies from this dear country, and the Costa Rican Movie Festival includes nine movies and one episode of a Netflix series (due to the fact that the documentary I really wanted to see is not out for streaming yet) which is a sublime treat. They are all quite amazing (well, nine out of ten even if I do have some love for the 10th as well). Despite broadly appreciating everything I saw, if I do have to pick my favourites (which is difficult), I would say  Princesas Rojas by Laura Astorga and Ceniza Negra by Sofia Quiros Ubeda. And maybe Tengo sueños eléctricos by Valentina Maurel: uncomfortable and unsettling but memorable. 

Clara Sola (2021) by Nathalie Álvarez Mesėn belongs to the powerhouse performance by Wendy Chinchilla Araya, a Costa Rican actress and principal dancer for the Costa Rican National Dance Company. Wendy has a strong physical presence in the movie as a 42 year old Clara who lives in a remote Costa Rican village under a repressive rule of a religious mother. Clara is a “special creature by nature” with a skewed spine and visited by the spirit of Virgin Mary (according to her mother). A child-like Clara struggles to understand the emotions she is having, including sexual awakening and slowly understanding the patronising and repressing environment that she has been forced into as a ‘freak of nature’. Understated and slow, the movie has great performance overall and is very powerful in portraying the effect religious moralism and control has on individual lives.

Both Nathalie and Wendy have a background in mime or physical theatre, and that shows in the poetic, visual language of the movie shot beautifully by Sophie Widen. More is said about how people move and look at each other than the dialogue that is used. Just how Clara stands in different scenes is important. The humid Costa Rican rainforest is a strong part of the story, and the connection that Clara feels to insects and nature around her. It is not probably a movie for everyone but I found it quite magnetic, similar to La Sirga (William Vega, 2013) that I watched for the Colombian entry; more is said in the silences and glances than in the spoken word. An amazing debut by Nathelie and I cannot wait to see more of her work (she has another movie under development).

Memorias de un cuerpo que arde (Memories of a Burning Body, 2024) by Antonella Sudasassi Furniss continues the theme of repressed female sexuality, this time through a real-life narrative of three women around the age of 70, interpreted by one 65-year-old woman. They reflect their sexually repressive youth and their current life. One of the women who happily announces that she is not dependent on anyone, also reflects on the loneliness of old age that is symbolised by things breaking down in her home. The narrative floats between the loneliness of old age and the memories of growing up as a girl in an environment of taboo and secrets. It is not groundbreaking in the depiction of the repression of female sexuality, but it is refreshing in giving voice to older women and their sensual regrets and desires. It feels a bit long, like a flow of memories. The sexual awakenings feel less interesting than the description of the domestic hell that comes later in the movie. The conventions of the time, the lack of opportunities and the later will and push to move things was for me a deeper and more interesting theme, even if I think it is great that the movie brings attention to sexuality in an older age in a society that worships youth. 

El Despertar de las Hormigas (the Awakening of the Ants, 2019) is another movie by Antonella Furniss. Antonella says about this movie that she wanted to “reflect on those small actions that teach us every day to please, serve, care for others, be married, be mothers, be there for others; inherited teachings and demands that do not arise from bad intentions, but from habit.” It has a similar energy and pace to the first movie I saw from her. It unfolds almost like a documentary and feels intimate which is great and not so great at the same time. It is great because of the subtle and personal portrayal of gender expectations through a very real and effective performance by Daniela Valenciano. It is also a burden because not much happens, even though the beginning of the movie is fantastic and says so much in little time. The main character is preparing a cake surrounded by her mother-in-law, sister-in-law, husband, children, etc. and the subtle and small interactions are ‘all-talking’. It is a small and quiet, well executed movie with a strong docufiction atmosphere, but not much dramatic development. 

One of my favourites of the Costa Rican Film Festival is Princesas Rojas, (Red Princesses, 2013) by Laura Astorga. Laura’s parents were involved in revolutionary activism in Central America in the 1970-80s and she spent her childhood in Nicaragua, Cuba, Costa Rica and Miami. This could be why the movie has such a strong personal presence – it is a story of a Costa Rican pro-Sandinist revolutionary family who flees Nicaragua back to Costa Rica, thus placing the family under danger of political persecution and family breakdown. The two girls of the family (aged 9 and 6) are adjusting to life in Costa Rica while needing to hide the ‘red’ past and navigating a difficult situation with the parents, who could face prison if revealed to be Sandinistas. 

The ideological tensions between tradition and building a new life for the family is brilliantly portrayed through the two girls. Their parents go missing from time to time and so many things are left unspoken. The chaos and confusion is well documented through the eyes of the girls, still just children adjusting to a new life with its challenges and longing for the red pioneer past that was so familiar. The acting from the girls is top notch, and the ending is superb, albeit devastating. It is also a movie in which the use of light seems to have a great importance – there is warm light in the interior scenes and nearly pastel light in the exterior shots. This is very different from the crude lighting of Tengo sueños eléctricos that I also watched for this stop. 

A dream-like Ceniza Negra (Land of Ashes, 2019) by Sofia Quiros Ubeda moves in the territory between reality and magical realism. It is a movie about transition: between childhood and adulthood, life and death, reality and mysticism. Wide-eyed Smashleen Gutiérrez as the 13-year old main character Selva (which means jungle, forest or rainforest) is a perfect choice for her role. She is loved by the camera. She is mesmerising and magnetic in a static film that relies on the mystical atmosphere of the coastal rain forests of a Caribbean sea beach village in the Province of Limón – where most of the Costa Rican Afro-descendent population lives. The nature of the region is strongly present, introduced as a cradle of magic, spirituality and connection with the unknown. It is a beautiful and peaceful movie with stunning photography and location. The actors are non professionals but very natural, very present. It is a beautiful, nearly haunting film in which the real and spiritual worlds overlap peacefully and moments are full of symbolism, calmness and ethereal stillness. 

El Sonido de las cosas (The Sound of Things, 2016) by Ariel Escalante, is a small movie about grief, or the inability to express grief. The blockage that some people have when faced with grief and loss, even if surrounded by well-meaning others. It is a small movie basically about that; an emotional blockage and finally the way to release it. It is an interesting, understated and intimate movie. Nothing spectacular or profound but I still enjoyed it. It follows the Costa Rican cinematographic tradition, that I have now seen in the previous movies, of long silences and long takes. The main character is often filmed standing on a quiet street smoking, walking down stairs, looking out the window. It is a skillful portrayal of understated grief. 

Tengo sueños eléctricos (I Have Electric Dreams, 2022) by Valentina Maurel is a movie that is ‘cruda’ (raw). It is an effective but uncomfortable portrayal of ugly parenting. After her parents divorce, 16-year-old Eva wants to live with her father. Her mother is renovating the house to erase all reminders of her challenging ex-husband, and Eva’s dad drifts between friends’ couches trying to find a place in life. The movie is at once harsh, moving, disturbing and uncomfortable. Eva’s troubled parents are very real people, and the adult life shows its unstable and unsettling face while she navigates the challenges of growing up. It is an uncomfortable movie about uncomfortable themes, but filmed with much sensitivity and care. People are ugly (not physically but in their actions) and lonesome. If growing up with dysfunctional parents was difficult in Laura’s Princesas Rojas, in this one, the soft nuances are gone and people and situations are raw and vibrantly unpleasant. The movie won several international awards and shows how unsettling and chaotic it is to grow up with parents with mental health struggles. 

Las Hijas (Sister & Sister, 2023) by Kattia González continues the theme of dysfunctional families and difficult fathers – and it is the 4th Costa Rican movie of this stop about two sisters. In this movie, the sisters travel from Costa Rica to Panama to look for their father whom they have not seen since they were small. 

It is a vibrant small movie about adolescence, summer holidays, relationships and a beautiful location of Panama. It is not exceptional in its portrayal of youth – kissing, drinking, dancing, worrying about aesthetics, sexual awakenings. The storyline with the father feels secondary to all the rest of teenage life. Compared to some of the other Costa Rican movies with sisters and family dynamics, it feels more shallow. There is nothing particularly wrong with it and it is entertaining enough, not just particularly memorable. 

El Pȧjaro de Fuego (Bird of Fire, 2021) by César Caro Cruz makes the noble intent similar to the movies of Colombian director Víctor Gaviria (see Vendedora de Rosas – the Rose Seller (1998) and Rodrigo D. No Futuro (1990) of the Colombia Virtual Nomad stop), using amateur actors from low-economic high-risk urban areas to tell a story loosely based on real events. It does not fully accomplish this task and rise to the level of its intentions, but is successful in filming life in La Carpio, one of the most populated, poorest and challenging neighbourhoods of Costa Rica and Central America, where 40,000 mostly undocumented immigrants are packed between two polluted rivers. The beginnings of La Carpio are in the immigration floods fleeing from poverty, natural disasters and the Nicaraguan civil war in the 1980s, and nowadays it is estimated that approximately half of the population in La Carpio is from Nicaragua or descendants. In Rodrigo D. No Futuro, the main character tried to find a way out of a high-risk criminal life through heavy metal and drumming, in this one the main character Tony wants to become a rapper and break dancer. But a plane full of cocaine falls into the neighbourhood (“a bird of fire”) and finding a way out of the spiral is challenging. 

The story itself suffers from a predictable, unoriginal plot that drags unnecessarily, honest but thin interpretations and a confusing ending, but the description of La Carpio and real surroundings are interesting. After all the amazing movies watched for the Costa Rican stop, this one falls flat and does not rise to the level of the other movies. 

The 2025 documentary El monaguillo, el cura y el jardinero (The Altar Boy, the Priest and the Gardener, 2025) is not available yet for streaming so I will have to wait to see it. It is a documentary about two men who take to court the priest that sexually abused them as children. Instead, I watch episode 3 of the Netflix series Live to 100: Secrets of the Blue Zones. The Blue Zones are five regions with the highest rates of living centenarians in the world (Okinawa, Japan; Sardinia, Italy; Ikaria, Greece; Loma Linda, California and Nicoya Peninsula, Costa Rica). Nicoya is situated in the Northwestern part of Costa Rica. The episode follows the secrets of healthy centenarians in Nicoya which include diet, dancing, continuous movement and family connections. 

The warm silk of Debi’s voice 

The national instrument in Costa Rica is Marimba which has its origin in African instruments. Marimba is also the national instrument of Guatemala, Nicaragua and Mexico. But when it comes to contemporary music, which is more interesting for our young Virtual Nomads, Debi Nova is probably the most successful Costa Rican artist. She started her career as a backup singer for several national and international artists until 2004 when she released her debut record. Debi is the most followed Costa Rican artist on Spotify and Apple Music, and the only one to have been nominated for a Grammy. She is the founder of Círculos 3:33, an all-female platform of support and empowerment. There is a beautiful clip on youtube of Debi Nova live at Paste Studio on the Road: LA that – in a stripped production and unplugged – really showcases her warm vocals. Her version of Juan Luis Guerra’s Bachata Rosa is also magnificent. 

P.S. My dear friend FQ reminded me, after writing this entry, that the favourite Costa Rican band of us both is CANTOAMERICA. The music of Cantoamérica takes its influence from the Afro-Caribbean heritage in Costa Rica. Since FQ said that, I have returned to listen to their music and it is indeed wonderful, highly recommended.

Next stop: Côte d’Ivoire

Thank you for your proofreading dearest L!

Is it a country or is it not? Cook Islands is a South Pacific nation of 15 islands in a free association with New Zealand, so some would not consider it sovereign but in the end, it is self-governing with its own distinct culture and foreign policy, custom regulations and defence. The official name in Cook Islands Māor is Kūki ‘Āirani which is a transliteration of “Cook Islands”. It has a fascinating history and great food. After the underwhelming RoC stop, this one was great, albeit short. 

But first, as always, food.

The Islands Party: the Cook Islands 

Sometimes the Virtual Nomad stops combine countries, just out of convenience for chefs and visitors involved. We decided to organise an Islands Afternoon Party to celebrate both Comoros (see a Virtual Nomad Comoros entry) and the Cook Islands which although quite different, both are island states composed of several islands and that is a good enough coincidence to host a garden party for these two. On a wonderful, slightly overcasted, early autumn afternoon we invite Virtual Nomads to the garden party and in the end twenty people show up. Most of the attendees have been to at least one or two food stops before but we also have two newbies in the group, one brought by my lovely friend AR (her first stop was Colombia). AR’s friend is actually my work colleague which was a nice surprise. And the other newbie is my son A’s (11) young friend.

As I was in charge of the Comoros food, other Virtual Nomads brought dishes from the Cook Islands. They are all quite amazing and super yummy. The Cook Islands are famous for the curry – and because the Cook Islands menu is an open invitation one (meaning this time Virtual Nomads were not assigned a menu item), we end up having two different chicken curries, both from seasoned Virtual Nomads. AK brings the one in the middle photo, and JD the one on the left. They are both well equipped in curries, and both have done a splendid job.

Migration has influenced the Cook Islands local cuisine over time, and Asian migration particularly has introduced diverse spices and cooking techniques. Spices such as curry powder, garam masala, herbs and turmeric are often combined with more tropical ingredients such as coconut. Chicken is commonly available in the islands, which has made chicken curry a popular, convenient and familiar dish. Chicken Curry has also been said to reflect the cultural blending of the Cook Islands; mixing together many local flavours and traditions to the point that it becomes a solid and hybrid element of the local culture.

My lovely Colombian friend TAV (who was in charge of the splendid Colombian Afternoon) and her family bring a dish called Mainese or more colloquially a Pink Potato Salad to the Islands Garden Party. It is a laborious salad to make but TAV is a masterful cook; it’s fresh and incredibly tasty. Mainese is a traditional salad dish that is typical especially in Rarotonga. It usually includes potatoes, carrots, beetroot (that gives the pink colour to the salad), eggs and other vegetables such as cucumbers or celery – and at times corned beef or tinned fish. The salad dressing is mostly mayonnaise.
According to several sources on food history, Mainese cannot be credited to one sole inventor but it is considered as a community-developed dish. By no means is it an ancient dish; it emerged sometime around the 1940s-1960s when European influence in the cuisine became stronger and canned foods started to be available. Just like with the chicken curry, the locals started to blend imported ingredients with locally available products. At the beginning, it was not a cheap dish as many of the imported products (mayonnaise, corned beef, beetroot) were expensive. It has become a ‘must-have’ in many family events and celebrations.

Umu/Umukai is not a dish itself, but a way of preparing food in a hot oven (usually underground) . The food itself is wrapped in banana leaves which makes the result very tender. My lovely neighbour PH used to have a restaurant and is a great chef. He arrives at the party later so those still there have the privilege to enjoy his amazing cooking; tender meat with vegetables in a banana leaf and really masterfully made. He accompanies that with small fish smoked in sea salt. Meats used in the way of Umukai can be anything from pork and chicken to fish mixed with local vegetables (breadfruit, cassava, sweet potato etc.). Umukai is one of the oldest continuous cooking traditions in the Pacific dating back to the ancestors of Cook Islanders from Eastern Polynesia. They brought the earth-oven cooking practice to the islands, similar to other practices around the Pacific (called Imu in Hawai‘i, Hāngī in Aotearoa New Zealand). It worked in islands that might not have an abundance of mechanical tools but rather volcanic stones, banana leaves and coconuts. In today’s Cook Islands, Umukai is practiced in more ceremonial events as modern technology has made cooking faster.

We also enjoy Banana Pudding Poke Cake served on a banana leaf.

Kūki ‘Āirani

The first settlers on the Cook Islands were Polynesian voyagers from different islands (Tahiti, Samoa, etc.) first settling in Rarotonga, and Maori ancestors who travelled in Vakas (large double-hulled canoes). The Cook Islands official website states that 87% of Cook Islanders are Polynesian Cook Island Maori. 

Travellers from Europe started to arrive in the 1500s as Spanish explorers sighted some of the islands. The Islands are named after Captain James Cook who landed in Manuae in 1773 and visited several islands 1773-77. In the 1820s the Christian missionaries arrived and their impact on the local culture was heavy. Christianity spread from island to island, and while the missionaries prohibited practices such as dancing, drumming and singing, the local culture survived and gradually island traditions were blended with Christianity. 

The islands were named Cook Islands in 1823 (previously known as Hervey Isles) and in 1888 they became part of the British Dominion, a move that was intended to block the French influence in the region. In 1901, the Islands’ administration was moved to New Zealand despite the opposition from local chiefs (each island had their own chief system). In 1965, Cook Islands became a self-governing state in free association with Aotearoa New Zealand. Cook Islands is in charge of its domestic policy and some foreign policy, while Aotearoa New Zealand is in charge of defence. This gives the Cook Islanders automatic New Zealand citizenship. In 2024, Prime Minister Mark Brown asked for Cook Islanders to have a separate passport while also retaining the Aotearoa New Zealand citizenship. This was rejected by Aotearoa New Zealand on the basis that Cook Islands cannot have its own passport unless it becomes fully independent. 

Today around 100,000 Cook Islanders live in Aotearoa New Zealand while the population on the islands is about 15,000. 

The Cook Islands has fifteen islands, with two main groups: the Southern Group (Rarotonga, Aitutaki, Mangaia, Atiu, Mauke, Mitiaro, Manuae, Takutea, Palmerston.) and the Northern Group (Penrhyn (Tongareva), Manihiki, Rakahanga, Pukapuka, Nassau, Suwarrow.). The Islands have three languages: Cook Islands Māori (with several dialects), Pukapukan (spoken in Pukapuka) and English. The capital is Avarua, located on the most populated island Rarotonga. 

Miss Ulysses from Puka-Puka

I absolutely loved Miss Ulysses from Puka-Puka: The Autobiography of a Sea Trader’s Daughter by Florence (Johnny) Frisbie. It is the first book ever written by a Pacific Islander woman and is based on the diaries of Johnny when she was 12-14 years old – and published in 1948 when she was 15. It is an absolutely delightful, vibrant and simple but joyful description of life in remote atolls and islands in the Pacific. It is written in a youthful and dynamic way through the lens of a child and how she observes the life around her. She travels around the Pacific with her father and three siblings and puts so much delicious energy in telling about growing up in Puka Puka (​​A remote atoll in the northern group of the Cook Islands, also formerly known as Danger Island) and learning how to survive in a demanding environment from an early age. She accompanies her father on travels and lives with the family in remote atolls, and describes her visits to Fiji and Samoa. 

The book is remarkable in that it is, what has been said “one of the earliest insider accounts of Polynesian island life written in English.” Johnny herself is the daughter of Robert Dean Frisbie who was an American author and trader who settled in Puka Puka with his local wife Ngatokoraa. Johnny writes in her diary about her childhood in the atoll with family, describing also the local customs, culture, celebrations, gender roles and how the community worked at that time. Someone stealing a wife for themselves was not a big deal, and children are left to roam independently from an early age. This helps Johnny and her siblings survive a 1942 cyclone  later in the book, a terrifying and traumatic event. Johnny talks a lot about her family; her American father who educates the kids and encourages them to write, her Puka Pukan mother who is gentle and loving, and on her deathbed makes her husband promise to keep the children together after her death (contrary to the Puka-Pukan tradition in which children should never live with a single father), and her four siblings (three of whom she shares a lot of time with and one brother in a boarding school). 

Johnny wrote a sequel to her first book, published in 1959, The Frisbies of the South Seas and there is a fascinating documentary about her returning to Puka Puka in 2021 The Island in Me. 

Stranded pearl 

There are not many locally made or produced feature films from the Cook Islands. One of the first is a 2024 feature film Stranded Pearl that made its way to international film festival circuits and in-flight entertainment in the Pacific. It is wonderful to see that it is currently available (2025) on some platforms which makes this pioneer movie from the Cook Islands more accessible for international audiences. 

Stranded Pearl (2024) by Ken Khan & Prashanth Gunasekaran and produced by the leading actor Anand Naidu is a lighthearted romantic comedy with gorgeous landscape and a silly plot. Filmed in Rarotonga, the movie almost serves as a travelling advertisement for the beautiful locations. The plot itself does not offer anything new; girl (entitled, rich brat) ends up on an island and meets boy (skillful but nervous native). Locations are great, the characters do not seem overly traumatised or desperate. While the story is silly and acting a bit clumsy, there is a lot of heart put into the movie making. A lot of local people were involved in the filming and production, which brings an ounce of authenticity to it. This said, it is not remarkable in dramatic terms. There are moments that are exaggerated that makes the audience think this was tongue-in-cheek deliberate. Nevertheless, it has its own charm and the location shots are beyond gorgeous. 

Apart from the fiction film Stranded Pearl, there are a few interesting documentaries available, and I choose to watch a 2022 documentary short Taonga: An Artist Activist by Glenda Tuaine on Michael Tavioni, a Cook Islands artist in his 70s who says that for him, art represents being next to god. Michael, or Mike, is a painter, poet, writer, cultural leader, canoe builder and traditional navigator. He is considered to be a master and protector of traditional cultural knowledge and has spent most of his life preserving, teaching, and revitalizing traditional Māori Kūki ‘Āirani arts. It is an interesting portrayal of Mike and gives a lot of space to his thoughts and practice. With his wife Tepaeru Maiata Tavioni, he founded Tavioni Arts in Rarotonga – a creative hub where they teach traditional arts and tattoo symbolism.

Next stop: Costa Rica

Thank you beautiful L for your proof reading!

There are two countries that carry the name Congo. – the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the Republic of the Congo (Congo-Brazzaville)  They are next to each other and share a similar culinary tradition but a separate history. Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Brazzaville, the capital of the Republic of the Congo, are the closest capitals in the world. They are separated by somewhere between one to three kilometres. A ferry between them takes ten minutes to actually cross the river (but with customs takes a bit longer). The relationship between the two has at times been tense but currently,the two are generally on good collaborative terms. 

After the Virtual Nomad stop in DRC which was so impactful and devastating at times, this stop was interesting, but felt a bit in-between, and I am not sure why. The food was similar to the DRC, there was only one movie available and the three books were intriguing but not the best of the Virtual Nomad literature journey. 

But first, as always, food.

Food: Five countries in one afternoon

When life gets incredibly busy and weeks are filled with final exams and end of year events, time slips through our fingers and there is less space for everything. We decided to organise a BIG Sunday afternoon for a few upcoming stops and celebrate Cabo Verde, Central African Republic, Chad, DRC and the Republic of Congo in one afternoon. This is not to say that these are similar countries or the same, it is just an opportunity to get people together for one big night and proceed on our Virtual Nomad path. Therefore this introduction will be the same for the five countries but each time the specific entry will focus on the country that the stop is about.

