35,000 Dobras

By Beth

“35,000 dobras????”  Kilson looks at me in disgust. “Can you believe that?”

I'm out getting beers with Kilson and his cousin and they are in absolute shock over the check. The beers at this restaurant in the small oceanside city of Pantufo, in São Tomé, are almost three times the cost of other areas- they ring up for 35,000 dobras each, or a whopping $2.50. I smile, saying nothing. It's not that things are always much cheaper here- they aren't always. But they are most of the time. In the USA where prices are stacked higher and higher in order to benefit the many people who work within the production chain, here in São Tomé things are priced only slightly higher than the cost for which they are purchased or produced. There is little profit. I noticed that when I was living in Portugal, too- you could buy a loaf of bread there for less than 0.50 EUR, when loaves of bread in the USA are $2 or $3 at the very least. But here the prices are even lower.

Well, like, I said, most of the time.

I learned the hard way to bring more clothes- especially clothes for going out- the next time I come back to São Tomé. A simple cotton dress, one of those light summery pieces with little flavor or design that you can pick up at any K-Mart for less than $10, retail here for about 400,000 dobras, or $26. And those are the cheapest dresses I could find.

Imported African wax print, 30,000 Dobras, or $2, per meter

If you want something that actually looks nice, Kilson's mom owns a store in town. The dresses there, something I could pick up at TJ Maxx for $20, cost about 2 million dobras, or $125. Something so shocking I now understand why so many of the poorer women in town wear pieces of fabric tied around their waist- because it's so expensive to do anything else!

You can buy a cerveja nacional, or the locally produced beer, for 10,000 dobras, or about $0.70. For 10,000 dobras you can also buy:

A taxi ride anywhere in the city, provided you don't mind sharing with a car-full of people, which is how they do it here.

A patching on your motorcycle tire and filling of air, which I learned the hard way- but if you're with Kilson, because he knows everyone in town, that's free.

Two cinnamon bun-type pastries at the local padaria

Ten pieces of chewing gum or five lollipops (that are equivalent to Blow-Pops, with gum in the center)
A one-scoop ice cream cone (though let me tell you, the ice cream culture here is depressing)

Palm wine I think we spent about 25,000 Dobras on for a three-gallon jug

For 30,000 dobras, or about $2.10, you can get order a conch appetizer at a restaurant, or about eight small espetadas (shish kabobs). You can successfully eat a filling dinner at a restaurant, consisting of two cervejas nacionais, an appetizer, two entrees and two coffees for about 180,000 dobras, for $12.
Which is why Kilson almost shrieked with delight when, on my last night here, I was paid for teaching the English classes that I thought I was doing for free, leaving us with about 400,000 dobras to spend in one night (because who cares about saving, really?). “We can do ANYTHING,” he said to me with a smile. That night we ate like kings.

"I'm a Jelly Donut" and Other Berlin Adventures

By Megan

Berlin was so good to me- from the funky hostel (see my previous hosteling post) to the bicycle tour, hippos at the zoo, and of course the Tiergarten.  My faithful travel bud and I organized a jaunt north starting in Berlin; the plan was to start in the famous capital, then work our way down to Vienna.

Germany was an entirely new concept to both of us.  All we could say was Gesundheit, küsse, and 'I speak English', even worse than our Italian, but we had few communication difficulties.

I was excited as a five-year-old as we headed toward the zoo, and furthermore, I was equipped with a camera and the know-how to use it.  The hippos were comical, the rhino quite serious, the giraffes awkward, and Knut the famous polar bear was in isolation (it seems that the more famous you are, the less likely you are to play well with others... just saying).  I actually didn't expect to enjoy/exhaust myself as much as I did running around the zoo.  In any case, a triumphant evening at a bier garden was in store.  They didn't have any vegetarian brats, but the baked potato was delicious and the Berliner Weisse (beer with raspberry syrup added) would have won over even the most serious of beer aficionados.