The African Afternoon gathers 30 people around th e table, a mix of seasoned Virtual Nomads and delightful newbies. Besides myself and my partner JK, we have my children A (11) and L (17), NA (18) and their lovely friend CC (17). Then on their 12th stop are AK, DK and their adult child AK (their other child MK usually comes along but today she is unfortunately sick). Other seasoned Nomads are dear friends JD, KD and their son KD (15), on their 7^th stop. A 4^th stop for L* and her daughter S*, our first friends in Australia. A 2^nd stop for our resident Canadian CL (see the stop for Canada) and his beautiful family wife JJ and children EL (10) and SL (12). A Wonderful fellow European CB comes to her 2^nd stop with her delightful daughters JB (11) and EB (8), bringing her husband CBB along (his first stop). And then we are lucky to have six great newbies – a joyous family of four KFFJ (including children aged 11 and 13) and a lovely couple ER that lives next door. And then of course my stepchild FK (15) and CH, Special Adviser to Virtual Nomad – she has been to over 140 countries and counting, and always joins in between her travels. A wonderful group of amazing people, and everyone brings a dish. 
In this entry, I will only talk about the DRC and the Republic of Congo (RoC) food of our happy, hilarious, joyful, warm and inviting African Afternoon. Many of the food traditions are shared between DRC and RoC as they both sit along the Congo River and have Bantu and Central African cultural roots. Therefore the food entry for both will be the same.

Congo Poulet Moambe – Moambe chicken is particularly popular in both the Republic of Congo and the DRC to the point that it is considered a national dish in both countries (as well as in Angola). It is usually prepared in moambe (palm butter sauce) with spices such as red pepper. In the DRC it is often cooked with peanut butter and served with cassava paste (as we do). In the RoC the onion-based palm oil is mixed with tomatoes and onions with spices like chili and garlic. The sensational Moambe chicken prepared by JD looks wonderful and the Virtual Nomads report to the vegetarians in the group that it tastes amazing. JD’s recipe follows more the tomato-based, lighter version of RoC than the heavier, peanut-butter filled DRC version. Nevertheless, this amazing dish follows the culinary traditions of both countries. Poulet Moambe is a very common dish in the region, especially in areas where meat is more accessible. Where meat is scarce, it can be replaced by fish.  

Okra is a very typical ingredient in both countries and commonly served in a stew. Okra is farmed in both DRC and RoC which makes it very available to be used in cooking. For the African Afternoon, I decide to prepare an okra stew in the Congolese way. For the stew, I chopped okras and cooked them together with onions, tomatoes and garlic. I did not use palm oil which is the most common strategy, but apart from that I followed the recipe as faithfully as possible. I cooked the ingredients in generous peanut butter which gave the dish a creamy, thick and lovely texture. This heavier version of the okra stew is most common in the Western part of DRC and in RoC; in the Eastern parts of DRC it is typically much lighter and cooked in coconut milk rather than peanut butter. The result was quite successful and yummy, and further established the sense that the peanut butter, like in other Western African dishes from previous stops, really gives the dish more flavour and texture. As okra is not a huge hit among the Virtual Nomads, this dish was highly enjoyed, which proves my point about peanut butter. 

My daughter L (then still 17) and NA are in charge of preparing the  Congolese beignets with mango sauce based on the dough that I have masterfully, at least I hope, prepared. The dough is a bit sticky and that makes the preparation difficult for our clever young people. Beignets are the most typical dessert in both countries. They are known as puff-puff in Western Africa and mikate in DRC and RoC. Dough balls prepared and deep fried in oil,  usually served with mango sauce and mint leaves. The dough is a simple yeasted dough with flour, sugar, water, and optional milk. Our beignets were more flat than round, but the result was nevertheless well received. 

Another dish that I prepared for this stop was the Kachumbari Salad. It is a typical Eastern African salad made of fresh tomatoes, onions, cilantro and chilli pepper, with lime juice and spices. It is more common in the Eastern parts of DRC where Swahili culture is strong. The DRC regions where Kachumbari Salad is a typical part of the kitchen are North Kivu Province (its capital Goma is a major site of internally displaced people and in 2025 is under the control of the March 23 paramilitary group),  South Kivu Province (its capital Bukavu is also under the control of M23 in 2025) and Tshopo Province (its capital Kisangani is the country’s most important inland port after Kinshasa). The Kachumbari salad has a very refreshing taste and accompanies some of the heavier dishes of our African Afternoon. It is less typical of RoC and therefore not included in its country stop. 

Plantains have a similar function in a Congolese kitchen (regarding both countries) as potatoes, maize or rice have in other countries. They are rich in fiber, potassium and carbohydrates. Makemba (fried plantains) is the most common form. Plantains have a similar texture to yuca, which we have tried in other Virtual Nomad stops. Fried plantains are often served as a side dish, just as they are for our gathering. AK is in charge of this dish and she brings a frier with her and prepares them in the front yard. She also uses a pepper sauce recipe for the plantains. She doubled it and used olive oil and jar chilli instead of canola and scotch bonnet chillies. She says it is because she had them and is of the opinion that canola is bad. The plantains were frozen and deep fried in peanut oil without any coating or anything extra. And they were delicious!

CH brings Palm Wine – fermented low alcohol drink collected / tapped from trees such as raffia palm and oil palm. Raffia palm usually grows in swampy areas, whereas oil palm is spread around both countries. In DRC and RoC, Palm Wine is collected through tapping, or cutting the trunk and is usually consumed fresh, most commonly the same day it has been tapped. This is not of course the case of our Palm Wine which is a more preserved product, but it still has a clear distinctive sweet taste. It has low alcohol content and it doesn’t taste very different from coconut water. Palm wine has an important role in the social and cultural life in both countries.

Many forms of governance

The Republic of the Congo (RoC) and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC, see previous Virtual Nomad stop) share many common historical roots. Both were inhabited by the Pygmees before the arrival of the Bantu people. The Portuguese arrived and traded with the powerful Kingdom of Kongo. And the RoC has gone from a kingdom to a colony to a marxist state to a dictatorship to a nominal democracy that is really not very democratic. And this with oil and wealth that has not truly been distributed even if the country has a higher standard of living than many of its neighbours. 

The first people to inhabit the banks of the Congo River were the Pygmies. Then the taller Bantu people arrived, as we have seen in other countries of the region. The Bantu had kingdoms that came and went. The powerful Kingdom of Kongo, (that existed from c.1390 until a much weaker version in 1914) was ‘discovered’ by the Portuguese in 1483. As in other parts of Africa, the arrival of Europeans changed the course of history. Local kings, such as the the rulers of the Kingdom of Kongo, were involved in slave trade and in exchange received European luxuries, including guns and other firearms. 

Where the RoC history differs from DRC is that while DRC was under Belgian rule, what nowadays is the Republic of the Congo was colonised by France and joined the French Equatorial Africa in the late 19th century. In 1958, the Republic of the Congo was established and in 1960 it gained independence from France. In 1969 it was named the People’s Republic of the Congo (until 1992) as it was a Marxist-Leninist state. The President from 1979 to 1992 was Denis Sassou Nguesso, who became president again in 1997 (after the Civil War 1997-98) until today. His regime has been accused of corruption and abuse of power. His defenders say he has brought stability to a country in a very volatile region, and critics say he and his family use state funds for personal gain, poverty rates stay high despite oil revenues, there is lack of transparent and fair elections, and abundant violations of human rights. His daughter married the President of Gabon (who had over 30 children with several women) tying the two countries close to each other. The family has had several scandals which make an engaging read to say the least. 

The capital of RoC is Brazzaville, named after an Italian-born French explorer Pierre Savorgnan de Brazza, described as a “peaceful explorer” compared to others of the era but nevertheless a colonist. He was working for France and negotiated a treaty with King Makoko to place the area under French protection. The French outpost was placed by the Congo River directly opposite what would become Leopoldville (today Kinshasa). 

Three books from Sony, Emmanuel and Alain 

While the cinematographic offer is very limited, there is a great variety of books and authors, some of them very famous. Probably the most globally recognised authors from the RoC include Sony Lab’ou Tansi, Emmanuel Dongala and Alain Mabanckou. I decide to read one book from each. 

Sony Lab’ou Tansi is considered to be one of the greatest African authors. He was born in the ‘Belgian Congo’ (present DRC) where his father was from. He moved to Congo-Brazzaville, where his mother was from, at an early age. He was politically active and part of the opposition movement. He died of AIDS in 1995 at the age of 37, after he was denied a passport for political reasons, therefore limiting his access to medical care. He is known for his books and plays, and for founding the Rocadu Zulu Theatre Company.

Sony’s books The African Saga (1994) and La Vie et Demie (Life and a Half, ) are considered classics of African postcolonial literature. The one accessible for me is La Vie et Demie, and only in French. It is also said to be one of the 100 best African books by the Leiden African Studies Centre (but this for me is an uneven merit as O testamento do Sr. Nepomuceno da Silva Araújo that I read for Cape Verde, and absolutely hated, is on that list). 

Anyway, back to this book. It has been said to be one of the monumental books so my expectations are high, and they do not fully fulfill. It is a complex, heavy and at times grotesque  book. It is satirical, cynical, confusing, very very violent (especially the beginning). It is set in a fictional African country that may or may not resemble Congo, ruled by a dictator called “the Providential Guide”. The heroes of the story are Chaidana (forced to marry the dictator) and the spirit of her martyr father. It is heavy with magical realism and not always for the better. But in general I did find it an interesting, maybe not captivating, tale of power, corruption, cruelty, resistance and survival.

Johnny Mad Dog by Emmanuel Dongala (2002) is famous for its movie adaptation (by Jean-Stéphane Sauvaire, 2008). The movie itself was set in Liberia and used first-time actors, some of whom were former child soldiers. I saw the film years ago and it left a strong impression. I did know at the time that it was based on a book, but it was a surprise that I was familiar with the story. 

The book has two protagonists, a 16-year old vicious child soldier Johnny Mad Dog and a 16-year old  Laokole who is part of the targeted civilian population.  It is fascinating at first and then loses steam towards the end. The stories of both are first interpolating and then come closer together. I might need to watch the film again to see whether it is still as impactful as it was all those years ago because the book does not rise to the same level of impact. It starts strong and the contrast between the two characters is striking. It becomes less powerful towards the end and drags a bit, but nevertheless, there are very powerful, disturbing and devastating images transmitted through the text. It is still quite a fascinating read even if, as said, it becomes less compelling.

Emmanuel himself has a very interesting life story. He is a chemist, specialised in stereochemistry, environmental toxicology and asymmetric synthesis. He was born in Brazzaville and studied in the US and France before returning to teach polymeric chemistry in Brazzaville. He combined his scientific career with art, founding a theatre group and writing. He had to leave RoC with his family during the Civil War 1997-98 and has lived in the US ever since, still combining science and the arts. 

My last book for RoC comes from Alain Mabanckou, probably the most prolific Congolese author,  nicknamed ‘the African Samuel Beckett’. He was born in Congo-Brazzaville and spent his childhood in a coastal town of Point-Noire in which Black Moses (2015) is situated. He lives in the US but is a French citizen and one of the most known French speaking African authors, and has won so many awards that I lost count of them.

The original name in French of Black Moses is Petit Piment (“Little Pepper”) and it is not the most acclaimed of Alain’s novels (but the one I found at the local library). He is best known for Verre cassé (Broken Glass, 2005) and Memoires de porc-épic (Memoirs of a Porcupine, 2006). I have both on my ‘to read in the future’ reading list because Black Moses did not completely achieve what I was expecting from it. It follows an orphan Moses, nicknamed ‘Little Pepper’ but with a very long and quite funny name given to him by one of his favourite adults. The first part (100 pages) of the book happens in a catholic orphanage in Pointe-Noire and it is the best part. It is clever, delicious, satirical, ironic and has a very good rhythm. It reflects political corruption, human decadence, solidarity and survival in a sharp way. When Moses leaves the orphanage and lives in Pointe-Noire the book becomes rushed and not completely thought through, and then a bit absurd when Moses has an emotional reaction that leads to a situation that feels a bit like lazy writing and a completely different story that just does not serve the whole well. The story does not come together again until the very last page, with a small clever scene. I was glad that I read the last page because it gave me some sense of satisfaction after a frustrating read of the last part of the book.

Only one movie

The Republic of Congo has a very small film industry with a long time between films. There have been a few pioneers including Sébastien Kamba who directed the first fiction film in 1964, called Le Peuple du Congo–Léo vaincra. Another important director was a France-educated Jean-Michel Tchissoukou, whose film M’Pongo (1982) is the one I set to find. What is really interesting about Jean-Michel is that he was assistant to Sarah Maldoror on Sambizanga (1972)  that I watched for the Angola stop of Virtual Nomad.

 I do not have access to a film I really wanted to see, Journey to Ouaga (2001) by Congolese director Camille Mouyéké. So, in the end I am lucky to find Jean-Michel’s films.  

M’Pongo / Les Lutteurs (English title the Wrestlers) by  Jean-Michel Tchissoukou (1982) is an interesting movie with strong intentions and uneven results. The central theme is built around a traditional Congolese form of wrestling, M’Pongo. M’Pongo was practiced in the Republic of Congo above all between 1930 and 1960 (the film itself is also situated in this timeline). It is a form of non-violent resistance-wrestling in which the intention is to flip the opponent into the ground. It is different from the other forms of wrestling practiced in both RoC and DCR; Voodoo Wrestling, Libanda and Kipura. In the film, the locations are beautiful and the insight into an old tradition is interesting. Wrestling is used as a symbolism between a generational divide and the tensions between the traditional and the modern/colonial, and as an expression of identity. It is an interesting film for what it intends to portray even if the plot is thin and the characters lack depth.

Next stop: the Cook Islands 

Thank you L for your proof reading!

After Algeria, the Democratic Republic of the Congo is the second largest country in Africa, and it is also the home of the second biggest rainforest in the world. Blessed with vast natural resources and cursed by years of armed conflicts and the shadow of one of the most brutal colonial rules, it is a country of high rates of malnutrition, poor education, insufficient infrastructure, widespread sexual violence and vast inequalities. Producer of 70% of the world’s cobalt, it is also home of one of the largest human displacements in the world. The Eastern side of Congo has been labeled as the most dangerous place for a woman in the world, and DRC has not only the highest rates of intimate-partner violence in the world with over half of the female population over 15 experiencing physical violence but also the highest rates of sexual violence in the world (for women and men). Not much to celebrate. 

One of the most important lessons of this stop is to recognise the fearless work of Congolese activists, including gynecologist and pastor Denis Mukwege whose work has helped nearly 100,000 women who are victims of sexual violence. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2018 (together with Iraqi Nadia Murad) for their “efforts to end the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war and armed conflict”. 

But first, as always. Food.

Food: Five countries in one afternoon

When life gets incredibly busy and weeks are filled with final exams and end of year events, time slips through our fingers and there is less space for everything. We decided to organise a BIG Sunday afternoon for a few upcoming stops and celebrate Cabo Verde, Central African Republic, Chad, DRC and the Republic of Congo in one afternoon. This is not to say that these are similar countries or the same, it is just an opportunity to get people together for one big night and proceed on our Virtual Nomad path. Therefore this introduction will be the same for the five countries but each time the specific entry will focus on the country that the stop is about.

The African Afternoon gathers 30 people around the table, a mix of seasoned Virtual Nomads and delightful newbies. Besides myself and my partner JK, we have my children A (11) and L (17), NA (18) and their lovely friend CC (17). Then on their 12th stop are AK, DK and their adult child AK (their other child MK usually comes along but today she is unfortunately sick). Other seasoned Nomads are dear friends JD, KD and their son KD (15), on their 7^th stop. A 4^th stop for L* and her daughter S*, our first friends in Australia. A 2^nd stop for our resident Canadian CL (see the stop for Canada) and his beautiful family wife JJ and children EL (10) and SL (12). A Wonderful fellow European CB comes to her 2^nd stop with her delightful daughters JB (11) and EB (8), bringing her husband CBB along (his first stop). And then we are lucky to have six great newbies – a joyous family of four KFFJ (including children aged 11 and 13) and a lovely couple ER that lives next door. And then of course my stepchild FK (15) and CH, Special Adviser to Virtual Nomad – she has been to over 140 countries and counting, and always joins in between her travels. A wonderful group of amazing people, and everyone brings a dish. 

In this entry, I will only talk about the DRC and the Republic of Congo (RoC) food of our happy, hilarious, joyful, warm and inviting African Afternoon. Many of the food traditions are shared between DRC and RoC as they both sit along the Congo River and have Bantu and Central African cultural roots. Therefore the food entry for both will be the same.

Congo Poulet Moambe – Moambe chicken is particularly popular in both the Republic of Congo and the DRC to the point that it is considered a national dish in both countries (as well as in Angola). It is usually prepared in moambe (palm butter sauce) with spices such as red pepper. In the DRC it is often cooked with peanut butter and served with cassava paste (as we do). In the RoC the onion-based palm oil is mixed with tomatoes and onions with spices like chili and garlic. The sensational Moambe chicken prepared by JD looks wonderful and the Virtual Nomads report to the vegetarians in the group that it tastes amazing. JD’s recipe follows more the tomato-based, lighter version of RoC than the heavier, peanut-butter filled DRC version. Nevertheless, this amazing dish follows the culinary traditions of both countries. Poulet Moambe is a very common dish in the region, especially in areas where meat is more accessible. Where meat is scarce, it can be replaced by fish. 

Okra is a very typical ingredient in both countries and commonly served in a stew. Okra is farmed in both DRC and RoC which makes it very available to be used in cooking. For the African Afternoon, I decide to prepare an okra stew in the Congolese way. For the stew, I chopped okras and cooked them together with onions, tomatoes and garlic. I did not use palm oil which is the most common strategy, but apart from that I followed the recipe as faithfully as possible. I cooked the ingredients in generous peanut butter which gave the dish a creamy, thick and lovely texture. This heavier version of the okra stew is most common in the Western part of DRC and in RoC; in the Eastern parts of DRC it is typically much lighter and cooked in coconut milk rather than peanut butter. The result was quite successful and yummy, and further established the sense that the peanut butter, like in other Western African dishes from previous stops, really gives the dish more flavour and texture. As okra is not a huge hit among the Virtual Nomads, this dish was highly enjoyed, which proves my point about peanut butter. 

My daughter L (then still 17) and NA are in charge of preparing the  Congolese beignets with mango sauce based on the dough that I have masterfully, at least I hope, prepared. The dough is a bit sticky and that makes the preparation difficult for our clever young people. Beignets are the most typical dessert in both countries. They are known as puff-puff in Western Africa and mikate in DRC and RoC. Dough balls prepared and deep fried in oil,  usually served with mango sauce and mint leaves. The dough is a simple yeasted dough with flour, sugar, water, and optional milk. Our beignets were more flat than round, but the result was nevertheless well received. 

Another dish that I prepared for this stop was the Kachumbari Salad. It is a typical Eastern African salad made of fresh tomatoes, onions, cilantro and chilli pepper, with lime juice and spices. It is more common in the Eastern parts of DRC where Swahili culture is strong. The DRC regions where Kachumbari Salad is a typical part of the kitchen are North Kivu Province (its capital Goma is a major site of internally displaced people and in 2025 is under the control of the March 23 paramilitary group),  South Kivu Province (its capital Bukavu is also under the control of M23 in 2025) and Tshopo Province (its capital Kisangani is the country’s most important inland port after Kinshasa). The Kachumbari salad has a very refreshing taste and accompanies some of the heavier dishes of our African Afternoon. It is less typical of RoC and therefore not included in its country stop.

Plantains have a similar function in a Congolese kitchen (regarding both countries) as potatoes, maize or rice have in other countries. They are rich in fiber, potassium and carbohydrates. Makemba (fried plantains) is the most common form. Plantains have a similar texture to yuca, which we have tried in other Virtual Nomad stops. Fried plantains are often served as a side dish, just as they are for our gathering. AK is in charge of this dish and she brings a frier with her and prepares them in the front yard. She also uses a pepper sauce recipe for the plantains. She doubled it and used olive oil and jar chilli instead of canola and scotch bonnet chillies. She says it is because she had them and is of the opinion that canola is bad. The plantains were frozen and deep fried in peanut oil without any coating or anything extra. And they were delicious! 

CH brings Palm Wine – fermented low alcohol drink collected / tapped from trees such as raffia palm and oil palm. Raffia palm usually grows in swampy areas, whereas oil palm is spread around both countries. In DRC and RoC, Palm Wine is collected through tapping, or cutting the trunk and is usually consumed fresh, most commonly the same day it has been tapped. This is not of course the case of our Palm Wine which is a more preserved product, but it still has a clear distinctive sweet taste. It has low alcohol content and it doesn’t taste very different from coconut water. Palm wine has an important role in the social and cultural life in both countries. 

The Dark tale of an exploited land

The history of DRC is a history of greed, violence, and devastating, long-lasting conflicts and exploitation. Millions of people have lost their lives during the armed conflicts and millions of people lost their lives during the extremely cruel colonial rule of King Leopold II of Belgium. One of the minerally richest countries in the world is exploited and abused, with civilians always carrying the toll of the atrocities. It is really hard to summarise all the injustices that have rained on the local population during the last decades, and centuries. 

The first people to inhabit the banks of the Congo River were the Pygmees. Then the taller Bantu people arrived, as we have seen in other countries of the region. The Bantu had kingdoms that came and went. The powerful Kingdom of Kongo, (that existed from c.1390 until 1914, ending much weaker than it began) was ‘discovered’ by the Portuguese in 1483. As in other parts of Africa, the arrival of Europeans changed the course of history. Local kings, such as the the rulers of the Kingdom of Kongo, were involved in slave trade and in exchange received European luxuries, including guns and other firearms.

In 1885, the Berlin Conference granted Congo to Belgian King Leopold II which led to one of the most brutal and horrific colonial chapters in human history, with an approximate death toll of 10-15 million people. The horror stories of killed and mutilated people took a while to reach the ‘Western world’ but once it did, in 1908 Belgium finally took over the administration. Independence finally came in 1960 with Patrice Lumumba as the first Prime Minister. He was tortured and executed in 1961. In 1965, the country entered a US-backed dictatorship ruled by Mobuto Sese Seko, who named the country Zaire and used country resources as his own possession while the people suffered. He was finally ousted as the result of the First Congo War (1996-97) and Laurent-Désiré Kabila became the president. The Second Congo War, the deadliest conflict since WWII took place (1998-2003) and Kabila was assassinated in 2001 by his bodyguard. His son Joseph Kabila became the president and stayed in power until 2019. Over one hundred armed groups have existed in the country and the Human Rights Watch report (2025) indicates that more than six million people have died in DRC in ethnic conflict and disputes over natural minerals. Many multinational companies from around the world have tried to take their slices which has not helped the situation. A peace agreement was signed in June 2025. However, the violence has not stopped and local population has suffered murder, mass killings and sexual violence. 