The infamous wall

With a desire for speed, we decided to take a bike tour of the city and got to the Fat Tire tour station early.  There was a Spanish tour available, but we decided to wait and see how full the English tour was- 70 or so other riders later, we went with the more intimate tour in Spanish, which included just me, my bud and our Valenciana tour guide.  She showed us all of the city's most famous sites, and via bike was a lovely way to see so much history in such a short amount of time.
Something from the tour that struck me much so was Bebelplatz; it's a memorial to a Nazi book burning that took place.  A piece of glass allows visitors to look down on empty shelves, representing the loss of understanding and knowledge.  "He who burns a book is capable of killing another."  It's a strong statement, but the idea is that by burning a book, you lose the knowledge of the book, effectively killing the right of someone who wants to learn.

Bier Garten? Yes, bitte.

After a long day of bike riding, we decided to relax in the MASSIVE Tiergarten and we weren't alone.  Our wonderful guide told us that public nudity was allowed in some parts of the gigantic park, but who would have thought that the two of us would end up smack-dab in naked central.  At least two gentleman visited the park seeking to catch some rays sunny side up.

It was time for us to move on to Dresden, but one more note- Ich bin ein Berliner- the famous quote, did not make JFK  a supporter of Berlin, but rather, a jelly-donut... and people still chuckle at the grammar mistake 40+ years later.

Midwest Adventures- Milwaukee

By Megan

Milwaukee- land of Solomon Juneau, the self-proclaimed first white guy spotted in the area; Leif the Discoverer of Iceland, and of course, a town synonymous with beer.  It seemed ever-so-close to Chicago (my current stomping grounds) and therefore warranted a visit on an early-fall Saturday.  So, my travel bud  and I hopped on a Megabus and drifted our way up to the state up north with dreams of strong brews and delicious cheese.

The first stop was the Milwaukee Public Market located in the posh Third Ward.  It seemed to call out to picnic provisioners and lost souls alike, so we crossed over the bridge and landed smack dab in what my version of shoppers heaven might look like.  I grabbed first for some nutmeg nuts to grind fresh, feeding a recent baking addiction.  And while paying for my delicious treasure, I quickly realized that it was the cleanest market I had ever visited.  Unlike Barcelona's Boqueria, the floor was spotless.  There were few, if any, identifiable tourists and I didn't fear for the life of my purse.

It didn't even smell like a market, but I was soon distracted by a quiet gentleman who helped us pick out a cheddar (a test of the five-year cheddar taught me that I wasn't ready for that degree of sharpness) and a local muenster, known as the world's best sandwich cheese (pretty damn good when eaten with raisins too, just so you know).  A fresh loaf of bread and some award winning fire-brewed (whatever that means) root beer later, and our indoor picnic was set.

We stowed the leftovers for later and set out to explore the city on foot.  Neither of us were too interested in seeing the Warhol exhibit at the museum, but I heard the museum structure itself was worth the hike.  It was one of the most literal translations of a boat onto an architectural structure that I have ever seen, except the 'hull' was made up of windows over looking Lake Michigan.

It was early afternoon at this point, and the sun called for a nap in the park next to the art museum, so we obeyed. Finally, it was time to get down to business and grab a brewsky.  I paired a Rocky's Revenge (Nut Brown Ale) with mac' n' cheese, and my bud had a famous Spotted Cow.  At the brat eating contest, I lamented the absence of my camera while teams of four scarfed down bun and dogs as fast as possible.  Quote from a contestant, "Yeah baby!  That's how you eat a brat!"- insert loud frat boy voice here, please.

Brewsky number two was a Furthermore's Fatty Bombalatty which I enjoyed with even more cheese, which I knew was a lot of cheese, but was seemed worth it- especially since I don't know when I'll be back next .  The bus ride back to Chicago was uneventful, except for the stomach ache.  All-in-all, Milwaukee made for the perfect escape form the city, which I would highly recommend, especially the cheese over indulgence.