The several armed conflicts, ethnic tensions, culture of impunity and deeply rooted patriarchy are some of the reasons for the widespread sexual violence in the country, the highest rates being in the Eastern parts of DRC. The provinces of North and South Kivu have staggering statistics, with 40% of women having experienced sexual assaults with a large proportion of girls under 16. As of 2025 only, several international reports (Action Aid, Save the Children, etc.) show that sexual violence have increased 16-700% depending on the province. 

Four books from the rich and diverse land of also unthinkable horrors

The terror of the colonial rule of King Leopold II of Belgium was largely ignored until the publication of the book King Leopold’s Ghost: A Story of Greed, Terror, and Heroism in Colonial Africa by American author and journalist Adam Hochschild (1998; new edition, 2006). It was, at first, a controversial book in Belgium where King Leopold had been considered to be a “civilizing force” despite the evidence that his rule was one of terror, exploitation and abuse. The book exposed the horrors of colonialism, the tyranny and the atrocities towards the people in the Congo which had led to the death of approximately 10-15 million people (according to most estimates, the real number will never be known). This legacy of terror had been largely ignored for nearly a hundred years, buried under the political unrest and the effect of the cruel dictatorship in the country. The book reignited conversations around colonialism, systematic racism and economic exploitation of natural resources by foreign (and domestic) forces. 

It is a remarkable book. Thoroughly researched and really well written. It exposes the tyranny and cold calculation of Leopold but also the greed, lies and weaknesses of his supporters and of colonial, Western and domestic powers that have led to today’s tragedies. Good outsiders are very few and far between, but they are also given space and credit, including George Washington Williams who was one of the first to denounce the atrocities taking place under colonial rule, or E.D.Morel. Roger Casament and Alice & John Harries, as well as the nameless voiceless local people who Adam tries his best to find sources that give voice to them. It is really a remarkable book that should be mandatory reading on the abuses of power and greed that is not singular to DRC, but visible in so many places. I had wanted to read this book for a long time, and it is worthy of its praise. 

“When it came to war, my parents could shelter us from only so much. I knew the sounds of war before I knew how to do a cartwheel. I became accustomed to those sounds as a kid, I was never afraid of imaginary monsters at night, the monster I knew walked in daylight and carried big guns.” 

Sandra Uwiringiyimana belongs to the Banyamulenge ethnic group, sometimes referred to as the Congolese Tutsi. She is a survivor of the 2004 Gatumba massacre, an attack on a refugee camp in Burundi close to the border with DRC. The massacre was carried out by the Forces for National Liberation, a Burundi-based political party and former rebel group. Sandra’s family had escaped violence in her native DRC (South Kivu) and pushed the family into refugee status. Banyamulenge are ethnically linked to Tutsi in Rwanda and Burundi, and they predominantly speak Kinyarwanda. 

The book could be described roughly in two parts; first the description of Sandra’s idyllic childhood with her parents and five siblings, the threat of violence, the escape and the life as a refugee in neighbouring countries. The second part is about life in the United States, the race relations, the struggles as a refugee and finding a voice. 

It is a powerful memoir, written in quite simple and accessible language. It has its flaws and the overall quality is uneven, but it overcomes these obstacles with emotional power. I felt as engaged with the description of the stateless refugee status in Africa as the observations on race relations and what it means to be black African in the United States. It is another reminder of the emotional burden of forced otherness, and the absurdity of political and ethnicity based violence and discrimination. 

Fiston Mwanza Mujila took the literary world by storm in 2015 when the English translation of his debut novel Tram 83 was published. It centers around a club called Tram 83 in a fictional African city (that could be Lulumbashi where Fiston is from). Fiston currently lives in Austria where he teaches African literature and it is said that his writing is influenced by the turbulent times of his childhood and youth in DRC. 

The book itself is the sort of book that literature critics love. It has “fragmented poetic scenery” as one reviewer wrote. The text is frantic, twisting and baffling – and a bit hard to get into. There are two main characters: a corrupted, scheming, sex-crazy Requiem and an emotional, semi-intellectual writer Lucien. There is not much of a story, as the narrative is based on the language rather than a plot, and sometimes resembles a semi stream-of-conscious style or indeed, poetry. Female characters are mainly sex workers, single mothers or underage girls who serve as props to the story more than fleshed-out characters. There is a lot of sex in the book, especially easily-accessed sex offered by prostitutes through the “Do you have the time” proposal,  repeated a lot in the book. 

It is an interesting piece of writing and I can understand why many love it. It is fragmented, contains long lists of things and mixes poetic language with prose. It succeeds in linguistic acrobatics and musical narrative, a description of a decadent place and urban jungle that mixes prostitution with miners, politicians, students and drifters such as Requiem and Lucien. It is experimental and musical in its poetry which at times is effective and interesting, and other times gimmicky and tiring. When I read other reviews of the book, many say that the book describes the chaos of a modern African city very well, as if it was played by jazz music. I did not ever get fully engaged apart from interesting moments here and there.

“I don’t live in exile, exile lives in me”

“Not blood but the Congo River sloshes in my veins”
My last book for DRC comes again from Fiston. It is in the genre that is not my favourite, poetry, but I give it a try as it is dedicated to the Congo River and its mighty power. In this book, the Congo River is not only a mythological strong body of water but a witness to atrocities, violence, environmental damage and loss. The book contains 101 numbered “solitudes”, with different lengths and styles which makes the book feel more like experimental narrative than poetry, and that makes it more interesting for me. The solitudes are not only reflections of violence and destruction but also a cradle of longing for the past, longing for home and a sense of belonging (as Fiston lives in Austria). I read the translation in English so I might have missed some important nuances (there are words from Lingala and Swahili embedded in the text), but in general the language is graphic and intentional in its rawness.

Disappointing fiction and skillful documentaries

Film production in the DRC is scarce and evidently affected by the armed conflict and instability in the country. After independence, there were a few films made, but Belgian-educated, Congolese film pioneer Djo Tunda Wa Munga, revitalised the film industry by funding the first film school and first production company in Kinshasa. He left DCR as a child but returned at the end of the dictatorship of Mobuto Sese Seko. His first big gig in DCR was to be the production manager of a BBC series Congo: White King, Red Rubber and Black Death (2002) about the terror of the times of King Leopold II. Currently the film industry is slowly growing and there are about 36 film production companies in the DCR. Congo Rising and CongoFilmz are among initiatives to revitalise the Congolese movie industry. 

There is not much to choose from, but luckily I find access to six cinematographic products, some of which I enjoyed more than others. I am overall pleased that there is the possibility to see Congolese made film, and additionally happy to see the movies Sema, supported by Nobel Peace Prize winner, the amazing Denis Mukwege, and Downstream to Kinshasa, about the survivors of an armed conflict in Kisangali. The rest of the documentaries, the outstanding Viranga and City of Joy are also absolutely remarkable (and currently available on Netflix – 2025). Overall, it is the fiction that proves to be disappointing, as the documentaries are impactful and very skilled. 

Viva Riva (2010) by Djo Tunda Wa Munga was the first Congolese film filmed and produced in the DRC in 28 years. It was successful with critics and audiences alike, and won many awards, including several Africa Movie Awards and a MTV Movie Award (Best African Movie). It is a fast-paced crime movie with lots of sex, violence and action. A small hustler Riva steals from an Angolan gangster who enlists a lesbian commandant to find Riva. In the meanwhile, Riva falls for the wife of a Kinshasa gangster who he sees urinating (the wife, not the gangster) in a scene that is also shown to the audience and feels exploitative and unnecessary. What follows is a parade of two timings, betrayals left and right, every person for themselves and a lot of beatings, some gratuitous sex, overarching misogyny and a lil’ bit of domestic violence. Women in general are beaten and abused, the plot is not overly interesting and tries too much. The interesting bit is the portrayal of Kinshasa, the landscape and its people. I read several interviews of Djo and his intention of showing the dark side of Kinshasa, the side that everyone knows that exists but is not talked about. I feel that I did not need to see that, but there are quite a few enthusiastic people that did, based on the reviews the movie received. I can see the interest and value of this movie, but I did not enjoy it myself – except of course for the interesting urban landscape and its people, the aesthetics and glimpses of the environment.

The Six-Day War was a June 2000 confrontation between Rwandan and Ugandan armed forces around Kisangani, the capital of the Congolese province of Tshopo. The conflict resulted in more than 1000 dead and 3000 wounded. Downstream to Kinshasa (Dieudo Hamadi, 2020) is a documentary that follows survivors of the war on their way to Kinshasa to seek compensation. Many of them have not only lost family members but were wounded in the aftermath, several with one or more limbs missing. The documentary follows the community preparing the trip to Kinshasa, and their trip down the river (sometimes days in pouring rain) and then their stay in Kinshasa. Parallel to the trip is a theatre performance prepared by the survivors.

Dieudo is a Congolese filmmaker with a strong social calling and tendency to explore critical societal issues. He studied medicine before entering the film and documentary world, and his documentaries have won several international awards. He has achieved a very human and touching documentary that celebrates and underlines the bravery, spirit and strength of these people without infantilising, patronising or instrumentalising his subjects. It is a documentary about the tragedy of 2000, but also about the richness of individuals and the diversity of their characters.

There are several foreign-produced documentaries filmed by European and There are several foreign-produced documentaries filmed by European and North American film makers. While the intention of Virtual Nomad is to prioritise the local film industry, sometimes these foreign productions are worth a watch. This is the case of Virunga, a documentary on the park rangers of the Virunga National Park during the increased activity of the rebellion group M23, or March 23, and the plans of oil expeditions in the area of a multinational company SOCO. Directed by a British director, Orlando von Einsiedel in 2012, it did help to bring attention to the park, the last remaining living place of mountain gorillas, and stop the oil explorations. Virunga is a UNESCO World Heritage site and the rangers do an incredibly important and dangerous job in protecting the park wildlife and supporting restoration. Several rangers have lost their lives in the process. The documentary shows very touching moments, including a gorilla caretaker André Bauma (who is basically a foster parent to four small gorillas whose parents were killed by poachers) telling how his father, who perished in the neverending Congo war, taught him to love and care for animals. “Today I am doing what my father created in my heart when I was a little boy,”.. He says, when the armed conflict is getting nearer, that he is ready to die for the gorillas he takes care of. The documentary also follows three other people; park warden Rodrigue Mugaruka Katembo (who after fleeing from being recruited a child soldier later risked his life in exposing the SOCO corruption attempts), chief warden Emmanuel de Merode (who was shot in an assassination attempt in 2014 – he has received several awards and is the director of the Virunga National Park); and a French investigative journalist Mélanie Gouby.
Ndakasi, one the world’s most famous mountain gorillas, is part of the document. She died in 2021 and the photo of her dying in André’s arms is world famous.  The Senkwekwe Center where André works, is the only facility in the world for orphaned mountain gorillas.

(Photo: Getty Images) 

The situation in the park more than ten years later is not much better and conservation efforts are disrupted for safety concerns due to continuing armed conflict. Many parts of the park are closed, tourism has stopped and conservation efforts have suffered. Around 200 park rangers have lost their lives in protecting the park.

André’s and others work can be supported at: https://virunga.org/support-us/donate/

Sema by Machérie Ekwa Bahango (2020) is a movie made in partnership with the National Movement of Survivors of Rape and Sexual Violence in DR Congo. Sexual violence in the DRC is widespread and the DRC has long been labeled as the “rape capital of the world”. Sexual violence is particularly frequent in the Eastern part of the country and Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF – Doctors Without Borders) has reported an increase in sexual violence as a result of the armed conflict, in which the different parties use sexual violence as a weapon to terrorise local populations. The movie Sema shows not only the traumatic event of mass rape but also the stigma and impunity that often follows the rape victims. Raped women are abandoned by their husbands and families, and the children born out of rape chastised and isolated from the community. The victims trying to find justice see the perpetrators go unpunished and unharmed. The movie won Best International Film and the DC Independent Film Festival, and even with its flaws is a truly remarkable, deeply alarming and an important movie – from the region labeled as the most dangerous to be a woman in the world. 
It is based on the idea of Dr Denis Mukwege, Congolese gynecologist and a pastor, winner of a Nobel Peace Prize (2018). He is the founder of the Panzi hospital that treats women who have been raped by armed forces. He has been called “the world’s leading expert on repairing injuries of rape” and he is famous for working tiredlessly and nearly without rest to help as many victims as possible. He left DRC in 2012 due to a failed assassination attempt but returned in 2013 – and his patients paid his return ticket by selling pineapples and onions. His hospital has treated nearly 100,000 women and he is a fierce speaker revealing the consequences of rape as a weapon of war. It is hard to do justice for all the work that he has done.

Another foreign-produced documentary about the rampant sexual violence in the country and the important work of Dr Denis Mukwege is the outstanding documentary City of Joy by Madeleine Gavin (2016). Dr Denis and Mama Christine (Christine Schuler Deschryver) founded City of Joy, a training centre for female survivors of sexual violence. The centre trains 180 women every day to become leaders in their communities and give their means to survive the shame that follows sexual violence. 

The documentary shows the connection between the fight for mineral sources and sexual violence – where there is mining, there is an increase of systematic rape. Rape is used as a weapon of war, sexual terrorism as Mama Christine calls it. Foreign companies fund the militia who used rape and mutilation to break communities and bring shame to families. 

The documentary describes the horrific forms of systematic rape and the profound devastation  faced by survivors. Some of the stories are so heartbreaking that it is almost impossible to imagine someone could cause such suffering to another human. But while the documentary does not shy away from the individual stories of sexual terrorism, it underlines the compassion, empathy, joy and companionship that comes from taking collective and individual ownership of one’s story and injecting joy and love in survival. It is a remarkable documentary of remarkable people; Dr Denis (whose life due to the death threats is limited to travelling between the hospital and the City of Joy with seven bodyguards), Mama Christine and survivors like Jane, a fountain of joy and survival of the most unfathomable experience possible. (Mama Christine also has an impactful TED talk about the five tenets of the City of Joy for turning pain into power).

This Virtual Nomad stop has been devastating and heartbreaking but at the same time impressed by the outstanding human dignity and quality of those who unselfishly work for a better world through caring for others and the environment we live in. To learn more about these people has been the greatest gift of this stop.

Next stop: the Republic of the Congo 

“Where is this country” is the first question from the Virtual Nomad community. The tiny Comoros is a fairly unknown island nation off the coast of Mozambique, between Madagascar and mainland Africa – and one of the 54 African countries. It constitutes three major islands (Grande Comore, Mohéli and Anjouan – the local names of these islands are Ngazidja, Mwali and Nzwani), and several smaller islands. Close by is the island of Mayotte, an overseas department of France, disputed by Comoros – the two referendums in 1974 and 2009 have kept Mayotte as part of France. Comoros itself became independent from France in 1975.

But first, as always. Food. 

The Islands Party: Comoros 

Sometimes the Virtual Nomad stops combine countries, just out of convenience, and this is the case with Comoros. We decide to organise an Islands Afternoon Party to celebrate both Comoros and the Cook Islands, which are quite different in other aspects, but are both island states of several islands. That is a good enough reason for us to host a garden party for these two! On a wonderful, slightly overcasted early autumn afternoon we invite Virtual Nomads to a garden party, and in the end, over twenty nomads show up. Most of the attendees have been to at least one or two food stops before, but we also have two newbies in the group, one brought by my lovely friend AR (her first stop was Colombia). AR’s friend is actually my work colleague which was a nice surprise. And the other newbie is my son A’s (11) young friend. In the end, we have 22 people at the garden party. 

As for the Comoros menu, that is my responsibility. I have set my sights on four different Comorian dishes but in the end, as I cannot find breadfruit in Sydney to prepare Inafliton Lemai (a popular snack in Comoros made of breadfruit, salt and coconut oil) so I end up preparing only three. The national food of Comoros is Langouste à la Vanille (Vanilla Lobster) but not only is that expensive to prepare and hard to find, I also do not trust that my ability would result in a good result. Therefore I go for Mshakiki, a dish of skewered and grilled meat marinated with spices. I prepare the marinade (lemon, salt, black pepper, cumin, turmeric, chilli, garlic, onion, ginger, coriander, and a little bit of kiwi) the night before, and then prepare the dish in the oven for several hours.  Traditionally it is prepared on a charcoal grill, but I trust my oven to do at least a decent job. Mshakiki is a common dish during Ramadan and is said to blend several culinary traditions – African,Arabic, Indian and French. It is also typical in Yemen and some Eastern African countries. It is a well received dish. I do not eat meat myself but the strong blend of spices gives the dish a very pleasant aroma. It does not look exactly as it should (as I am not a masterchef) but the taste is what matters and by the end of the afternoon, the dish has disappeared. 

Mshakiki is often served with flatbread, or yeasted leavened bread with sesame seeds, called Mkatra Foutra. It is an easy dish to make and I get A (11) to help me in the preparation. What makes it different from a ‘normal’ flatbread is that it is prepared with coconut milk. It is a very easy recipe with eggs, yeast, flour (both wholemeal and all purpose flour) and warm water. I did prepare a gluten free-option as well which was not a complete success but edible enough. 

My third Comoros dish is called Soupe Faux Pois (meaning a fake pea soup) – a refreshing pea soup. Not everyone in our Virtual Nomad party is a fan of peas and some give it a pass. But in the end it is quite a light, refreshing soup – but yes, with a lot of peas. The base is coconut milk again, and besides peas it has onion, tomatoes, and spices (cumin, coriander, cayenne, garlic). It has been called the national soup of Comoros and is often served as a starter to more substantial meals. Like many features of the Comorian cuisine, it is a fusion of African, French and Arab influences. It is served cold, so it works well on a warm autumn afternoon.

Islands in the sea 

As mentioned before, Comoros is made of three major islands and some smaller islands. The name of the country, Comoros, comes from an Arabic word al-qamar, meaning the moon. The first settlers were likely the Bantu people, who were then joined by Persian and Arab traders. The islands became important ports of trade, which also meant the spread of Islam around the 10th century. The islands were also visited frequently by the Portuguese and then by the 19th century, France had also taken interest. First, they claimed Mayotte (that still is an overseas department of France) and then, in 1886, the rest of the islands. Comoros (sans Mayotte) gained independence in 1975 but turbulent times followed, with coups, political instability and several presidents, some worse than others. The current president Azali Assoumani has been in power since 2016 but the country’s elections have been accused of being rigged and fraudulent. Comoros does not score well in terms of transparency, and corruption is rampant. Comoros is a fairly poor country with most of the population finding their livelihood in agriculture. 

One book from Comoros 

As for books from Comoros, I decide to read only one book, as the offer is not very broad and apart from one or two books, also not very accessible. 

Ali Zamir (born in 1987) is an author from the island of Anjouan, the second largest island of the Comoros, who studies French literature and lived in France for a while. Ali’s debut, A Girl Called Eel (2016) won several awards, including the Prix Senghor in 2016. Since 2014, he has been the Director of Culture and Cooperative Activities in Anjouan. 

“He didn’t realise that although you can overpower the body and keep it immobilised and lifeless, you can’t pin down the souls, it won’t be forced to the ground with broken wings.” 

This is an unusual book – it is basically one sentence for 300 pages (divided in five parts), a stream of consciousness of a drowning 17-year old girl Eel (Anguille) who remembers her life in one prolonged sentence (or a breath). She seems to talk to her own mind as she rambles, as teenagers sometimes do, from one theme to another, sometimes sounding very mature and sometimes very young. She has a twin called Rattler, a father called All-Knowing and a lover called Veracious. She lives in the city of Mutsumudu, on Anjouan and she describes what her life was like. It offers a fascinating glimpse of life in the Comoros, but the themes are universal – hope and betrayal. The pace of the narrative sometimes tumbles which I understand is meant to seem like her distorted thinking when approaching death.  It is a story in which winners are few, losers are many but also the survivors are surprising. 

Absences, residences and the grand marriage 

Not surprisingly, there are not many films made in Comoros. The first feature film was a 2000 comedy film Yéyamba Wandzé Mdrou Ndo? by Arsin Soiby. It is not available on any viewing platform so unfortunately we are not able to watch it for this stop. Fortunately we can watch a short film made in Comoros, and a super interesting documentary about a fundamentally important cultural tradition for the Comoran society, the Grand Marriage. 

La Résidence Ylang Ylang (2008) is a short fiction shot on 35mm and written and directed by Hachimiya Ahamada who was born in France to Comorian parents. She has directed a few documentaries about the Comoros – especially about immigration, from both angles; those that leave and those that stay.  La Résidence Ylang Ylang runs only for 20 minutes but deals with  the theme of immigration in a deeply touching way. A villager Djibril takes care of his brother’s house – the brother left the country over twenty years ago and seems to not be coming back. The islanders like Djibril live in huts made of straw or metal while the village is filled with empty houses (of permanent structures) built by those that have left the country. When Djibril’s hut burns down, he is faced with the decision of whether or not to move to his brother’s empty house. Hachimiya’s most recent film Ivresse d’une Oasis (2011) “explores the relationship between the inhabitants of the Comoros and the Comorian Diaspora that return to the homeland”. 

Le gran marriage (2013) is a documentary by Faisal Al Otaibi (produced by Al-Jazeera) that explores the importance of the traditional Grand Marriage in the Comoran culture. The Grand Marriage is a Comoran tradition that has been passed from generation to generation. The basic idea is that the Grand Marriage takes place some three to twenty years after the first wedding (the “small wedding”). In general the couple saves for years to have the celebration that in general takes about a week, and it is very important to obtain social status, and some traditional

costumes are allowed for men only after they have celebrated the Grand Marriage – they gain new social status as full adult members of the society.  The preparations for the grand wedding might take up ten years. It is an important social rite and an important part of a person’s social standing, and the respect they have from the people and community of Comoros.  

In the documentary, a former government minister Yehia Mohamed Elias married his first wife twenty years ago and they have seven children. He also married another, younger, woman two years ago – and he wants to celebrate le Gran Marriage with both. This is the first time that anyone has celebrated Le Gran Marriage with two wives – some men do have several wives but then celebrate the Grand Marriage only with one of them. In Yehia’s case,  the first wife approves, and says she loves her husband even more after he married the other young wife. But at 23 minutes of the documentary she says ”I have done my best to make him happy. This did not stop him from taking a second wife”, and then she assures that she approves of this and that she thinks he even waited too long for taking another wife. 

The preparation is important and when it comes to the wife/wives, a beauty process is a must and can take up to six months. It is called Mesenzal, and it takes place at night in order to make the bride “as beautiful as the moon”. 

It is a super interesting and easily digestible (50 minutes) documentary that truly shows the importance of this tradition and ritual in Comoran society. It is eye opening and informative, but also shows well the Comoran natural and human landscape, and that is even more interesting than the tradition itself. 

This was an interesting stop about a country that we knew so little about.

Thank you L for proofreading

Next stop: The Democratic Republic of the Congo

Colombians are often crowned as the happiest people on the planet, and are famous for their hospitality, joy for life and bubbly energy. I have several close Colombian friends and I agree with these sentiments. They are joyful and magnetic people. 

Colombia is a country made famous by a range of vastly different things, such as coffee production, drug lords, the non-lying hips of Shakira and the magical realism of Gabriel Garcia Márquez. Battered by a long-standing internal violent conflict, it is an amazingly friendly country of breathtaking landscapes and interesting culture. 

But first, as always. Food.

La tarde colombiana – the Colombian afternoon

I have a wonderful Colombian friend in Sydney, TAV. She is super smart, has an infectious smile and a beautiful family. When we invited her to curate the Colombian Afternoon, she enthusiastically jumped into the task, designed the menu, prepared a large quantity of sensational food, built a playlist of Colombian music and, on the day, ran our activities with efficiency, humour and warm energy. The Colombian afternoon was an outstanding success with amazing, rich flavours and a crowd of 26 people combining seasoned Virtual Nomads and several newbies. It was a wonderfully diverse group of people of different origins and a lot of kids running around. Apart from the several seasoned nomads (fellow Europeans KB and K+ with their families, DK and AK with their family, and my partner JK and our combined children L (18), FK (15), A (11) accompanied by NA (18). We also welcomed to the tribe my wonderful American friend AR, my lovely old friend NE with her incredibly cute very young son and my beautiful friend LW, a human rights warrior. And then of course our in-house Colombian TAV and her beautiful family.

When I met with TAV to plan the menu, she suggested that we order some Colombian delicatessen online. As TAV already decided to make quite a few of the planned dishes, I offered to carry out the ordering. I used the online option of Fruta Foods  – which was not only incredibly efficient, but also had outstanding customer service and high quality products. I could not praise this little business more. What was on my list were cheese arepas, green plantains, yellow potatoes, cassava croquettes, and other Colombian delicia. I still had no idea how to prepare them, but lucky as we were, TAV took over on the day to make sure that the food would be perfect. And it was!

The essential part of the Colombian kitchen is Arepas and Empanadas. TAV prepared meat and cheese empanadas with a delicious sauce. Empanadas are said to be originally from Galicia in Spain and brought to Latin America during Spanish colonisation. ‘Empanar’ in fact means to “wrap in bread or dough”. Colombians, like other Latin Americans, have adapted the recipe and localised it according to available resources. In Colombia (like in Venezuela) empanadas are prepared with corn flour, and usually contain meat, chicken or cheese filling. TAV is incredibly skilled with her cooking, and the present Virtual Nomads are completely gobsmacked with how rich and delicious food can be. I have bought some Arepas con queso from Fruta Foods. Arepas are round, flat cake-like patties made of white or yellow corn. The cheese filled arepa is a very popular choice and is delicious – but not as delicious as the homemade empanadas TAV brings. 

In my Colombia-box, there are Cassava Croquettes that are made of yuca. TAV placed them in the air fryer and made sure that they were crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. For TAV it is important that we get to taste different traditional foods all around Colombia – yuca is very typical of coastal, Amazonian and Andean regions, being used instead of potatoes or rice. Cassava croquettes are similar to French fries made of potato. Yuca is native to South America and was first cultivated by Amazonian rainforest Indigenous peoples. It is a good starch to grow in challenging climates (such as arid environments and tropics). Yuca has a musical Latin name, Manihot Esculenta and it is an energy-rich food. Yuca should never be eaten raw but properly prepared. The Virtual Nomads turn out to be big fans of yuca and the bowl is empty in record time. 

As part of the goody box, we also have flat green plantains and preparing them is a bit of an art. Just like yuca, they are supposed to be crunchy on top but soft on the inside and again it is TAV that supervises the preparation. In Colombia, green plantains are served in different forms and on our Colombian Night, TAV prepared them as patacones (tostones) which are often served as appetizers with the hogao sauce (that my old friend NE brings). Hogao sauce is a tomato-onion sauce used to accompany many dishes in Colombian cuisine, particularly in the Andean region. It is said to be a dish of mixed origin – Indigenous, Spanish and African. It is often associated with the Antioquia region (where Medellin is situated). The patacones and hogao sauce is a fantastic combination. 

Fellow Europeans KB and K+ (with their families) prepared one rice-based dish each. KB and family brought arroz con coco – rice with coconut. It is a traditional dish of the Caribbean coast (where there is easy access to coconuts) and has strong roots in Afro-Colombian heritage. It is prepared with rice, coconut, salt and sugar, and raisins that give it a sweet taste. K+ (and family) brought arroz con pollo – rice with chicken. (L proofreader note: very convenient names!) Arroz con pollo is not unique to Colombia but a very typical dish in the region with local variations. It is still a very constant feature of the Colombian kitchen and often home-made regular family food. Both rice dishes are delicious and taste very authentic. 

AK brought carne desmechada which is a traditional Colombian dish made of shredded beef, cooked until it becomes tender enough to be pulled apart into thin strands. It is typically served with (or on) arepas, patacones (the green plantains) or rice and beans (which TAV also brings). Carne desmechada is a dish that is eaten across Colombia,  especially common on the Caribbean coastal region mostly mixed with arepas, and in the Andean region often accompanied by rice or yellow potatoes. We decide to bring yellow potatoes (in my goodie bag from Fruta Foods), called Papa Criolla, typical of the Andean region – and they do not need peeling. They are small and round with very thin skin, and quite soft and creamy in their taste. 

During dessert time, we were beyond spoiled. My beautiful American friend and first time-Virtual Nomad AR has prepared Arroz con leche – a very yummy, very traditional Colombian dessert made of rice, sugar, cinnamon, cloves and milk (L proofread note: I love arroz con leche, milk with rice, so much you might hear me yell it out from the rooftops). It is strongly embedded in Colombian culture and TAV explains that for many it is the taste of their childhood. There is even a nursery rhyme in Colombia that refers to it. AR has done a stellar job and Virtual Nomads are thrilled with the result. TAV also served dulce de leche – we really wanted to find the Colombian version that is arequipe but could not find an authentic one so opted for the thicker version of this sweet treat. Dulce de leche (as witnessed in our Argentinian stop) is beloved in Argentina, Uruguay and Chile, whereas arequipe is the Colombian and Venezuelan version. The consistency of arequipe is usually slightly lighter than dulce de leche but that varies. We eat arequipe in the form of obleas, thin crispy wafers with arequipe on top. 

For drinks, we had the adult Colombian section and the youngsters section. TAV’s lovely husband took the bartender role and offered two types of Aguardiente. Aguardiente, consumed in different parts of the Iberoamerican world, comes from ‘agua’ meaning ‘water’ and ‘ardiente’ which means ‘burning’, so… burning water! It is usually high in alcohol, ranging from 29% to 60% depending on the brand, region, production methods, etc. In Colombia, it is distilled from sugarcane with added anis to give flavour. The 32 departments in Colombia each produce their own aguardiente, but in February 2025, the Colombian Constitutional Court declared the departmental aguardiente monopolies unconstitutional, therefore producers from different regions can now make their products available nationwide. TAV and family offered the famous Aguardiente from Antioquia (Andean region where Medellin is situated) as well as Apple Aguardiente from Manzanares (Department of Caldas). The non-alcoholic option is Pupa de Fruta– preparation is entrusted to L and NA. Pupa de fruta is blended fruit that can be used for juice. Our choice (again from Fruta Foods) is made of lulo, a native Colombian fruit with a citrusy flavour. The juice tastes amazing.

The second most biodiverse country in the world 

After Brazil, Colombia is the second most biodiverse country – with the highest bird diversity in the world. 

In ancient times, several people inhabited the lands of now-modern Colombia, including the Quimbaya people, famous for their goldwork and ceramics, the very advanced Muisca and the war waging Muzo people. Then, as in everywhere in Latin America, the Spanish came and conquered the continent. Colombia was first referred to as New Granada as part of the Spanish Empire. The Spanish brought slaves from Africa to work on the land, and a few conquistadors even thought that the musical El Dorado was placed somewhere in the Colombian rainforest. 

In 1819, Colombia gained independence as part of Gran Colombia (consisting of Colombia, Ecuador, Venezuela and Panama) after the Independence movement (1810-1819) led by the legendary Simón Bolívar. In 1831, the Gran Colombia dissolved and Colombia became independent, finally abolishing slavery in 1851. Independence came with a toll in the form of civil wars, including the Thousand Days’ War (1899-1902). In 1948, politician Jorge Eliécer Gaitán was murdered, which pushed Colombia into a very gruesome, politically motivated violent period lasting ten years known as La Violencia. Despite attempts to stop violence, the country spiralled deeper into armed conflict with guerrilla groups (FARC, ELM), drug carters and paramilitaries. In the 1980s, Pablo Escobar’s carter-dominated Medellin was the most violent and dangerous city in the world with unprecedented levels of death and terror. A historic peace treaty was signed with FARC in 2016, but the challenges are far from over. 

FOUR COLOMBIAN BOOKS

As I have mentioned, I am blessed with several Colombian friends scattered around the globe, including TAV,  whether roaming around different parts of mother earth or living in their motherland. I decided to turn to them for book and film recommendations and of course, as Colombians, they are up to the task.  Four wonderful Colombian friends took the task: TAV. my dear old friend and children’s book author storyteller DC (who lives in Canada), my other old gorgeous friend CV who lives in Colombia, does immensely important work around social dialogue and cultural heritage, and SJR who I met years ago and we ended up working together years later. They are all amazing people and therefore I decide to read and watch all that they have recommended. 

One Hundred Years of Solitude

This is one of the most famous – and one the very best books ever written – and constantly in the top 10 of any kind of best of the very best, bestest, better than best lists. I have read it in the past, and I have read it in the original language (ahem) so I will give this space to my daughter L (18) who reads it for the first time. Even if one of L’s native languages is Spanish, the original version could result complicated for her so she has chosen to read the translation. Her review of the book will appear here once she has read it [L note: just finished reading the book for China so will see to this asap!!]. 

My storyteller friend DC who lives in Canada with her beautiful family, recommended that I read something from William Ospina who writes about the conquest of Amazonia, the Americas and Colombia. I choose to read Ursúa, the first book of a trilogy DC mentions. It is a beautifully written book in which every page is almost like poetry. The language is truly masterful with amazingly beautiful descriptions of terrible and cruel things. Again, I have the advantage of being able to read in the original language. The book is about Pedro de Ursúa, a real-life Spanish conquistador from Navarra who sailed to the Americas in the 1500s. Pedro is first a loyal follower of the Spanish order but becomes corrupted by greed for gold and power, and ends up being a ferocious killer. The historic accuracy is astonishing, and it shows that William has done his research. There are so many names and places, and overlapping storylines that I do have to google some of it to understand who is who. It is a compelling read and first instalment in a trilogy that includes El país de la canela (hailed as the best of the trilogy) and La serpiente sin ojos.

Another Colombian friend, SJR, recommends Delirio (Delirium, 2004) by Laura Restrepo that he says his wife loved. Laura Restrepo is a renowned Colombian author and journalist who has been politically active. She was forced into exile in Mexico and Spain due to the death threats she received in the 1980s for her activism. Delirio is probably her most known book and it won her the prestigious Alfaguara de Novela award. Dragging at times, and confusing in places, it is a story narrated by several different people with the voice of the narrator changing to the point that it requires persistence from the reader to understand who is talking. It is a story of a young unstable wife (Agustina) of a penniless university professor and her sudden slip into insanity. Agustina goes missing for four days and her husband is trying to put things together to know what happened to his young wife. Other characters play significant roles in the story, from aunts and brothers to ex partners. Some parts of the story are interesting, especially when it comes to the 1980s Colombia that the book depicts. but other parts were less interesting (Agustina as a character was quite infuriating). It is an interesting, confusing and uneven book that speeds up and becomes quite thrilling towards the end. 

My dear friend CV, who does very important work in Colombia, recommends reading anything from Alfredo Molano, a sociologist who dedicated his life to documenting the stories of displaced people, and victims of the long and grueling internal conflict in Colombia. I decided to read Desterrados (2001), which is his internationally most famous work. Written while in exile in Barcelona, it contains eight real life stories of people affected by the conflict. The stories are first-person narratives in which the narrative itself is given to the people and Alfredo documents them in a form of narrative journalism. It is a remarkable testimony of the absurdity of everyday violence and the effect it has upon people, many of whom have absolutely nothing to do with any of the parties in the conflict. People stuck in between and suffering the consequences of, sometimes completely absurd and sudden, violent outbursts and actions. A remarkable, deeply touching book. 

Laura Quintana is another author recommended by my Colombian friends, so as the last of my four Colombian reads, I decide to read one of her books. Laura is an academic scholar and her literary production is not fiction, rather focused on political philosophy, social sciences and the dimensions of aesthetics. One of her most famous (The Politics of Bodies: Philosophical Emancipation and Beyond Rancière, 2020)  refers to the “politics of the body” which refers to the “political emancipation of the body”. It sounds interesting but I decided to read Rabia. Afectos, violencia, inmunidad (2021) instead. I am not going to lie: I did think that it would be more connected to Colombia but it approaches the theme of anger and resentment more broadly, and that is a slight disappointment for me. She introduces very interesting elements such as the concept of rabia digna; a collective, justified anger that can be turned into a non-destructive political action or movement. She also talks about affective economies – processes in which emotions and affections are circulated as goods, e.g. how [collective] fear, anger or resentment is produced and used as currency in political and social actions. It is a very interesting book and relevant to times we live in, even if it is quite long and repetitive in parts. 

THE COLOMBIAN FILM FESTIVAL

My four wonderful Colombian friends are quick to give recommendations and I decide to be completely guided by them, and see all the movies they say I should see. In the end the Colombian Film Festival includes eleven movies that my friends recommended, one that they did not recommend but I wanted to see anyway (because it has Javier Bardem and Penélope Cruz); and then JK and I also decide to watch the Netflix series based on one of the best books in the universe, 100 years of solitude. 

Let the Colombian Film Festival begin.

In the 1980s and early 1990s, the City of Medellin was the most dangerous city in the world. The murder rate in the city reached an unpresented incomprehensive 385-395 (depending on the source) murders per 100,000 people and violence was the cause of 42% of the deaths in the city with an average of 16 people being murdered every single day. The violence in the city was the result of a combination of things, most significantly the urban warfare of drug cartels. This was the peak time of Pablo Escobar, the most famous drug lord in the world. The movie Rodrigo D. No Futuro (Rodrigo D. No future, 1990) was filmed in Medellin 1986-88 by Víctor Gaviria, with mostly local amateur actors against the background of the daily violence. The sad backstory is that four of the young actors, mostly members of local gangs, died in gang-related violence before the movie’s premier. The movie is dedicated to their memory. 

The movie focuses on Rodrigo D. who has a passion for punk music and dreams to be a punk drummer. He is surrounded by friends who find themselves deep in the violent lifestyle of the city, and slowly the walls around Rodrigo start to draw closer. The violence in the movie is never explicit, but ever-present. It is an incredibly brave and honest film not only describing life in the violent communas (where a sight of a dead body does not affect anyone much, even children) but also the draining nature of a future with no hope. It is also a testimony to the punk scene of the time that offered an outlet to the youth in the area including some of the actors in the film. It is a devastating film to watch, but raw and thoughtful in its portrayal of wasted lives. 

The most famous movie of Víctor Gaviria and one of the most internationally known Colombian movies is La Vendedora de Rosas (the Rose Seller, 1998). This is another tough movie to watch, for similar reasons as his Rodrigo D. No Futuro. Again, Víctor opted to use non-professional actors from Medellin, people with life experience and knowledge of what it is like to grow up surrounded by violence, drug trafficking and poverty. And again, the ever-present violence is the umbrella overshadowing everything; it is astonishingly normal, so much that when two people kill a wrong person, there is no remorse, only a blunt statement of: “well, he was no good anyway.” And again, some of the actors met a violent end on the streets of Medellin. In 2014, out of 15 male actors that participated in the movie, only three were alive. What makes this movie, like Rodrigo D, so remarkable is the rawness and truthfulness of it. It is not meant to be social pornography but almost a documentary dressed up as fiction to tell what life is like when options are few and almost all the energy needs to be dedicated to surviving an urban jungle of violence, betrayal and vice. 

The absurdity of a violent conflict is shown most effectively through the eyes of a child. Los coleres de la montaña (The colours of the mountain, 2010) by Carlos César Arbeláez shows the crude reality of people in a remote part in the countryside living pressed between the paramilitary, the army and the guerrilla. 9-year-old Manuel loves football and drawing, and for his birthday he gets a real football. Once the football falls in a minefield, the conflict becomes very real for Manuel and his friends. The movie grows gradually from idyllic living in a beautiful countryside, to a life without options, affected by senseless violence and desperate people finding themselves in an impossibly narrow place. Most people end up leaving their homes in a hurry and where do they end up? In urban environments of social and economic problems such as the two previous movies by Víctor, Rodrigo D. No Future and the Rose Seller. My friend CV says of this, and Víctor’s movies, that “this country hurts but this reality cannot made invisible.” 

There is something magnetic, haunting and chilling about the movie La Sirga (the English title is The Towrope, 2013) by William Vega – even if not much happens. The movie is shot in an intriguing and unusual location, the Wetland of la Laguna de La Cocha (in Nariño, close to the border with Ecuador) surrounded in winter by an everlasting mist and constant rain. In the movie a young woman called Alicia arrives at the remote location of her estranged uncle’s house after her family is burned alive (due to the armed conflict). The violence is never explicit or shown, but somehow the atmosphere is filled with unspoken quiet fear and the armed conflict is gearing nearer very subtlety. It is a quiet movie of vulnerable people and the stalking shadow of armed conflict. Everything is understated and subtle, even the most devastating details. Alicia starts to heal but the threat returns when her cousin Freddy returns after years of absence. The actress, Joghis Seudin Arias, does an outstanding job in the role of the deeply traumatised, sleepwalking Alicia. In real life, she lost her father and grandfather to the guerrilla and that brings an unusual depth and rawness to her performance. Some reviewers have called the movie boring but I found it mesmerising. Of all the amazing films that I have seen for this stop, this is my top one. 

Pájaros de Verano (Birds of Passage, 2018) was a huge winner in the 2019 Macondo Awards (The Colombian Academy of Cinematographic Arts and Sciences). Filmed in the very cinematographic Guajira Peninsula, it is a Colombian drug mafia movie of easy money, reckless young men, corrupt police and senseless violence. But it is also a movie about the Indigenous clans in Guajira during the peak era of the Colombian marijuana trade (called the Bonanza Marimbera 1975-1985 – in 1975 approximately 75% of all farmers in Guajira substituted their crops with marijuana plants) when drug money was pouring in and old traditions were mixed with ‘Western values’. Greed is a universal human characteristic, and no community is saved from it, often leading to tragedy. The movie by Cristina Gallego and Ciro Guerra (who were married and divorced during the filming of this film) is filmed in the languages of Wayuú (part of the Arawak language family), Spanish and Wiwa (and a little bit of English). The film shows a gorgeous landscape, but also uneven rhythm and several plot holes. It is enjoyable for the fact that Indigenous clans are not portrayed as victims, but not as saints either. The western ways are clearly seeding destruction but the ancient ways in which women were treated as property and prisoners of tradition are also shown as flawed. Both JK and I enjoyed watching it and were quite mesmerised by the impactful landscape.  

Maria, llena eres de Gracia (Maria, full of grace, 2004) belongs to its main actress, Catalina Sandino Moreno. She is mesmerising and nuanced in the role of Maria to the point that it does not feel like acting. In the movie, she becomes a human drug mule and gives such dignity to the simple country town girl in a desperate situation. It is painfully shown how she must swallow 60 pellets made of cut plastic gloves full of cocaine. It is an impactful movie that almost feels like a documentary at times. First-time director Joshua Marston was inspired by a real-life former drug mule in his neighbourhood of Brooklyn who told him what it was like to swallow tens of small heroin pellets. And yes, Catalina’s performance cannot be praised enough. She manages to make Maria a real person; someone not particularly brave or extraordinary; a young country girl with limited options in life choosing a dangerous path to survive. Hers is one story among many mules, and it becomes painfully clear in the movie. 

Paraiso Travel (2008) is a movie about a current theme, illegal immigration – even if the premise of the movie is a bit silly, and there are much better movies about the topic. A young middle class Colombian man is obsessed with a girl called Reina (“queen”) who in turn is obsessed with moving to the United States – but not through an official way, insread bytaking a plane to Guatemala and continuing from there towards the US border. Marlon (the obsessed man) drains all common sense down the sink and follows her through a dangerous road to misery. He meets good and bad people on the road. It is not the first story in the history of cinema in which a young man is obsessed with a manipulative and deceiving Sexy Girl. He basically throws his life away for a promise that once they reach New York, she will finally have sex with him. The director, Simón Brand, had directed mainly music videos, which showed the overall quality of the film. There are references to the hardship immigrants go through when they take a perilous journey towards north but besides that it is a fairly shallow and cliché movie that does not really reach what it intends to do. The main actor (the sex-craving young man) is quite wooden in his role and not charismatic enough to carry a movie. The scenes in Guatemala and Mexico, albeit short, are the most impactful as they do give a glimpse of the cruel and devastating world of desperate people trying to find a better tomorrow.  

La Virgen de los Sicarios (Our Lady of the Assassins, 2000) by Barbet Schroeder is another movie about the spiral of drug wars and violence in Medellin in the 1990s. It is based on the controversial biographical novel of Fernando Vallejo who returns to his hometown Medellin after thirty years of absence and gets involved in the world of teenage assassins, sicarios. Pablo Escobar has just died and the city is a war zone. The drug cartels are or have been contracting teenage killers from the communas who now are not only aggressive and trigger-sensitive but also without work. There is much to unpack in this movie including Fernando’s (who is in his 50s) involvement with teenage boys, the senseless daily violence (“that was the second of the day” says the pharmacists about a dead body to Fernando when he goes to buy ear plugs in the morning), the impact of religion in the lives of killers and drug lords (teenage killers go to pray to virgin Mary to bless their business of murdering), and the urban warfare. In one scene the characters go to the hills around Medellin and there is a sign : prohibited to throw dead bodies. It is a strange movie – very impactful in its depiction of the absolute senseless violence and the forensics of the transformation of Medellin from a textile industry city to a blood filled playground of young boys with guns. It is also disturbing in the portraying of the middle aged Fernando and his pseudointellectual lecturing to his humilde teenage lovers who are basically obliged to listen to his babbling. 

It is probably fair to say that Los Viajes del Viento (The Wind Journey, 2009) is a road movie about music. Directed by  Ciro Guerra, the other director of Pájaros de Verano (Birds of Passage, 2018) from whom I end up watching three movies for this Colombian Film Festival. This one is a slow-spaced, quite still movie about an old expert accordion player who, after his wife’s death, stops playing. He starts a long and slow journey to return the instrument to the master who gave it to him. He is accompanied by a young apprentice who wants to learn the secrets of accordion playing. The movie floats or drifts like a wind – the landscape is majestic (different locations in Northern Colombia), the plot is ’floating’ (not much happens and things just ‘float’), and music plays an important role. There are several still moments, long takes of landscapes, or groups of people or just people looking at the camera/to the distance for a long time – which makes it sometimes feel like a David Lynch movie. It is worth watching for the landscape and music.

El abrazo de serpiente (Embrace of the Serpent, 2015), again by Ciro Guerra, is an unusual and impactful movie. Filmed almost entirely in black and white, it is an astonishing tribute to the Amazon and its ecology. The main character is Karamakate, the last surviving member of his tribe, portrayed both as a young and old man through his relationship with two foreigners, forty years apart. It really is quite a captivating, remarkable movie that spans so many different themes; environment, memory, colonialism and Christianity. It is dream-like, poetic, haunting and a true homage to the majestic Amazon forest and the people that inhabit it. It is worthy of all the praise that has come its way. Even if La Sirga remains as my favourite of the Colombian Film Festival, this one is a close second.

La Tierra y la Sombra (Land and Shade, 2015) is another very still, quiet movie of minimal dialogue, long pauses, and a fascinating landscapes – situated in the Cauca Valley, close to the Andes, also the place of origin of the director César Augusto Acevedo. It won the Caméra d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival. It tells about destruction and the disappearance of traditional livelihoods. An old man, Alfonso, returns to his old house where his ex-wife lives with their son and the son’s family. The son is dying of the chemicals that surrounding sugarcane plantations release into the air. It is about remorse, loss and a struggling rural community. It is a movie of long silent shots, weather-beaten faces of former farmers working for the plantations (one of the most terrible jobs there is). It is beautiful and effective, but inevitably feels long. The director has said that the slow pace is deliberate as it is to reflect the atmosphere better. And it does feel slow, even if some of the photography is outstanding, almost like photos. 

I decide to watch Loving Pablo (Fernando León de Aranoa, 2017) because of its leading actors, the amazing Penélope Cruz and Javier Bardem. It has not been recommended by any of my Colombian friends, and it really is not a very good movie. But both Penélope and Javier are extraordinary – especially Penélope who seems to get better and better with age. My theory is that because of her unreal beauty, she has not been able to show her talent in good roles until later in life, and again in this one she is outstanding. The movie of course is about Pablo Escobar, based on the memoir of journalist Victoria Vallejo called Loving Pablo, Hating Escobar describing her five-year affair with him. It describes the rise and fall of the King of Cocaine, the world’s most famous drug lord and is weirdly filmed in English with occasional Spanish. The decision to make all the characters speak in broken English is very strange.  In conclusion, a mediocre movie with first class acting – especially in a scene in which Victoria (Penélope) faces sicarios who are after her.

JK and I finish the Colombian Movie Festival with the first eight episodes (the other eight episodes still in production in 2025) of the One Hundred Years of Solitude, produced by Netflix. When Gabriel García Márquez was alive, he did not grant film rights to the book. Therefore the family demanded that the series was to be filmed in Colombia, with a Colombian cast and in Spanish. The result is nothing short of magical, and quite loyal to the spirit of Gaby’s Opus Magna. It is such a complex and multinuanced book that some compromises have been made, but that does not matter as the result is quite mesmerising, visually and aesthetically impressive.  

There is more than Shakira

Shakira is without doubt the most famous musician coming out of Colombia. Her break to the international market is nothing short of impressive and her transformation into a global stardom is quite unique. When TAV and I built the playlist for the Colombian afternoon, her request was “not just Shakira”. Without taking any merit out of Shakira’s success (if you watch her superbowl performance, it is quite easy to understand why she is as successful as she is from her cultural hybridity dancing to being a multi-instrumentalist), it is important to underline that there are many, many other musicians in Colombia. Colombia has a very rich musical tradition and has produced quite a few big stars, including Karol G, Maluma and Juanes. 

Next stop: Comoros

Thank you wonderful L for your proofreading!

This will be a massive entry for a massive country. It is a long entry, for a country with a long history. And a complex entry, for a complex nation. China – already just as a single word spoken or written it says so much and everyone has an opinion. I have several friends with Chinese backgrounds, and my daughter L (18) successfully studied Mandarin at school for a couple of years, winning a few awards. Through her, I have learned to appreciate the musicality and nuances of Mandarin. A few years ago she participated in a contest in Mandarin and I sat through a five-hour contest immersed in a fascinating language that I did not understand one word of (L proofreading note: I sang a song named Mo Li Hua on a ukulele and won a thermos I still use today, xie xie Wu Lao Shi!)

For this entry, I have sought the help of close friends with Chinese backgrounds who have helped me navigate a rich and complex landscape of food, literature and film (and a bit of history). What a fascinating stop it has been. 

One important note: this stop will not cover Hong Kong. The reason for this is that the Hong Kong movie and literature production is so significant that Hong Kong will be appreciated  as its own entry under Bonus H: Hong Kong – which naturally will come much later in the Virtual Nomad ‘series’. 

But first, as always. Food. 

Four culinary experiences 

When I talk with CH, the Special Advisor to Virtual Nomad (who has been to over 140 countries and counting), she recommends dividing the culinary map of China into four different parts in order to appreciate the variety of the Chinese kitchen. CH advises that we do separate stops for the Tibet, Xinjiang, Sichuan, and Cantonese cuisines. This will also allow us to enjoy small pockets of time with different people as a break from our wonderful big Virtual Nomad nights. 

Food stop one: a Tibetan dinner

Before CH returns to travelling and will be away some months, a day or two before the end of 2024, we travel to Dee Why in Northern Sydney to farewell her and share a Tibetan dinner. Dee Why has the highest concentration of Tibetan people in Australia so it is quite natural to find Tibetan restaurants in the area. Apart from CH and myself, joining us are my partner JK and my children L (then 17) and A (11), and L’s boyfriend NA (18). We are joined by the mother of one of CH’s friends, a lovely Philippine woman living in Germany. The Tibetan Peace Restaurant is situated at the heart of Dee Why, a hidden gem that is easy to miss. The outside of the restaurant is quite modest and the interiors reflect Tibetan heritage with flags, artefacts and of course a picture of the Tibetan spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama. 

Tibet is the highest region in the world and half of the mighty Mount Everest is found in Tibet, with the other half in Nepal. It has existed as a distinctive region since the emerging of the Tibetan Empire in the 7^th century that grew to its peak in the 9^th century. However, in ‘Tibet’ and China, the land is not called Tibet (as in all Western languages) but either by the local names Bod (referring to the lands around the capital Lhasa, the ‘Greater Tibet’) or Ü-Tsang (referring to central Tibet). There are several words in Chinese that refer to regions, including Tubo (referring to the Tibet Empire), but the Chinese government prefers the name Xizang that is the name of the Tibet Autonomous Region. The English name Tibet comes from Latin Tibetum, but there are much older names that were in use to refer to the region, including Tebet in the 13^th century. 

The history of Tibet is long and complex. The glorious Buddhist Empire was born in the 7^th century and raised to its full power in the 9^th century. Dzungar Mongols invaded Tibet in 1240. They were expelled in 1720 by the Qing Dynasty. The Qing Dynasty annexed Tibet to its empire but Tibet could retain a large portion of its own governance (when the Dge-lugs-pa, also known as the Yellow Hat Sect gained power) with the Dalai Lama holding the spiritual leadership. Eventually the influence of the Qing Dynasty grew larger. In 1913, the Dalai Lama declared Tibet independent without the recognition of the outside world. Following the 1948 Cultural Revolution in China, Tibet was invaded in 1950 and established as an Autonomous Region in 1965. In the 1950s, a large number of Tibetans fled into exile, including the 14^th Dalai Lama. He currently lives in India and the population in Tibet is not allowed to refer to him as their spiritual leader. Many Tibetan Buddhist temples were destroyed during the Cultural Revolution and thousands of Tibetans are believed to have been killed during and after that time.  

But now to the food itself. We ordered several authentic and traditional Tibetan/Bod foods. An essential feature of the Tibetan dinner was of course the national food, Momos – which are filled dumplings. We ordered both beef (bottom on the left) and spinach and cheese (on the right). Momos are believed to have originated in Tibet and then spread into neighbouring countries including Nepal, Bhutan and India, but they are also quite common in the Bangladeshi kitchen. This said, traditional Tibetan momos are quite different from the ones in Nepal, with a thicker dough and almost no spices. The etymology of the word ‘momo’ seems to refer to ‘mo’ which means flour or steamed buns. The momos that we ate were lovely when eaten hot, but although they were filling, they did not end up having a very elaborate taste. 

Tibetan cuisine is adjusted to the demanding climate of high plateaus and mountains which means that animal protein, especially goat, yak and beef (when available), is typical and there are less fresh vegetables and herbs. Therefore the cuisine is rich in meat, grains and dairy. We ordered a funnily named Call Beef Salad (on the left) as it carried no salad. Apparently the spicy beef salad is a very popular dish in Tibet, served cold. The secret of a successful call beef salad is cooling the meat so that it can be sliced better. The other dish, well received Shapta (stir-fry) or pork and vegetables is another typical dish of the Tibetan diet. Shapta can also be made with chicken, beef, mutton or buff. 

As a vegetarian, I was very grateful for the Thenthuk, Tibetan homemade noodles in broth. Meat and dairy are typical especially of the Amdo region in Northeastern Tibet. Traditionally Thenthuk has mutton or yak meat, but we order ours without meat which is a modern version. The traditional noodle soup is heavier as its purpose was to keep people warm during winter months. 

We accompany the food with tigmo, Tibetan bread (top) and chicken curry (on the right). The bread is not overly tasty but it is a good accompaniment to the more juicy dishes.  

Food stop 2: a rainy night with food from Xinjiang 

Xinjiang is the largest of Chinese provinces, located in northwestern China, on the Silk Road. It is an autonomous region of China, with a high mountain range. Xinjiang came under the Qing Dynasty in the 1700s, and, since 1949, is part of the People’s Republic of China. In 1955, the status of Xinjiang was changed from province to autonomous region. Abundant with mineral sources and home to 25 million people, who mostly speak Uyghur as their first language, Xinjiang also has a distinctive cuisine. It is estimated that around half (12 million) of the province’s population is Uyghur. The Human Rights situation in Xingjiang is not great – the Chinese government has being accused of genocide against the Uyghurs and other Muslim-ethnicities in China with recent documentation of more than a million people being held in ‘re-education camps’ or jails, and there are reports of mass sterilisations that are resulting in population decrease of the Muslim minority. 

But now to food. 

On a rainy summer night in January, we head to the Xinjiang Handmade Noodle Restaurant in Chatswood, northern Sydney. The restaurant is said to serve authentic Chinese noodles, soups and dim sum in the Xinjiang style. We take along my fantastic neighbours of many years, LG and PH for their first Virtual Nomad experience.

CH has recommended this restaurant and it is easy to understand why. The location and decoration is quite humble – the restaurant is on the second floor with steep stairs so it is quite easy to miss if you do not know what you are looking for. As we are there on a very rainy and stormy night, the restaurant is quite empty, but the quality of food is outstanding. The noodles are handmade and lack the artificial taste of fast(er) food. We get wontons in spicy and sour sauce – the Xinjiang wontons are often made by hand-pulling wheat dough into strands that are long and thin. The flour used is usually bread flour which is stronger and sturdier than ordinary wheat flour. We have wontons in the spicy and sour sauce, and also vegetarian wontons that are very yummy and filling. 

Noodles have a long history in Xinjiang and other parts of China. For example in 2005, in the Lajia archaeological site, a sealed bowl was found containing almost perfectly preserved yellow noodles from 4000 years ago. The noodle dishes we order are Fried noodles with chicken and flavour noodles. All the food we order tastes like it is MSG free (or at least reduced). 

While all the food is delicious, being homemade, the real star of the dinner is the Braised Eggplants with garlic and chilli (on the right). It is absolutely stellar: juicy and delicious. Braised tofu with Special Sauce (on the left) is also very good. 
Tradition and culture are important in Xinjiang, particularly  for the Uyghur population. In 2017, an acclaimed Uyghur ethnographer Rahile Dawut (founder of the Uyghur folklore Institute of the University of Xinjiang) disappeared. In 2023, it was discovered that she was in the hands of Chinese authorities. She was sentenced to life in prison for “endangering state security” for her work in preserving and defending Uyghur cultural identity and heritage.

Food stop 3: Sichuan hotpot in Chinatown 

Sichuan is a province in Southwestern China bordering Tibet and home to the longest river in Asia, the Yangtze. The provincial capital of Sichuan is Chengdu and the majority of China’s giant panda population can be found in Sichuan (and also in the provinces of Shaanxi and Gansu).  The Sichuan cuisine is famous for spiciness and use of both chili peppers and the Sichuan peppercorn. For Sichuan hot pot, we decide to head to Chinatown in Sydney CBD and opt for Jiu Long Ding Chongqing Hot Pot. Excellent choice – the restaurant is packed and the air is full of spicy flavour that hits you in the face when you walk in. The service is friendly and helpful, and every single table is full (L proofreading note: It was also very close to Lunar New Year when we visited, so that may account for the sheer number of tables joyfully celebrating around us!). We are seated at a round table with a hot pot stove in the middle, and we feel that the number of people in our party is the maximum to fully enjoy the experience. 

Now to the food. This one was a huge hit among the participating twelve Virtual Nomads. It was a great night with excellent food, wonderful experience and lively company. Another highlight on the Virtual Nomad path. 

Sichuan Hotpot is a communal meal originating from the early 1800s in Sichuan near the Yangtze River. As fishermen, port workers and other working-class people could not afford regular meat and needed something to keep them warm during cold winter months, they used spicy broth to cook meat and vegetables. In order to share resources, the meal evolved into a communal dish reuniting people around the table. The method is to have a spicy broth and poach raw ingredients into the broth. These ingredients usually include different types of meat, vegetables, noodles, Sichuan peppercorns and sometimes seafood. Over time, the dish evolved from more basic ingredients to richer taste selection. Luckily in our Virtual Nomad group today we not only have four newbies (a wonderful family that already helped me with the Austria entry but also the father RA is familiar with the Sichuan kitchen) but we also have my awesome friend L* who ends up being the one to know and organise all, and we leave it in her very capable hands. L* suggested that we order two types of broth – one spicy meat-based broth and one mild mushroom broth. A great suggestion that ended up serving the whole group. The photo tells clearly which one is which ☺. 

While the hot pot includes all these different ingredients, the food is usually eaten with a dipping sauce. We all get up and line up to create our individual dips. The options include anything from very spicy ones (different types of chilli) to milder ones. Usually the sauces are made of sesame oil and garlic. Most of us follow L*’s advice and use sesame sauce as our base. In the photo is my option – sesame sauce, garlic, coriander and a tiny bit of chilli. Amazing!

Hot Pot is said to be very good for body circulation, and it is a wonderful shared experience. Our ingredients included meat, vegetables, tofu, mushrooms, noodles, fungi and lotus root. Twelve around the round table seems to be the recommended maximum as more people would have made the experience more stressful. The recommended size would probably be smaller which would then allow more time for conversation. Nevertheless, this was one of the Virtual Nomad highlights for many of the participants and especially my daughter L (then 17) and her boyfriend NA (18) enjoyed it so much that they returned the following week with my friend L*’s daughter S* (who was also present during our dinner) and a friend. 

Food stop 4: Cantonese yum cha

Our last food stop for China is the Cantonese kitchen. The Chinese food stop would not have been complete without one of its most famous parts, the Cantonese Yum Cha. Yum Cha is usually a type of meal that needs no introduction. My beautiful friend L* knows a good Yum Cha place in Chatswood (North Sydney), Dim Joy House. It is situated on top of an RSL club (meaning Returned and Services League of Australia – that you need to sign in for with your ID) so slightly inconvenient but still a great find. We find rude and unfriendly serving staff but good food. It is a lovely experience, but probably our least favourite of the four Chinese food stops. It still is really good value for anyone in the area and an average of $40AUD for our party of seven. The restaurant was packed to capacity for lunch which showed that people were there for food and not for service. 

Yum cha means “drink tea” in Cantonese. The traditional Yum Cha basically means drinking Chinese tea, and eating small dishes (dim sum). It is an essential part of Cantonese cuisine and usually a shared experience. The most common dim sum are probably different dumplings (pork, prawn, etc) and steamed barbecue pork buns. The tea is the centrepiece of Yum Cha, and it is usually jasmine (as it was in our case) or green tea. The tea cups are also typically small, and the teapot is refilled constantly. The Cantonese regions in China are mainly the Provinces of Guangdong and Guangxi, but also Hong Kong and Macau. 

We went for everything, from delicious tea to lightly battered eggplant, noodles, several vegetarian dishes, dumplings and meat dishes.  

And that concludes our delicious and long food stop in China!

From Thirteen Dynasties to Cultural Revolution, Tiananmen Protest and modernity 

China is the second most populated country in the world (behind India) with a long history. The early history of China is a tale of thirteen dynasties, starting from pre-imperial China and the rise of the debated Xia Dynasty – which could just be a tale or a legend. There are no early accounts or physical evidence of the Xia Dynasty that has been said to have existed during the Erlitou period. The first confirmed dynasty is the Shang Dynasty (1600 – 1046 BCE) who were skilled in using bronze, and their belief system was based on the deity Shang Di. They were also very cruel which resulted in some of their slaves and soldiers to join the enemy camp. Then followed the Zhou Dynasty, ruling for almost 800 years (1046 to 256 BCE) and divided into two periods. Their rule established the feudal system but also introduced some of the most philosophical foundations such as Confucius, Daoism and Legalism, along with the writing system.

The Zhou Dynasty was followed by the Qin Dynasty that was victorious after the Warring States period (576 – 221 BCE). The Qin Dynasty was short-lived (221 – 206 BCE) but still a highly influential rule; planning a wall against enemies, and regarded as a period of suppression of the freedom of speech, burning books and persecution of scholars and philosophers. So, the megalomaniac emperor built a wall, burned books, went after ideals of social harmony, and against the idea that you should lead by example and virtue rather than force. Sounds familiar, eh? The emperor was so afraid of death that when he finally died, he had thousands of terracotta soldiers guard his tomb. 

Then it was the turn of the Han Dynasty (206 BCE – 220 AD), the golden age of prosperity and peace, and the Silk Road, literature and poetry, Confuciusm, people selected for roles based on merit and the invention of paper. But power corrupts, and then more people wanted power, so the country was split in three parts during the Three Kingdoms Period (220-265) when around 40 million people died, and the fighting and destruction continued until the country was united under the Sui Dynasty (581-618), followed by the famous Tang Dynasty (618 -906), the cultural Golden Age of Chinese culture and that saw the only female emperor in the country’s history, Wu Zetian. Another time of chaos followed during the Ten Kingdoms period (907-960) that was followed by the Song Dynasty (960-1279) of many inventions (gun power, paper money, printing, the compass..). They fell against the Mongols who established the Yuan Dynasty (1279-1368) with the new capital Xanadu. That was followed by the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) that returned the Chinese rule that finished the Great Wall of China and the Forbidden City. They were followed by the last Dynasty, the Qing, mainly composed of Manchus (from Manchuria). It was the 5^th largest empire in world history, the last emperor of China being a 6-year-old Puyi who after the Xinhai Rebellion in 1911, abdicated in 1912.

The Republic of China was formed in 1912 but times were unstable and the Chinese Civil War 1927-37 was a devastating ideological conflict. The Japanese invaded China in 1937 but were defeated in the Second Sino-Japanese War (1937-45) – the Japanese invasion caused around twenty million deaths and several atrocities were committed, one of the most famous being the Rape/Massacre of Nanking. After defeating the Japanese, the Chinese went back to fighting each other in the second part of the Civil War, and in 1949 the Communists gained the control of China while the other party, the Nationalists retreated to Taiwan. Mao Zedong declared the country as the People’s Republic of China in 1949. His flagship project, the intended industrialisation the Great Leap Forward, resulted in 30-50 million deaths. His other disastrous project was the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976) persecution and suppression of human rights disguised in feverous nationalism and repression. After his death, economic and social reforms were launched by the new leader Deng Xiaoping and his buddies, and policies such as China’s one-child policy (1979-2015) were established. Ai WeiWei whose biography (see below in the ‘books section’) I read for this stop, says in his book:” By the early 1980s, young people in China who had been sent to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution had returned to the cities, and with rising unemployment, the social fabric was under a lot of strain. Deng Xiaoping, China’s new paramount leader; downplayed the rights of the individual, defining humanitarianism as “protection of the majority of people’s security.” The government launched a crackdown on crime that meted out swift and severe punishments, and between 1983 and 1987 no fewer than 1.7 million people received criminal sentences.” These punishments did not correlate with the severeness of the crime with people getting sentences for example for sexual promiscuity. 

The 1989 Tiananmen Square student protest was brutally suppressed. While there is no official death toll, it is estimated to be several thousands. After 1989, the economy grew to be the second biggest in the world but also corruption, unemployment and financial inequality increased. The current Chinese government has been accused of human rights abuses, including the persecution of religious and ethnic minorities.

Six books from China

Everything in China is massive. The landmass is massive, the population is second only to India, cultural traditions are numerous, and the large and dense literary scene follows these trends. How does one choose, among all the books available, the very right ones? I have seen quite a lot of Chinese cinema in my life, but I have read less, with my experience being more classic Chinese literature. Therefore, I am so ready for the feast of Chinese literature, and again I am guided by advice from friends. From the massive list of recommendations, I choose those that have been mentioned most. And as I read six books from a massive Canada, I will read six books from a massive China (with the exclusion of Hong Kong that will have its separate entry later in the Virtual Nomad series). 

Let’s start with the popular choice. 

I cannot wait to get my hands into The Three-Body Problem (2006), a massive success by a celebrated Chinese Science Fiction author Cixin Liu, also adapted into a tv series by Netflix (that I could not care to watch after the first 30 minutes). Just on GoodReads the book has over 100,000 reviews and most of them are glowing. I am not the only one who wants to read it; my daughter L (18) also does (and it is her book) but so does one of my closest friends and a fellow Virtual Nomad KD who has a PhD in Physics (she also has an important professional role in the field). Therefore, our experiment is that we all read and review it with our varied degrees of understanding of the science in it. We start with the one who understands it least and that is me. 

My review: I very much did not love it. I found it Boring with a capital B, and with a ridiculous plot, paper thin characters and I could not wait for the book to finish. It took me a long time to finish its 434 pages because it does not deliver for me and I felt disengaged almost the entire time. It is a book for me that starts super interesting (during the times of Chinese Cultural Revolution) and then stumbles into a ridiculous mess. It could be that the translation was bad, but I cannot fully blame the poor translator for the absolutely ridiculous dialogues, insufficiently drafted characters and poor storytelling. The science is impressive and partly interesting but even then, it just does not fly. The most interesting part: the personal story of the author that comes after the actual book. I give it two stars out of five. 

L’s review: Okay. So, my favourite book probably ever is a hard but digestible sci-fi: Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir. I also love writing science fiction in my free time, as I find it a sub-genre of fantasy that is simply, just explained better. The setting and plot of Cixin Liu’s novel is exactly this: a fantasy involving aliens, reality, unsolvable theoretical problems and the importance of discovery to protect humanity – explained and justified with vibrant and relevant physics. I have a close friend who liked this book for exactly that: brilliant worldbuilding. However, my issue, namely, is the characterisation; as much as the plot points landed, somewhat haphazardly especially in the middle as timelines jumped around, I could not believe any of the characters. Some have families mentioned once, witness/cause deaths of people around them, face deep betrayals and historically groundbreaking moments, but seem to feel nothing, and experience no substantial, believable consequence. 

Three out of five stars! It took effort to pick the book up when I care so much about characters, but for people who do not need to connect as much to fictional people, I would recommend picking up this first novel for the interesting plot point progressions. I have heard the second book is better, so I may read that one when I get a chance!

KD review: I was a bit hesitant at first when my friend asked me to read the three body problem book because I had just watched the whole tv series. I enjoyed the series and thought that I would not be able to enjoy the book as much as I knew the storyline. But boy, was I wrong! As I started reading, I decided to try to forget the series and rediscover the characters and events. Although it’s obviously impossible to avoid knowing the main plot I did find the book way more authentic and thought provoking than the series. It is brilliant in connecting science and philosophical ideas without giving obvious answers. Unlike the tv series the book does not provide easy character explanations but leaves this open for the reader, which I found an interesting approach. It was also refreshing to read sci-fi from a different cultural background – it adds a dimension of surprise which is enjoyable. I highly recommend it – although I suspect for a non-scientist the physics content may feel jarring. I am now reading the 2nd book on the series and can’t wait to see how it unfolds. 

“Mr T said I was a “problem child” that I spoke when I shouldn’t and was silent when I should speak”.  My next book is A private life (1996) by Ran Chen. Very different from the science fiction hit. It has been marketed as a ‘sexual awakening of a young woman’, but I read it more as a young woman growing up in the shadow of a verbally and emotionally abusive father, sexually groomed and abused by adults before and after the age of consent and falling deeply into a crevasse of loneliness and mental illness. This said, I thought it was an interesting book and describes changes that China was going through in the 70s and 80s, and into the 90s – even touching upon the events of the Tiananmen Square. The narrator describes the change of the educational system to grade-based competition and how that broke down the collective spirit and brought to the school scene cold competitive individualism. There is of course a lot of stuff about the “sexual awakening” but much of it is quite disturbing. The first sexual encounter(s) are clearly rapes which seems not be understood in the text as such. Towards the half-way point, the book slightly changes its tide as the young woman’s perception of reality and her deepening mental state worsens. When I find out more about Chen, I learn that when published, this book caused a stir in China as she admitted writing from experience. In the end, it is a heartbreaking tale on lonelin loneliness, disconnection and alienation with outstanding writing. 

I saw the movie Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress (2002) years ago and loved it but I had not read the book it is based on so that is my next Chinese book. The book was originally published in French in 2000 and subsequently translated into English in 2001 becoming an instant international hit. The author, Dai Sijie, is son of two professors of Medical Science and was sent to be ‘re-educated’ to the countryside in 1971-74, and then moved permanently to France in 1984. This book is loosely based on his experience. 

It is a lovely little book. It does impress me less than the movie did all those years ago (and I am now set to rewatch it) but it is still quaint. It might not fully reach the ambitious goal that it sets to itself – to underline the importance of art, culture and literature in times of repression – but it surely tries. In the story, two young men sent to be re-educated in a remote mountain village come in contact with the most beautiful girl in the mountains (why is that always the main attribute of the object of desire!), a smart but ‘uneducated’ Little Seamstress. She is the object of their affection and catalyst to the desire to read foreign, prohibited literature. 

Ai Weiwei is one of the most famous contemporary artists and a vocal critic of the Chinese government. Ai Weiwei is an outspoken human rights activist and a defender of the freedoms of speech and artistic expression. His father was Ai Qing who was an important poet in China, a personal friend of Mao in the early days and then condemned as a ‘rightist’ and sent to hard labour in northwest China (Heilongjiang and Xinjiang) where Weiwei himself grew up. 1000 Years of Joys and Sorrows (2021) is the autobiography of Weiwei but also a story of his father’s life and the story of the recent history of China. He covers his father’s life story (but his mother does not receive the same treatment, and his mother is left a bit anecdotal in the story, as are other women in his life, including a wife and his son’s mother), his growing up in very harsh conditions, ten years in the US, return to China and his arrest. It is hard not to be self-serving when it comes to autobiographies and Weiwei has been accused of using his art for self-benefitting purposes. He is not the most exciting writer and while it would be great to give 4 stars for the subject matter, it is 3 stars for the book itself. When Weiwei writes about his father, it is quite interesting and then when he writes about his own life, it is not colourful or intriguing, it is just a description of facts, sort of “ this happened, and then this”. People in his life do not get much space (like his mother, his partners etc) and some of the art projects are quite bizarre, such as taking 1001 Chinese to Germany, not sure what the meaning or learning of all that was. But what is important and interesting is his description of the government repression and his fight for civil rights in China. I am not sure if I warmed up to him as a person but I salute his human rights work. 

Two Chinese authors have won the Nobel Prize for Literature, Gao Xingjian in 2000 and Mo Yan in 2012. Mo Yan won his prize for his “hallucinatory realism which merges folk tales, history and the contemporary.” Red Sorghum (1986) is considered his most important work, and the main reason for the Nobel Prize. Now, this is not a feel-good book, and it is definitely not an enjoyable book. Described as a book that spans three generations, it focuses mainly on the grandparents and father of the narrator, living in the Chinese countryside during the Japanese invasion (1937-1945) coinciding with the Chinese Civil War (1927-1950). The life in the village already before the Japanese is a dog-eat-dog world where violent deaths are the norm and women (with bounded feet) are open prey, which magnifies and intensifies when the Japanese arrive. Pages and pages of grotesque, graphic horror and violence. Hundreds of former house dogs feasting on massacred villagers too many to be buried. Mutilations, executions, gang rapes, kidnappings, murder, extortion, child death, you name it. Characters have mostly no other depth other than existing in their animal instincts. Betrayal is common and loyalty is fable. Even love is described to have three stages – fanaticism, cruelty and frigidity. Only a deeply scarred and traumatised person would write a book like this, which Yan probably is. There is an excellent movie based on the first two parts of the book directed by Zhang Yimou which I have seen quite a few years ago. [proofreading note from L: Interestingly, Mo Yan is the author’s pen name! It translates to ‘don’t speak’, and his given name is Guan Moye in English phonetics. I can also confirm a sad and troubled past in the author’s own words, as being hated by both his entire village and own family, on the Nobel Prize in Literature website.]

My last book of the very long China stop is Wild Swans by Jung Chang (1991). A very famous book of three generations of women (grandmother, mother and daughter) within the backdrop of Chinese 20th century history. It is a widely popular book selling over 13 million copies with translations into more than 40 languages. It is a very dense book and it takes me a long time to read it. Many people around me who have read it are enthusiastic and rave about it, and with good reason. It is an incredibly detailed account of the life of three women,  their family of privilege and their fall from grace due to political persecution. It is a story of the social and political chaos of Chinese society during the transition between feudal dynasty-China and repression in the Communist China, and everything in between. “For many people joining the communist party was like taking an insurance policy”, Jung says in one part, an insurance policy indeed in a dog-eat-dog system in which ignorance is praised and cruelty is crucial. It is a monumental book which is an important read, especially in the times that we are living in, in which totalitarianism seems to be on the rise. But it also could have been a great opportunity for accountability and remorse, which is lacking in the book. Jung presents herself and her people as morally superior to everyone, and it is hard to believe that a family with such privilege and connections would have never crossed the line of moral ambiguity and self-interest. Nevertheless, it is an impressive, detailed and dense read.   

The Chinese Film Festival 

China has a massive movie industry so choosing a list of ten films to watch is quite a feat even with the exclusion of Hong Kong. It is true, In the Mood for Love is one of the best films ever made but this Chinese Film Festival will focus on mainland China, and Hong Kong is saved for a later entry in the Virtual Nomad series (Bonus H: Hong Kong) as is Taiwan (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). 

Part from these two movies that seem to be on every list, everyone with some knowledge on Chinese cinema, has a different favourite movie. I have seen some of the movies that are frequently mentioned but the films chosen for this stop are those that are most cherished, primarily by friends and secondly by film critics / movie goers / film lovers. I have tried to keep the list manageable but due to the massive amount of movie production and the Chinese cinema being so fascinating and ever-changing, in the end the list ends up with twenty (!) movies (but there could have been so many others). As the Chinese movie industry can be divided into different categories, this Chinese Film Festival focuses on movies from the 90s to more recent. Therefore the Virtual Nomad Mainland China Movie Festival is divided into: 1. Fifth Generation directors (circa 1990s), 2. Sixth Generation directors (circa 2000s), 3. the 2010s and 4. Others. 

Let the Chinese Film Festival begin.  

1. Fifth Generation movies

Some of the most famous Mainland China movies are in this category. One of the first films to have launched the start of the so called fifth generation movies was the 1984 movie Yellow Earth by Chen Kaige – it also gained substantive international interest. Dominated by the 1982 graduates from the Beijing Film School, the fifth generation directors broke the fold from the post-Cultural Revolution directors with generous production and use of colour. This marked the difference from the ‘fourth generation directors’ who had lived through the Cultural Revolution and been deeply affected by it. The fourth generation directors had been encouraged to make ‘scar movies’ regarding the horrors of the Cultural Revolution whilst the fifth generation directors usually chose less controversial themes. The most famous directors of this category are Chen Kaige and Zhang Yimou. Many of the films of this era feature the luminous Gong Li, the most famous Chinese actress of the era.  

Movies from the fifth generation directors often occupy the top spots of ‘best of’ lists. The Shanghai Time Out in 2014 consulted 88 film makers and film critics to combine the 100 best Mainland Chinese movies. The top spot on that list belongs to a 1993 movie Farewell my concubine (1993) by Chen Kaige, co-winner of the Palme d’Or in Cannes (first Chinese movie to do that in Cannes). I have seen this movie but it is so long ago that I decide to watch it again. It is a landmark movie; it’s lavish, luscious and extravagant. It covers the story of two childhood friends who become stars in the Peking Opera and the movie tells their story mirroring over 50 years of Chinese history. It is a long and skilful film of loyalty and betrayal, jealousy and sacrifice. The original version saw 14 minutes cut by the Chinese authorities (especially related to the clear homosexual nature of one of the characters). It feels a bit long but it is still quite captivating, and it is understandable why it has become such an icon in the Chinese movie history. 

The other leading directors of the Fifth Generation is Zhang Yimou (who was also the director of the opening and closing ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics in 2008). His private life has attracted a lot of interest from his feud with his long-time producer to his almost a decade long affair with his muse Gong Li and later his marriage to a much younger wife that produced three children under China’s one child policy. 

One of Yimou’s earlier works is what has been called a landmark movie in the 5^th Generation Chinese cinematography, the 1991 movie Raise the Red Lantern. It won several international awards and gained widespread international acclaim. It is set in the 1920s and reflects the tight place of a woman in the Chinese society of the time. The main character, a 19-year old Songlian attends university but after her father’s death, her stepmother sends Songlian as a bride to a rich businessman who already has three other wives. All the wives live in separate buildings and compete and scheme to have the privileges that come from being favourite by the Man (their husband). 

It is a masterful movie about women trapped like animals in a dog-eat-dog world isolated from the outside world and victims of a patriarchal system in which rich and powerful males dictate their destiny. The movie never shows the face of the dominating patriarch and the women do what they must to survive in a situation of no friends and only enemies. It has been labelled to be a ‘romance movie’ but it is not such but suspense at its best. With its gorgeous outstanding cinematography, top notch acting (an amazing Gong Li) and powerful story, it really is a masterpiece.  

Visually stunning, House of Flying Daggers (2004), time-wise is part of the Sixth Generation director era but in production, direction and storytelling belongs to the Fifth Generation movies. It is the Mainland China’s respond to the success of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000). While with a much weaker story it does show again that director Zhang Yimou is a visual master. 

Now to the movie. The colours are stunning and vibrant, and the cinematography is outstanding. The two lead actors, both impossibly beautiful, Zhang Ziyi (also in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) and Takeshi Kaneshiro (who has stated his annoyance that his looks overshadow his talent and who has lived a reclusive life since 2017) do a fairly good job in a movie with a weak and predictable plot. This said, it is wonderful to see that in wuxia martial arts films like this a woman has a central and strong role. But the movie is stunning, the fight and dance scenes amazingly choreographed and the Ukrainian landscape (where the movie was filmed) gorgeous. It is worth to see just for the visuals (and the aesthetically pleasing leads) but not for the story itself. It is dedicated to Anita Mui who was meant to have a role in the film it but succumbed to ovarian cancer when the film had begun. Due to respect for her, the role was not included in the final version of the film. 

Under the Hawthorn Tree (2010) is another of Yimou’s movies, this time situated in the era of the Cultural Revolution. It is based on the book by Ai Mi which in turn is based on real events. Basically it is a love story during the Cultural Revolution when young people are sent to the countryside to be re-educated and they cannot marry before the age of 25. It is a lovely movie even if the age gap between the leads is slightly disturbing and the connection the couple feels is instant but I guess that is just how love is. Nevertheless, it is never explained why the adult Sun falls in love with Jing who all the time looks like a shy scared child and much younger of her years. She is a pure and virginal schoolgirl (16) and he is a geologist researcher. This puzzled me during the movie which overall I found a bit boring. After a masterpiece that is Raise the Red Lantern, this one feels like a filler piece for a talent that Yimou is. 

Time to watch another famous wuxia martial arts movie, another from Yimou. Hero (2002) gained widespread popularity in China and overseas, and was nominated for several international awards. It is aesthetically and visually a stunning movie – it is so beautifully shot that it is like a painting. Different parts of the film are filmed in different colours and the photography is just stunning. I was less engaged with the plot itself and a bit uncomfortable with the message of tyranny being the path to unification, but in absolute in awe with the beauty of it. There are long fight scenes that true to the wuxia tradition challenge gravity and look more like ballet than violence. People are beautiful and very serious – not much smiling in this movie. It is situated in the time of the Warring States period (576 – 221 BCE) and the plot to assassinate the ruler of the Qin Dynasty – the Dynasty that ended up beating all the rest of the warring states and unify China. 

2. Sixth generation directors 

The sixth generation movies mark a clear difference from the fifth generation. These directors from the post-Tiananmen China were more prone to portray a realistic, anti-romantic urban China. The films were mainly done without state funding with cheap equipment and often with hand-held cameras and non-professionals actors. The difference between them and the fifth generation directors is that while the fifth generationals have been broadly embraced by mainstream China, the sixth generation directors have struggled with censorship and lack of funding. One of the first independently produced sixth generation films was the famous film about the Beijing punk culture, Beijing Bastards (1993) by Zhang Yuan. Other famous 6^th generation directors are Jia Zhangke (I watched his film Still Life, 2006, for this movie stop, and was also considering watching another highly regarded film Ash is Purest White 2018),  Lou Ye (I watched his film Suzhou River, 2000), Wang Xiaoshuai (I watched Beijing Bicycle, 2001 and the masterful So Long, My Son, 2019 from him), among others. 

Beijing Bastards is interesting for being one of the pioneers of the Sixth Generation movies. The Chinese authorities were not happy with Yuan’s depiction of Chinese youth and he was banned from filmmaking in 1994 for two years. The director Yuan is also famous for directing the first Chinese movie about homosexuality, the 1996 East Palace, West Palace after which he moved to film more convention films. Beijing Bastards is interesting as a depiction of a certain subculture and the youth landscape of the time nothing like seen from China. It is meant as a “free-form portrait of rock-generation kids in the city” – there is a louse plot of a guy looking for a girl that left him but above all it is about music and the cultural sub scene of young people of the time finding an outlet for their angst much like everywhere else. 

The Three Gorges Dam is the largest power station in the world, constructed in 2006 but becoming fully operational in 2012. An estimated 1.4 million people had to be relocated from the area. Still Life (2006) is a prime example of a sixth generation movie and situated in the times of the construction of the Dam and in the Fengjie County which is within the affected area. The director Jia Zhangke is regarded to be a core member of the Sixth Generation director group. His early films were made without state support but once his international reputation grew, his relationship with the authorities became better. Still Life is a highly acclaimed and awarded (Golden Lion of the Venice Film Festival) digital film that depicts the arrival of two (not connected) people into the town in search for their spouses. It is a slow movie with quite strong background noise. It is an interesting movie, clearly influenced by Italian neorealism and with a notable objective of portraying people at the bottom of the food chain and living in an austere reality. I was not really engaged in the stories of these two people and found myself checking the watch more than often than not but what I did find remarkable is its documenting of the demolition of the dying city making way to the dam waters. 

Suzhou River (2000) is another film in the film noir category of ‘men obsessed with a beautiful enigmatic girl’ and in which the girl is very pretty but given no real personality. The director Lou Ye has opted to film with an at times nauseating hand held camera and a voiceover that carries the story. In the story, the gorgeous actress Zhou Xun (who also appears in three other films that I/we watched for this stop), plays two different characters: an enigmatic woman with cartoon-thin personality who works as a ‘mermaid’ in a tank in an underground bar and a 16-year old Lolita figure who is the object of passion of one of the men in the story (and who in one scene plays with a doll with her hair in pigtails). Zhou Xun is shown several times in her underwear and the motives of both of her characters in ‘falling in love’ with the men that stalk them are never explained. It is clichéd and shallow with cinematography that resembles a music video. There is only one other movie that I disliked more for this Chinese cinematographic stop and that’s the other adolescent male fantasy movie Long Day’s Journey Into Night). The interesting part of this movie is the landscape, the grim, industrial surroundings of the Suzhou River in Shanghai. 

Beijing Bicycle (2001) won its two leads Cui Lin and Li Bin the New Talent Award and for the film the Silver bear of the Berlin Film Festival in 2001. The director of the movie, Wang Xiaoshuai, is part of a loose group of the “Sixth Generation Chinese directors”. 

But, about this movie. It is a movie about a bicycle that becomes not only a symbol of the class differences, also a symbol of status and pride. The main characters are two boys; one a recent immigrant to the city and one a son of a city family investing in their children’s education (more than on bikes). One boy needs the bike for his work and when the bike is stolen and sold to the other, complexities of ownership and class. There is also a subplot, not related to the main story, of the immigrant boy and his father observing/lusting after a rich young woman who likes to walk around the neighbourhood in high heels. She is played by Zhou Xun (the actress from Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress and Shizhou River). It is an interesting movie, mainly for its landscape and description of class differences and less because of its melodramatic, predictable storyline in which women are one-dimensional objects of lust. While it is interesting movie, this is not the film to watch from the director Xiaoshuai. The one to watch is his masterful So Long My Son (see below the category 2010s)

2010s and beyond 

Hu Bo was a Chinese novelist and director from Jinan in the province of Shandong. He wrote three novels including Huge Crack (2017) that is the base of his only feature film, a nearly 4-hour long An Elephant Sitting Still (2018). After finishing the movie, he committed suicide and there are speculations that his death was related to the disagreements regarding the length of the movie. The movie opened to rave reviews and has been considered as one of the most important modern Chinese movies depicting a grim and depressing reality of urban China. 

Set in the industrial north (the Province of Hebei), it is a grim and dark movie of a hopeless world and disconnected people. People are isolated and victims of a lightless life. Emotions are few and even those few are guarded under the surface. The movie breaths sadness – the cinematography is grey and lifeless. As a spectator, I struggle with its hopelessness in a movie that is very long even if a faint sense of hope enters at the very end. I appreciate the glimpse of a depressive China, not always seen from the outside, and the portrayal of less fortunate people without much choice or alternatives in their lives. It is dedicated to its fallen director Bo whose deception with the world radiates throughout the movie. Is it worth the watch? Absolutely and without doubt. Just not a joy ride. 

“If you acknowledge time, you should also acknowledge the soul.” Send me to the clouds (2019) by Teng Congcong is a movie about a “leftover woman”. At the beginning of the movie someone explains that in Chinese culture an unmarried woman over 27 is a leftover one, Sheng nü. The term refers to unmarried women (27+) as leftover food and it was made popular by a 2007 report by the Chinese government (All-China Women’s Federation). When a woman’s destiny is to be a wife and a mother, and when she is neither she is considered useless, a leftover. The government report was followed by several news articles, movies and tv series that chastised unmarried women or portrayed their anxiety for finding a partner. The proportion of unmarried women has increased in recent years; according to the China Population and Employment Statistics Yearbook 2023, more than half of 25-29 years old were not married and a survey in 2021 revealed that 44% of young women were planning not to marry. This has brought societal consequences to a society with deeply rooted patriarchy and unnatural gender balance due to the one-child policy (1979-2015) – in 2023 the birth rate was still 110 males for every female (and in the age group 15-19 the ratio is even higher). There are 31 million more men than women. 

But, back to the movie. The movie is about an unmarried financially struggling journalist Shenghan who finds out she has ovarian cancer and is unable to pay for the expensive surgery. This leads her to accept a job to find that money but also to reflect on life, mortality, sexual desire, loneliness and personal freedom. She is a complex character which is interesting to see as it makes her multidimensional and human, and not always likable. 

Girls Always happy (2018) by Yang Mingming (debut) has been compared to Greta Gerwig’s Ladybird (2017). It is a story about a financially challenged mother-daughter duo living in a leaky ground-floor apartment in a hutong (narrow laneway) and navigating economic pressures, love affairs and life in general. All this while bickering and fighting each other. Director Mingming herself plays the part of the daughter. The story is placed in a modern day Beijing and shows people trying to meet the amends while keeping a certain standard of living. It has some witty dialogue and a clear love/hate relationship between two unbearable characters but it also never really evolves or goes anywhere – which could also be considered as one of its merits to reflect the mundanity of life. It is a nice little quite quirky film but if you are not invested in the characters (which I was not always) it feels long and would have benefitted from stronger editing. 

Critically acclaimed The Farewell (2019) is an interesting Chinese American film that was an undeserving commercial flop in both the US and China. Based on the real life experience of the director and screen writer Lulu Wang, it is about a Chinese American woman Billi whose family moved to the US when she was six. Her grandmother in China she is very close to is diagnosed with a terminal illness with very little time left. The family decided not to tell the grandmother that she is going to die very soon and instead plan a family wedding around the time. For a Western audience as for Billi it is first very hard to accept that the collective (the family) can decide over the right of an individual to know about the life but as the movie progresses, it also gently educates about the cultural differences and understanding of the collective nature of certain family cultures. The main character is played by an outstanding Awkwafina (who won several international awards for the role, e.g. being the first actress of Asian background to win a lead actress Golden Globe). It is a lovely movie that takes time to warm up but then evolves into a gentle, understanding and caring small movie. 

The original titles of some of the Chinese movies are quite different from the English translation. This is the case of So Long my son (2019), another movie by a 6^th generation director Wang Xiaoshuai (Beijing Bicycle – see an earlier category) that won acting awards at the 2019 Berlin International Film Festival. The Mandarin Chinese name for the movie means something like enduring/eternal while the world lasts. The movie has a score of 100% in Rotten Tomatoes and is extremely highly acclaimed by critics and audience alike. It is a well deserved score and the movie is outstanding. It is almost hard to put in into words how multilayered and remarkable this movie is. It deals with themes such as loss, love and guilt in an extraordinary way, all in the context of the changing China and above all the individual price of the one-child policy and the subordination of personal lives to an inhuman system. It presents its themes in a subtle but effective way and all characters are multilayered, complex and human in a quiet way. It is incredibly skilled storytelling in which the cinematography and stills have a significant weight. Basically a story of two families of two boys born on the same day, and one of the boys dies accidentally. It is nuanced, elusive and deep. 

When Long Day’s Journey Into Night (2018) premiered in China, #Ican’tunderstandLongDay’sJourneyIntoNight trended on social media. It was a moderate box office hit in China and enthusiastically received by film critics around the world. I have heard about it so I was looking forward to seeing it. The director, Bi Gan, was clearly influenced by hallucinatory movie makers such as David Lynch and the likes, and clearly on a mission to create a dream-like film noir.  And comme d’habitude in film noir, there is a femme fatale and a man obsessed with her.  There are long takes, slow dialogues and a 59-minute long dream sequence that is best to watch with 3D glasses. A much acclaimed movie that for me is beautiful to look at but with lifeless and thin characters and an emotionless weak romance. It is non-linear and a bit nonsensical. It comes across pretentious and plotless, an empty artsy mess. I fail to see the geniusness that others have seen. It almost feels senseless to watch something this hollow after an absolutely outstanding movie that is So Long My Son. 

Others

Not belonging to any particular generation is Oxhide (2005), a fictionalised documentary film by then a 23-year old Liu Jiayin who basically filmed his family’s life in a tiny apartment in Beijing. The film is set entirely inside the apartment where Jiayin films his family who are playing somewhat fictionalised versions of themselves (according to Jiayin). It offers an unprecedented access to the reality of the urban Chinese working class which as an idea is more exciting than the film itself. What is interesting is that it is an intimate portray of a family and their challenges (mainly financial) in such a specific setting that is Beijing of the 2000s. The apartment is minuscule which brings its own set of challenges. It is to be commended for its social commentary of economic hardships in ‘contemporary’ China (even if filmed twenty years ago). It is interesting for all those reasons but also as a cinematographic product I found it only partially engaging. 

I also wanted to watch a Tibetan movie in Tibetan language. The director of Kekexili: Mountain Patrol (2004), Lu Chuan is not ethnically Tibetan but the film is filmed in location in the majestic Kekexili with mostly Tibetan actors speaking Tibetan. The film has a lot of merit for bringing into attention the illegal hunting of endangered Tibetan antelope and is credited to have risen public awareness of their situation.  Director Chuan is contemporary of some of the Sixth Generation directors but he does not share the same style or concerns, and opted for a different kind of storytelling. The cinematography of this movie is stunning, the landscape of Kekexili is rugged and majestic, and almost like one of the main characters in the movie. Kekexili is the largest and highest plateau in the world and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

The movie is above all about the protection of heritage, environment and wildlife. It is based on real protection brigade of the Tibetan antelopes that patrolled the plateau in the early 1990s to protect the animals from the fur traffic. In the movie, the mountain patrol fights against poachers that kill up to 10,000 antelopes a year and are ready to give their lives for the environment. It is an amazing movie of a frontier of civilisation, almost a western, in an isolated, hostile, rugged, dry environment of high altitude (that makes breathing difficult). The movie shows not only some Tibetan customs, music and rituals but also sheds light to the old Tibetan custom of sky/celestial burial in which a body is left to compose or be eaten by birds in a high mountain location – a buried body would mean the soul to be trapped as it will continue its journey after the physiological death. 

I saw Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress (2002) years ago and loved it. After reading the book (that was lovely but impressed me less), I watched it again with JK and it was almost as lovely and nostalgic as when I saw it the first time. It did not touch me as deeply as it did when I was young but I still loved its gorgeous visual storytelling and its deep heart. Directed by Dai Sijie, the author of the book, for me achieves what the book did not. The movie is sweet, nostalgic and beautiful. It is about love, growth, friendship, and the power of literature and the arts. In the movie, as in the book, two urban young men Luo and Ma are sent to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution to be re-educated and they meet the Little Chinese Seamstress. It is beautifully shot in a stunning landscape. It has melancholy and beauty, austerity and richness, harshness and tender, repression and rebels.   

One night during the southern summer holidays, JK and I are browsing the movie offer and would like to see something light but interesting. We decide on a Chinese movie Snow flake and a secret fan (2011) that has received mixed to negative reviews but results to be quite entertaining.  The movie introduces us to an old Chinese tradition that we were not aware of, Laotong, which means a kindred bond between two women that in most cases is meant to last for a lifetime. Laotong is meant to be more than a friendship, it is a lifelong enduring connection, often formalised through a signed contract. The Laotong women would provide each other much needed contact and support in a society in which a woman’s place is very restricted. In the movie there are two alternating timelines, one modern and one of the 19^th century China. In both timelines two women (yes yes, the same in both) go through life’s turbulences that put theirs Laotong into a test. 

My final viewing of a very long Chinese Film Festival is a documentary about health workers and the early days of the COVID Pandemic in Wuhan. Filmed in four different hospitals in February – April 2020 it is an outstanding testimony of human resilience, duty of care and sense of servitude. Produced and filmed by Hao Wu (a documentarist currently residing in New York), Weixi Chen and a third anonymous director. They were first granted access to hospitals and had to wear uncomfortable protections suites (just like the health care workers) for hours at a time without toilet breaks or opportunity to rest. They managed to produce a highly emotional and effective documentary that gives a human dimension to Wuhan, the birthplace of SARS-CoV2. The dedication, care, resilience and worry of the heath workers is exceptional. 

This concludes our massive, very long and super interesting Mainland China Film Festival ☺. It has been great but it is time to move on and give way to the Colombian Film Festival. 

A word about Pandas 

Just to finish the long and massive virtual stop in China, a few words about Pandas. Pandas eat about 20 kg of bamboo every day and can poo up to 40 tines. They are solidary animals and prefer a lonely life of eating and consuming as little energy as possible avoiding human contact and other Pandas.  They are cute but not up for hugs. There are about 1,864 Pandas in the wild and 600 in zoos around the world. Every Panda that is alive, belongs to China in one way or another. 

Photo WWF Australia 

Next stop: Colombia 

Thank you L for your proof reading!

Chile – long and narrow – over 4,300 km long but surprisingly slender with its widest point only about 350 km. Chile shares borders with Argentina, Bolivia and Peru and is in possession of the mystical Island Rapa Nui, along with the driest desert in the world, Atacama of million stars. Squeezed between the majestic Andes and the Pacific ocean, it is still not known where this land of a thousand landscapes got its name. It could have been either the Aimara word chili meaning ‘where the land ends’, the Mapuche word chilli meaning the same thing (‘where the land ends’) or a Mapuche word meaning sea gulls. Other theories say that it comes from a Quechua word chiri meaning ‘cold’, or another Quechua word tchili meaning ‘snow’ or ‘ the deepest point of the Earth’. There are other hypotheses as well regarding the name of this Southernmost land with a long history,with its ups and downs. 

But first, as always. Food. 

The friendly Paula in Fairfield 

There are two cafes in Sydney that offer Chilean food; la Paula, also called Paula Continental Cakes in far-western Sydney, Fairfield and Pochota in Mascot, close to the airport. One warm summer Saturday when five of us had an activity planned in Western Sydney, we decided to stop in Fairfield and check out the offerings of la Paula– which turned out to be a really good decision. The food is simple but delicious, and the service is wonderful. It truly is a gem. L (17) and A (11) get to practice their Spanish successfully and we go home with Chilean treats to share with some other Virtual Nomads. 

If you walk past it, it is easy to nearly miss it. From the outside, the shopfront looks like an eatery in an industrial area, but when you walk in, you are instantly welcomed by its friendly and bustling atmosphere with Chilean flags and products, and staff, some of whom only speak a few words of English. We learn that it is nearly an institution in the area. La Paula has been run by the same family in the location for over 30 years (first the parents, then the offspring, two sisters called Daniela and Claudia Casanova). The Casanova family first opened it in Liverpool but moved to Fairfield in the mid-80s. It is the oldest Chilean restaurant in Sydney and clearly has a very loyal clientele. The restaurant was not packed on a summer Saturday afternoon a few days before the New Year’s but all tables were definitely full. Spanish was spoken in most, if not in all tables. Most of the Spanish I hear is Chilean but here and there I hear people from other Latin American countries as well. The restaurant has several 5-star reviews, now including ours. Each dish is handmade following the original recipes of the Casanova family – and you can notice that in the taste – everything is fresh and delicious to the tastebuds. 

Empanadas are pastry filled with a range of yumminess and clearly a hit at la Paula. We ordered baked empanadas: meat ones (empanada de carne) alongside ones with spinach (empanada de espinaca). La Paula offers two types of empanadas; baked and fried. The empanadas are excellent. The meat empanada is the most traditional one (and the most ordered) and it comes with beef, onion, egg, olive and spices. Besides spinach, la empanada de espinaca is filled with cheese and egg. We would have liked to have had some fried empanadas with homemade cheese, but they were sold out for the day.

A(11) opts for a simple completo – a hot dog – there are several options for hot dogs/ completes (some of them come with mayonnaise, sauerkraut and palta – which is avocado) but A wants a plain one and is very happy with it. L (17) and NA (18) each go for a different sandwich with fries. NA chooses a Barros Luca – a steak sandwich or churrasco as Paula calls it – with sliced steak and melted cheese. L goes for a lomito palta mayo (a sliced pork meat sandwich – pictured) that has pork, mayonnaise and palta (avocado). Even if the food looks ordinary, there is something that makes it delicious, say the youngsters. 

An absolute win is Pupusas which is originally a dish from El Salvador and usually not common in Chile. Pupusas are cheese filled corn pancakes – in El Salvador they also sometimes include pork but this was not the case with la Paula, where pupusas came with cabbage salad and tomato sauce. We mix it with a delicious mixed salad with palta (avocado), tomato, onion and lettuce. The food is fresh and tastes homemade in the best possible way. 

The food is accompanied by Chilean soft drinks.

After lunch, we decide to buy some Chilean desserts to bring home and maybe share with a fellow Virtual Nomad EB and her family, as we will meet them for a Moonlight Cinema session (a feature of Sydney summer, movies under the stars in different locations, our favourite being Moonlight Cinema in Centennial park where you can bring your own picnic rug and food, drinks etc.). The La Paula display cabinet shows different desserts, many of them with manjar blanco – the Chilean version of dulce de leche (typical of Argentina), made of condensed milk and evaporated milk. It is very hard to choose but we end up taking a few different types of Chilenitos and Alfajores (two biscuits served as a sandwich with a generous amount of manjar blanco in the middle). 

Where the land ends 

Chile is a land of a thousand landscapes that run from the majestic Andes to the driest desert in the world, the mighty Atacama and within its 4000+ km land the country boasts many volcanoes, glaciers, mountains, valleys, islands and a long, long coastline. Home to the Indigenous Mapuche who successfully fought against the Inca Empire (1432-1533 – only the north part of modern Chile was conquered by the Inca) and the Spanish colonizers. As in other parts of the Americas, Spain conquered vast areas, including Chile. While the Spaniards were really into the Peruvian gold and other shiny things, Chile seemed to offer less monetary treasures so they were a bit less enthusiastic about it. The Mapuche were strong and resourceful, and resisted the Spanish conquest for more than three centuries. After independence, industrialisation resulted in the end of the Mapuche resistance in the 1880s. Currently around 10% of Chileans are of Mapuche origin.

Spanish Pedro de Valdivia founded the capital Santiago in 1541 – he was killed later by the Mapuche. In the Mapuche resistance history, a war warrior Lautaro is a famous figure. He was captured as a teenager and served as a personal servant to Pedro de Valdivia but later led many battles by the Mapuche side. He observed and learned from the Spanish military actions and therefore it was easy for him to know where their weaknesses were. He was killed by a Spanish ambush in 1557 while he was attempting to free the whole of Chile from Spanish rule. 

Chile gained independence from Spain in 1818. Chile started to industrialise, gaining economic and also some military power when winning the War of Pacific (1879-83) against Bolivia and Peru. There were some turbulences within, including short wars in 1829-30, 1851 and 1859. The 20^th century Chile saw economic and population growth, democratisation and urbanisation. Democratically elected left-wing Salvador Allende became president in 1970 but in 1973 a military coup seized power and placed Augusto Pinochet as the dictator for the next 17 years. During his regime, at least 3000 people were killed or forcefully disappeared, and nearly 30,000 were imprisoned and/or tortured. The 1988 referendum brought the regime to its end in 1990. In 2011 the Chilean government recognised additional victims and the total number of dead, tortured and imprisoned people were confirmed to be more than 40,000. The transition to democracy has resulted in fairly peaceful democratic and economic development. The current president is a former student leader Gabriel Boric who won the presidency in 2021 at the age of 35. 

Books from Chile: the literature giants Isabel, Roberto and José, and some others

You cannot talk about Chilean literature without mentioning Isabel Allende, Gabriela Mistral and Pablo Neruda. When I was young, I was enchanted by Pablo’s poems (“La noche está estrellada, y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos”) but I fell out of love with him when I read his biography, in which he confesses to raping a young maid in Sri Lanka, and does not recognise his actions as a rape. He also abandoned his child and wife and did all sorts of things that makes him ever so yuckier. So no Pablo. Pablo boo.

Gabriela Mistral is a Nobel-winning poet and Isabel Allende has been called the world’s most read Spanish-writing author. I have read some of her books so I will not for this stop. Instead, I have invited my rising literature critic L (17) to read and review Isabel’s most famous book – and top rated on Goodreads – The House of the Spirits (1982). My own favourite book from Isabel is her most personal and raw book Paula (1995), written about the terminal illness and eventual death of her daughter Paula at the age of 29. 

L’s review: (I am now 18! This took me a while… I’ll explain why!)

Wow. What a tremendous achievement this book is, at 500 pages of beautiful prose in very small print. Before I begin my ranting and raving, I definitely acknowledge both that I read a translation, and that this book holds so much power. I can certainly see how Allende’s words impact and inspire readers for life, and can guarantee I will think about this narrative for years to come. If someone told me this was their favourite book, however, I would perhaps question that due to my own experience: one of pure rage!!!!

Okay. So, this book supposedly follows, essentially, 4 generations of Chilean women, culminating in the horrors of the 1973 coup and proceeding dictatorship. The story holds and is structured around many facets of Allende’s deeply familial experiences, with the on-page bravery of her uncle, and her understanding and relationship with the magical realism of connections to the spiritual universe. The reason I found this book as such a masterpiece was due to the constructive elements, namely the wonder of her words, which (mostly) terrifically hit the nail on the head in dissecting the humanity within.

BUT!!

There were many, many parts of it that I despised. Sorry, that’s a lie. One particular story feature boiled my blood until it almost evaporated beneath my skin. ESTEBAN TRUEBA!!!!! What a horrible man who did not get what he deserved (I know that is partially the point of the story, especially with the symbolic and peaceful conclusion). It seemed very uneven at times! He would rape many underage women, physically, emotionally, financially, sexually and psychologically abuse everyone he met (even a corpse, spoilers!) without exception, and have moments of clarity where he appeared to be forgiven by the very people he quite literally knocked the teeth out of, even after their death! Why would Clara marry someone who would be so cruel when she was a brilliant clairvoyant? Why would any of his relatives be as forgiving as they were? I had to stop reading at times (including on my birthday) because this aspect enraged me so. My dear boyfriend (NA) asked me if I was ‘still reading the book that makes [me] angry’ and that I ‘yelled about’.

That said, it was incredibly entertaining, keeping me (when out of anger and ready to face the story) slowly digesting every word to savor the (melo)drama. Allende is a master of curating mood and passion (it is true that I lost count of how many times the characters ‘made love’, nothing wrong with that, of course!), and the last 100 pages were some of the finest I have ever read, despite some of my moral disagreements and personal preferences (I thought some narrative choices were quite neat, compared to the beautiful rawness of other moments: an example is the character of Ferula, who is unfortunately not referenced very much after her death, who I quite liked. Despite the emotional and triumphant finale with a lovely message, some of the realness of female brutality that had truly struck my very soul was lost in Alba’s final moments with her grandfather (again, Treuba, my object of sheer disgust), who contributed to her uncomparable suffering in a non-direct but otherwise crucial manner. 

All in all, this was a safe 4 stars out of 5, because it is rare that a book will make me THIS mad, which is true testament to the author’s talents for evoking pure, unadulterated emotion. The novel also showed me a new side of the world I had not been exposed to, in an often fun, intriguing and visceral way, which is all I could really ask for.

(I am so sorry for the length of my literary rant– I promise that for future reviews I will rein it in (surely I will not be this enraged over words on a page very often!)

While L is reading her Chile book, I turn my gaze to other books: 

Roberto Bolaño is considered a literature giant. He left his native Chile at the age of fifteen, lived around the world (most notably Mexico and Catalonia), had a complex relationship with his motherland (as he was incarcerated briefly during the early days of Pinochet, but was also a fierce critic of the ‘literature elite’ of the country, including Ms Allende) and died at the age of 50 of liver failure. His estate continues to milk his fame, and his personal and private life has attracted much interest and produced several dedicated books. Years ago I tried to read his opus magna, a very celebrated and hailed 1000+ page book called 2666 which might or might not be an unfinished manuscript. 2666 features on many of the ‘best Latin American literature’ lists, and in quite a few occupies the top spot. The mammoth size of the book put me off and at the time I could not finish it. Roberto was also an author that I did not associate with Chile as he had lived many years in Catalonia close to Barcelona, and when I lived in Barcelona, he was considered a ‘local author’. For this entry of Virtual Nomad, I was thinking of returning to my intent of reading 2666 but then abandoned the thought and decided to opt for his other very celebrated book (of mere 600+ pages) Los Detectives Salvajes from 1998 (translated into English as The Savage Detectives, 2007). Again, I have the benefit of being able to read these verbal figure skaters in the original language – but honestly in this case the language itself is fairly simple, so I doubt the novel’s presentation would have suffered from translation. According to countless literature critics, the brilliance is in the form of its non-linear storytelling and “sprawling, fragmented narrative that reflects the messy reality of human experience” rather than linguistics itself. Both 2666 and The Savage Detectives feature on the 2024 New York Times ‘Best Books of the 21^st Century’ list (composed by 503 writers and academics), respectively on the 6^th and 38^th spot. 

Now, this is a very celebrated book with dedicated discussion groups and several people comparing it to On the Road by Jack Kerouac. It is particularly loved by literature critics and other writers. It is considered to reflect everything from mortality to the fleeting nature of everyday existence, and becomes a testimony to the profoundly mundane nature of life. One reviewer had tattooed the book’s name (or symbol?) on his arm to remind him of the book and someone else said that it capsulated everything that literature is about at its best. It is said to have an exceptional character development ( each with their distinctive voice); and that it reflects exile, identity and the lightness of being; and studies the creative process and the relationship between life and art.  Then of course there are people that do not get it at all, and quite a few that abandon it after the first 100 pages. One reviewer summed it up by saying:” I mean, seriously, nothing happened. And it isn’t even as if nothing has happened particularly artfully or lyrically. It’s a very prosaic kind of nothing.” 

The plot? The main characters are so-called poets named Arturo Bolano and Ulisses Lima – based on Roberto Bolaño himself (Arturo) and his real-life best friend, Mario Santiago Papasquiaro (Ulisses). They start a poetry movement called Infrarealists (also real) in 1970s Mexico City, surrounded by a large group of people, mainly other poets (many also based on real people). They hate Octavio Paz (a Mexican writer and poet, a Nobel laureate) and disappear while trying to find a lost poetess Cesárea Tijanero. The 600+ pages are divided into three parts, of which the ‘savage detectives’ is the middle, most extensive one. 

What was this book for me? Honestly? I did read all of its 600+ pages, but it took me a long time. For me it is a book that has parts of four, even five stars at times, and sections that barely hit  one – it is fragmented, very long, partly interesting, partly not. The first part, the coming-of-age diary of a young poet who reads a lot, has a lot of sex and fantasises of having even more sex, is only partly interesting. Yeah I get that the young poets (there are more than one) feel invincible and their life’s meaning is to live in the moment, and then time and age do their thing and peel the innocence out of the young souls. The second part (the most extensive) consists of testimonies of many people (some said 52 but I did not count) that knew Bolano and Ulisses, and it is my favourite part of the book. The personal testimonies contrast each other and give multiple perspectives to events, and are actually quite interesting (and almost fascinating at times) until it goes on and on forever and loses its spark once you start losing interest in the characters because quite frankly, in the end, Bolano and Ulisses are not that interesting. But some parts, I admit, are beyond brilliance – and other parts are boring as hell. The third part is again the diary of the young poet and frankly an unnecessary part. To me, it feels like Roberto just could not let go of the story and the people in it.

While I do not question the brilliance of this book, I recognise that I am not its right audience. I read books for compelling stories, deep thoughts, learning, reflecting and engaging emotional journeys – books that move or inform, and go somewhere. I got none of that from this book – it reads almost like a forensic report, an endless group study or a very long, inconclusive  yapping session. Books like this are for people who love books that are more about writing than about a story, books that talk a lot but say very little, are cerebral more than emotional. The way the movie Memento challenged convention filmmaking, this book is unconventional in its fragmented timelines and endless personal testimonies, stories within stories. I understand why a literature critic would love it but in the end, did I? That leads into a dilemma: should I give it 4-5 stars for its perceived brilliance and unconventional form or should I give it two stars because in the end I had to push myself through it and its endless descriptions of different people and their mundane life (some genuinely interesting, some really not) and long lists of names of poets. Reading is a subjective exercise so I am thinking of giving it three stars, and then still thinking that I maybe should have given it four stars or maybe I should have given it two stars. Or maybe five because it is a book like no other or maybe one because in some parts I could only read a couple of pages before being bored (and JK said that sometimes it looked like reading it was like a punishment). So yes, maybe three stars. But then, because of the very last page, I could give it four. 

Maybe that is one of the reasons for its brilliance. Then again, maybe not. 

I plan to read two other books from Chilean authors and I have hard time deciding between 

José Donoso and then other names I have been recommended, including Alia Trabucco Zerán, Diamela Eltit, Lina Meruane and Nona Fernández. My friend M CLA also recommends an anti-poet Nicanor Parra (but can I really do one more of those?). In the end I give up and decide to read José’s most famous book, El obsceno pájaro de la noche (1970), all an institution in Chilean literature; and then my failed intention was to choose between the other four to read one more book. No wonder Virtual Nomad stops are so long.

José Donoso was one of the most acclaimed writers from Chile, and part of the magical realism movement (whose arguably most famous associated writer was Colombian Gabriel Garcia Márquez). El obscene pájaro de la noche (1970, translated as The Obscene Bird of Night first in 1973 but the most recent translation from 2024 adds twenty pages that were removed from the 1973 translation). It is another dense, highly praised book, with 500+ pages. In the Prologue, a Chilean writer and literary critic Álvaro Bisama says that El obscene pájaro de la noche is “the most complex, the most unyielding and the most unbearable of José’s books”. He continues that it is unbearable because it “requires tolerance and commitment from the reader regarding its dense and nervous writing that changes its core constantly, mixing identities, and makes the reader drown in the corners of a voice that syntonises too many voices, all misaligned in their possible bodies”.(my translation). I hope I am not getting into another “talks so much and says so little” books but I give it a try. 

It IS a confusing book, and it is indeed a book that challenges the reader. Sometimes there is a narrator and sometimes there is not, and sometimes the narration changes in one paragraph. It is grotesque and intriguing, but also infuriating and at times annoying. Still, even if I did not fully love it, I found it mesmerising, mind-bending and captivating. Its messiness can be exhausting and sometimes I did not fully understand what I was reading and who was talking but it does break the forms and codes of modern literature in a mind-blowing way.  A vulgar, ludicrous and bizarre story that is perverted, maniacal and freakish. It is difficult to sum up what it is about but it reads almost as a gothic horror story of distorted people and distorted realities. The central character (maybe) is Mudito (‘the Mute’), a prisoner of his mutilated body living in a convent/maze of dark corners and deep secrets surrounded by nuns / witches. He was once the assistant to the most powerful politician of the country and runs a ‘palace of monsters’ (people with severe deformations) so that his master’s deformed son would live among equals – but because of his desire for his master’s angelic wife (who herself might be a prisoner to an old woman or maybe a yellow dog), he is transformed into the Mudito who also serves as a living doll / baby for a young woman with developmental delay and an eternal pregnancy (who was impregnated – maybe – by him or someone else -wearing a giant costume head of a –Giant). It is an astonishing roller coaster and one of the weirdest, wildest, most unusual literature rides I have ever had.  Without a hint of literature snobbism, it is nauseating and profoundly strange, but truly original. 

After a memorable book, whatever comes next will no doubt carry the burden of a difficult predecessor. My next book is by Alia Trabucco Zerán who studied creative writing in New York with a Fulbright scholarship and finished a PhD in Spanish and Latin American Studies in London. La Resta from 2015 (the English translation is called The Remainder) is her debut, a Man Booker International Prize shortlisted and winner of literature awards in Chile. 

Writing a compelling story is difficult, and Alia achieves it partially. With a fascinating start, it is a story about three people – first children, then young adults – whose parents have different destinies under the Chile of Pinochet. Paloma, a romanticized and somewhat caricatured bad girl, has lived in exile in Germany with her parents. She wants to bring her dead mother’s body to Santiago. She comes in contact with Iqueta whom she knew briefly as a child, and Iqueta’s childhood friend Felipe. Iqueta and Felipe are the alternating narrators in the book – Iqueta’s chapters are descriptive and sequential, and Felipe’s are one long sentence (often a sentence of 2,5 pages) of brain mush and obsession about dead bodies. The basic story is that Paloma’s mother’s body (that travels to Chile on a different plane than Paloma, a weird fact that is never explained) gets lost in transit and sent to Buenos Aires due to a volcano erupting, and the three need to embark on a road trip to find the body. There is much intent and effort in incorporating intergenerational trauma and guilt into the story but it fails to build anything deeper or overall meaningful, and I am also bothered by the weakesh construction of the characters that are more caricatures than real people. It is a book with a lot of cleverness and ingenious writing but loses its steam as the story progresses. 

Diamela Eltit has been called one of the most daring Latin American authors. She has been a high school Spanish teacher, a university professor, anti-Pinochet activist, wife of a former socialist presidential candidate and has held many writing workshops for young students. Jamás el fuego nunca (2007, translated in 2021 as Never did the Fire – the translator Daniel Hahn kept a diary about the translation process) is a relatively short but very dense book; structurally an internal / external monologue of a woman who is isolated in a room with her dying partner. She observes him and his bodily functions (long sentences about how she is disgusted about the way he eats rice) and his pain while reminiscing about their past as part of a radical left-wing group, the failure of romantic love and the passages of loss – the loss of the illusions of the youth and the ideals they once had and other deep personal losses. Death is approaching, his body crumbles and time is closed into a small space of a small room they cannot leave. Highly skilled writing and linguistic tricks, but as a book itself it is fairly monotone to read and hard to fully appreciate. It feels as if the descriptive flatness is deliberate to reflect the dead time in the room and the nothingness that their life has converted into. 

My final book from Chile is Sangre en el ojo (2012) by Lina Meruane (translated as Seeing Red in 2017) – a fictionalised memoir of Lucina / Lina who loses her eyesight in a foreign country, then travels to Chile and then back again. The author herself had the same condition as Lina in the book, but in real life she [the real-life Lina] did not lose her full eye sight whereas Lina in the book does. The premise is interesting but when I start reading it, I remember why auto-fiction is at times excruciating and self-serving, and it takes a long time for the book to finally fly – and towards the end it does. Let’s just say that the third act makes it worth the read, but it is a long path to get there, through a never-ending stream of consciousness and victimization. It is a short, quite dense book – and interestingly Lina was named by Roberto Bolaño as a leading voice of the new Chilean writing (maybe for the endless yapping?). The book has won several awards, and Lina has written more books about the disease. 

The Chilean Film Festival 

Chile is another cinematographic powerhouse with a generous offer of movies. I have several Chilean friends, so I look for their approval for my ‘10 films from Chile’ list. My beautiful and brave friend M DLA not only approves of the list, but also recommends a 4-part documentary series that is significant and important to her family. Unfortunately, some of the films are not available, so I end up adding others. So, in the end, my Chilean Film Festival consists of 12 cinematographic products: first the ones from the ‘10 films from Chile’ that I can find: Una mujer fantástica (A fantastic woman, 2017); Violeta se fue a los cielos (Violeta went to heaven, 2011); Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus (2013); Cielo (2017); El Chacotero Sentimental (1999); Machuca (2004); No (2012 – I have seen this one years ago but I want to rewatch it with the kids); Chile, las Imágenes Prohibidas (Chile, prohibited images: forty years later, 2013) and Colonia Dignidad (a Netflix documentary series of one of the world’s most disturbed and terrible cults). After the list is approved, along the way I add the Maid (2009), El castigo (The Punishment, 2022), La memoria infinita (The Eternal Memory, 2023) and what turns out to be my favourite of them all: the Mole Agent (2020).

The movies that were on the original list but not available and therefore added to the ‘watch one day’ file are Princesita (2017, Marialy Rivas), the Club (2015), Sin Norte (Lost North, 2015) and Y De Pronto el Amanecer (And Suddenly the Dawn, 2017 by Silvio Caiossi). 

In addition, the movie Gloria (2013) is on many ‘Best Movies from Chile’ lists but because I have seen it already some years ago, I did not watch it again for this occasion. It has a magnificent Julianne Moore in the title role. I also highly recommend the movie No (2012) that I have seen a few times, with another magnificent actor in the main role, Gael Bernal. 

So, let the Chilean Film Festival begin. 

In these times of growing transphobia, it is a good moment to watch Una mujer fantástica (A fantastic woman, 2017) by Sebastián Leio – a multi awarded movie about a transgender woman facing the death of her partner and the hatred of the dead partner’s family. The main character is played by a mesmerising Daniela Vega, who in 2018 was named as one of the most influential people in the world by the Time Magazine. The movie is gentle and humane without any sensational undertones. It is about people and the human experience of love and loss – and the astonishing and unreasonable hatred that some people express on the freedom and life choices of others and the constant microaggressions trans people face. The centrepiece is the understated dignity that Daniela’s character has at the vanishing of the protection she enjoyed while her partner was alive. She faces institutional humiliation (the police, doctors), passive-aggressive treatment anywhere she goes, and abusive personal attacks while dealing with grief and loneliness. The film is credited for a shift in treatment towards transgender people in 2017 and the passing of the 2018 Gender Identity Law in Chile after the movie won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film. But while the movie created a momentum in 2017, unfortunately, its impact seems to be far forgotten in 2024. 

Violeta se fue a los cielos (Violeta went to heaven, 2011) by Andrés Wood is a nonlinear biography of Violeta Parra, an important figure in the revival of folk music in Chile. Born to poverty, Violeta became an important voice of the Nueva Canción (New Song Movement) denouncing the worsening social conditions in the country, political oppression and fighting for freedom of expression. Violeta has been called the Edith Piaf of Chile and she is famous for her song Gracias a la Vida. Violeta died of suicide at the age of 49.

The movie is nonlinear, beautifully filmed in warm colours and with an outstanding performance by Francisca Gavilán, who seems to be born to play Violeta. It is a poetic film which requires the audience to have some degree of knowledge about Violeta and her life. As I am somewhat familiar with her story, for me the film is a fascinating and magnificent homage to someone so talented yet volatile, complex and impulsive (the story is based on a book by her son who has been heavily involved with the making of the movie). Music plays an important part of the film and is the narrator to many of the important and devastating events in Violeta’s life; including the death of her youngest child and the torrid love affair with Swiss musician Gilbert Favre. 

Crystal fairy and the magical cactus (2013) is a refreshing small indie film from Sebastián Silva. Based on a true story – and apparently following the real events very truthfully – the actors include Silva himself, his two brothers and two American (indie) actors Michael Cera and Gaby Hoffman. The dialogue is mainly improvised (while the actors might or might not be high on Mescaline) which brings a certain freshness to the story. The story follows an obnoxious and annoying American tourist (Michael) on a quest for a psychedelic drug experience with Mescaline (found in a cactus called San Pedro/Trichocereus pachanoi). He takes a trip with three Chilean friends (Sebastián and his brothers) and accidently  invites an American new-age hippie princess named Crystal Fairy on the night before the trip begins to come along for the ride. Apparently everything that happens in the movie is what really happened. Sebastián met a woman called Crystal Fairy and her story is real. The acting is wonderful and feels very genuine. The movie does not pretend to be the best movie around, but rather an illustrated memory of a moment in time. While the movie is charming and easy to follow, even if not that memorable for most part, it is the very last minutes of the movie, and the story of Crystal Fairy, that comes out of nowhere and is truly impactful. In an interview (Movieline, 2013), Gaby Hoffman says about her character:  I talked to Seb about Crystal Fairy. I would tell him, “Never let me go too far. Don’t let me try to make her so funny that I lose sight of who this person really was”. She was a huge influence in his life.  He had a very emotional experience with her.”

Gaby Hoffman (see previous movie) said that her favourite movie from Sebastián Silva is The Maid (2009, ‘La Nana’ in Spanish). In fact, she said it is one of the best movies ever, so I decide to watch that before going back to the preset list. This is the forth movie about a live-in maid that I watch for Virtual Nomad (the others appeared in Bolivia, Brazil, Cabo Verde).  It is about Raquel, having been with the same family for 23 years and categorised by excessive use of cleaning products, who starts to have dizzy spells leading to the family wanting to bring in someone to help work with Raquel. The movie is very empathetic to Raquel’s sometimes questionable methods of defending her territory, and that is what probably makes this small movie quite nice. The characters are multidimensional which is hilarious at times – the teenage daughter who wants to fire Raquel (without thinking about the consequences) but at the dinner table (while Raquel is serving the family) gets passionate about human rights in Russia, or the mother who struggles with the temperamental Raquel and just wants to please everyone. I liked the movie and I think it is an interesting watch – it is not very different from the other three that are of a similar theme but still a reminder of the sacrifices living-in service staff make. 

Cielo (2017, “Sky” in English) by Alison McAlpine is an interesting documentary of the breathtakingly stunning night sky of the Atacama Desert. Atacama, the driest desert in the world, is situated in Northern Chile. The documentary is about the sky, but also about the scientists that work there and the people living in the area. It is about stories and the land, and the sky that seems to have its own persona. The scientists talk about their perspective and the people living in the Atacama give their perspective from encounters with spirits to the presence of the stars as old friends. It is best to watch on a wide screen as the footage of the nocturnal Atacama is spectacular. 

El Chacotero Sentimental (Christián Galaz and others, 1999) is based on an actual radio program in the Radio Station of Radio Pop & Rock in which a radio DJ gives advice to people that call the program. The three stories in the movie are based on actual, anonymous, stories of callers between February 1997 and October 1998. It was the commercially most successful movie from Chile in decades. The stories are quite different – the transition from the first story, a light-hearted but profoundly ridiculous sex story to the very dark second story is quite a contrast. The second story is the most impactful and it feels like the centrepiece, as the two others serve as buffers (the third being another story about horny people). Quite frankly, for me this film was by far the least interesting (and the lowest in overall quality) of the Virtual Nomad Chile Film Festival. 

Machuca (2004) is a superb film by Andrés Wood. Set against the background of the political instability before and after the military coup of 1972, it tells a story about a friendship of two boys from very different backgrounds. 12-year old Gonzalo comes from a wealthy family (with its own problems) and goes to an exclusive boys’ school in Santiago (based on a real school). The priest (based on a real person) that runs the school invites five boys from poor and mostly Indigenous neighbourhoods to join the school. One of the boys, Pedro Machuca, befriends Gonzalo and they enjoy an intense but short friendship in a turbulent world. Gonzalo also meets Silvana (a spectacular performance by Manuela Martelli) who joins the boys in a trio of friendship. A coming of age story through the lens of social justice and subtle complexities of daily life and relationships within the changing world. It is very touching, very real and with superb production, cinematography, acting and directing – and most importantly shows the turbulent times through the eyes of children. It does not shy away from the economic and political tensions of the Allende era but efficiently shows the brutality of the military regime. 

In 2016, in Hokkaido Japan, a couple punished their seven year old son’s bad behaviour in the car by leaving him by the road and driving off. When they drove back in a few minutes, the boy had disappeared and while the world was holding its shared breath, was not found until after seven days miraculously surviving freezing nights. It is not clear if El Castigo (The Punishment, 2022) by Matías Bize is inspired by this event, but the setting is very similar. A couple leaves their son Lucas by the road as a punishment and when they drive back, he is nowhere to be found. It is remarkably shot in real time with one long take (80 minutes) which brings intensity to the story, and one can just admire the work of the actors who totally stay in character for the whole length. It is easy to villainise one of the characters and feel empathy for the other, even with the movie trying to explain underlying feelings.  The fundamental aspect is that not all people are born to be parents, and the film explores the psychology of certain emotional neglect (be that one’s own emotions and desires, or directed towards another person). 

La Memoria Infinita (the Eternal Memory, 2023) by Maite Alberdi is a multi-awarded documentary about a couple living with the husband’s Alzheimer’s disease and consequent dementia. In this case, the couple is composed of a renowned journalist Augusto Góngora and his partner of 25 years, actress (and at one time equivalent to the Minister of Culture) Paulina Urrutia. It is a warm, gorgeous, loving and heartbreaking testimony of the deterioration of a brilliant mind and the impact it has on the people around him. Augusto had a long and acclaimed career as a journalist, restoring the shared memory of the atrocities of the Chilean military dictatorship, including the death of a close friend. The documentary is exquisite, skilfully combining videos of Augusto’s long career, his reporting of social injustice, memories of his family life and his slow, depthful but steady progress into losing himself to dementia. And it is about Paulina, seventeen years younger than Augusto, and her love and care for him. I watched it first by myself and then again with my partner JK who also found it incredibly touching.  

Because we found La Memoria Infinita so compelling, we decide to check out another of Maite’s documentaries, the (again) multi-awarded, highly praised El Agente Topo (the Mole Agent, 2020). It is an outstanding, moving and occasionally hilarious documentary of an 83-year old ‘mole agent’ investigating the living conditions of a nursing home in Santiago. The story grows into a wonderful and compassionate human story about old age, love, friendship and life itself. Of all the hugely interesting films of the Chilean Film Festival, this is my favourite. Both JK and I love it – it has heart and soul, and it owes a lot to the subject of the documentary, Sergio Chamy, a warm and caring human who carries himself and treats others with immense dignity.   

The successful Netflix comedy series A Man in the Inside (with Ted Danson) is based on this documentary but while Maite’s documentary is raw and real, the series feels artificial and unnecessarily affluent. It has lost the authenticity that Maite’s documentary has. 

A lot has been said about cults and sects but if there is a competition regarding which one is the worst of the very worst, the Colonia Dignidad cult in Chile must be close to the top of that list. I did know a bit about it beforehand, but I had never even imagined the entire, terrible truth of the cult of ultra-crazy Paul Schäfer. JK and I watched a 6-episode long, outstanding however hard to stomach Netflix documentary series, Colonia Dignidad. It is an incredible documentary to open your eyes, that you just cannot watch on one go. Paul Schäfer himself was a German religious preacher who fled Germany in 1959 due to paedophilia accusations, and founded a colony in Chile in 1961 with 300 mainly German followers – that included a large number of kidnapped children. The colony was basically set up to be his personal paedophilia haven (of young boys) dressed up as a youth center and a Christian colony where adults were separated from their children and the extreme controller Schäfer reigned through questionable theology and super restricted, tyrannical and controlling behaviour and regulations. A personal friend of Pinochet, he also welcomed the Chilean secret police to kill and torture political dissidents, often working class young people (and participated in the killing himself). A fenced, barricaded colony of brainwashing, Northern Korea-type idolatraction, torture, sexual and emotional abuse, arms possession and dealing, human rights violations, paedophilia, forced labour, fear-based control system that was allowed to continue for nearly forty years. 

(There is also a fictional movie about the commune, starring Emma Watson and Daniel but again, it is fiction whereas the series we watched shows the awful truth). 

My friend M DLA recommends Chile, las Imágenes Prohibidas (Chile, prohibited images: forty years later) which is a four-episode miniseries  that show audio-visual material mainly from foreign correspondents filmed during the early days. M DLA has a personal connection with the series as her parents both are human rights lawyers connected with the original footage and the act of restoring it. 

The series has four episodes, all available on Youtube but unfortunately only in Spanish which means that JK, who would really love to see this, cannot join me in watching. It is an outstanding series. The series not only shows unedited material, but the producers also looked for the people in the original footage taken during the dictatorship and asked them to reflect on the time the events were filmed. The result is an astonishing account of different events, many of them very upsetting. For example, in the first episode, a woman called Corina tells of how her father and four brothers were taken, disappeared and how their remains were found in ‘mine ovens’. There are many stories of disappearances and people (especially mothers) looking for their loved ones. Stories of state terror, brutality of the police forces, violence and personal stories of loss, despair and heartbreak. 

Art during the pandemic

(photos from Instagram of Christina Vera Aguilar)

Christina Vera Aguilar is an interesting Chilean artist whose mother and grandfather are artists (she a painter, sculptor and writer, and he a muralist). Christina represented Chile in an international children’s art competition at the age of 9 and has been painting ever since. She lives in Concepcion and says that her art is “influenced by the natural beauty of central Chile and its Pacific coastline”. In her art, she is interested in exploring the spiritual and mystic side of the landscape and her environment. 

Next stop: China 

Thank you beautiful L for your proof reading!