Tags Posts tagged with "USA"

USA

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Bryan Sereny/Flickr

Did you know that only 28% of Greater Miami’s residents speak English at home? Miami being a Spanish-speaking city isn’t just a myth. Everyone jokes about needing a passport to visit Miami and that the city’s first language is Spanish. But it’s not just a joke; in Miami, more people speak Spanish than English. According to data compiled in 2010 by the Modern Language Association, of Miami-Dade County, Florida’s 2.3 million residents over the age of five, only 28% – around 644,000 – speak English as a first language at home. Spanish ranks Number One, at 1.5 million speakers, or roughly 64% of the overall population of the county (over five years of age, that is). Haitian Creole, Haiti’s official language along with French, comes in third at almost 97,000 speakers, or a scant 4.2% of the over-five population, while French and Portuguese round out the top five, with less than 1% each.

Reflecting the demographic make-up of the region, Miami-Dade County has three official languages – English, Spanish, and Haitian Creole – in which all county documentation, from voting registration forms to court summons to school board notices, must be printed. While more obvious reasons for the shifting of Miami’s primary language from English to Spanish over the second half of the 20th century and into the 21st include economic and political instability throughout the Caribbean and Latin America, many of the people who lamenting the decline of English forget that the name Florida itself is a Spanish word meaning “florid” or “flowery.” That’s not all; the name Miami is derived from that of the Mayaimi Indians who lived around nearby Lake Okeechobee when the Europeans first arrived. The Mayaimi’s linguistic cousins, the Tequestas, lived in what is now Miami and they didn’t speak English at home either.

That said, add a little bit of instrumentation to all these languages and you’ve got the incredible mash-up of the Miami music scene. Salsa, samba, soca, and every riddim in between thumps out of open car windows and on nightclub dance floors. So while you may have to speak Spanish to that gas station attendant (diez en la doce means “$10 on pump 12”), you’ll also get to work on your reggaeton moves as you pump.

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In Maine, in late summer, the cool breezes off the sapphire-blue Atlantic temper the warmth of a pale sun, the air free of the asphyxiating humidity of more southerly latitudes. Despite being a son of the South, and tethered naturally to the cultures and climates therein, I always find myself drawn to the northern parts of the globe in summer.

Maybe it’s some sort of symbolic retracing of the Great Migration, seeking respite ‘neath the warmth of other suns. Whatever the rhyme or the reason, my two days in Portland, largest city in Maine, proved invigorating and refreshing, not unlike a good breath mint.

maine1895I joined my good pal of 18 years (!), Rod, at his family’s summer cottage (!), driving around, scandalizing the locals with our belly laughs, watching movies, discovering music, frying chicken (!), and playing the dozens between doling out unsolicited advice as good friends are wont to do.

I returned to Florida having pinned a new city on my travel map and with fond memories of my two days in Maine. When a place stays with you, that’s magic.

Have a look at some of the sights and listen to some of the sounds I encountered in the great state of Maine:

Cape Elizabeth Maine Porches in Portland Portland City HallAtlantic Ocean at Cape Elizabeth Maine Enchanted Forest Maine

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Me and Rod squinting into the sun because the light is better. #TeamOver35



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Arguably America’s must beautiful city, San Francisco has long lured travelers with its stunning scenery, fresh air, striking bridges, and – as these vintage travel posters indicate – the exotic delights of Chinatown. While the themes may be repetitive in this modest compendium, the charms of the City by the Bay never get old. When you go, don’t forget that flower.

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“No free negro shall come, reside in, or be within this state… [T]he legislature shall provide by penal law for the removal of all such negroes and their exclusion from the State.” -Oregon State Constitution, 1857-1926

Lufthansa A380 at MIA. Photo courtesy of Aero Icarus via Flickr.
Lufthansa A380 from Frankfurt landing at MIA

Despite its setting amid a flat, wildly sprawling car-topia, Miami International Airport is an aviation geek’s dream. Airliners from places as far away as Moscow and Buenos Aires or as close as Key West and Nassau, cargo planes all the way from China, the Airbus A380 – the world’s largest passenger aircraft – riding heavy over Biscayne Bay on its way across the Atlantic; if you look in the sky long enough, you’ll see it all. And unlike most big-city airports relegated to the boondocks, MIA is right in the heart of town.

TAM departing for Brazil
TAM departing for Brazil

Vantage points are everywhere: you can catch the afternoon arrivals from Europe at the LA Fitness on Northwest 12th Street, the planes so low you can almost touch them – Iberia, Alitalia, Virgin, Swiss, and British all in a row. Commuters on the Dolphin Expressway course alongside the south runway, sometimes racing TAM to Brazil, LAN to Chile, or Copa to Panama. Delta and United and Avianca and TACA and FedEx and UPS skirt the towers of downtown Miami throughout the day. But all-day, everyday, it’s American – old American, new American, big American, small American – it could be to Tallahassee or Tegucigalpa, somebody’s going somewhere on American.

AA dominates MIA
AA dominates MIA. They’ve been slow at repainting with the new logo.

Nearby Fort Lauderdale might have the most dramatic landings in the region, jets just barely missing the tops of the semis speeding up and down I-95. But Miami’s got the most diverse range of aircraft, airlines, landing patterns, and striking silhouettes of any city I’ve ever lived in.

Swiss airliner at MIA
Swiss prepping for the return to Zurich

So if you’re driving past the airport and see someone creeping along on the expressway at 5 miles an hour trying to snap a shot of a departing AirBerlin jet on their phone, it’s probably me. I really have to stop that; it’s just not safe.

Terminal J at MIA from Dolphin Expressway
Terminal J at MIA from Dolphin Expressway

Oh…and is anybody else but me excited that Qatar Airways will be flying here come next June?! Nobody? Bueller?

Please don’t forget to follow me on Twitter @FlyBrother, and “like” me on Facebook! You can subscribe, too! ;-)

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On November 19, 1962, an Eastern Airlines flight from Newark arrived and pulled up to your iconic Space Age terminal, replete with those infernal yet endearing “mobile lounges,” and a new era in Washington’s aviation history began.

Originally built to relieve tiny, overcrowded National Airport and named for President Eisenhower’s Secretary of State (that’d be John Foster Dulles), you were seen as a boondoggle, a waste of money, a “white elephant” because you were out in East Upper Buttcrack, Virginia, and no one in their right mind wanted to traipse that far away from civilization to catch a flight. But development grew towards you and time and politics have allowed you to flourish and become the international gateway to our capital city.

You were the first American airport to host the Concorde, the Boeing 747, and the Boeing 777 in commercial service. You have surpassed National Airport in passenger traffic, with more than 23 million travelers passing through you every year.

I have flown through you 45 times, on Air France, Air Tran, British Airways, American, United, Delta, and Independence Air. And though your security lines are ridiculously long and your concourses ridiculously cramped (and low-ceilinged), the airline geek in me still gets excited when it catches a glimpse of the mid-century modern styling and sleek, timeless terminal building.

Happy 50th Birthday, Dulles Airport!

Images by theqspeaks, Pierre Metivier, and Jennuine Captures.

Please don’t forget to follow me on Twitter @FlyBrother, and “like” me on Facebook! You can subscribe, too! ;-)

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You get off a 10-hour red-eye from Rio, tired and cranky and just ready to get home, and upon arrival into JFK, you realize you’re stuck in the Immigration line behind passengers coming in from Dubai, Buenos Aires, and Tokyo all at the same time. You’ve got two options: 1) Wait an hour in line with the other poor souls while the immigration officer triple-checks and fingerprints a permanent resident with shaky English and three rambunctious children, or 2) Breeze right past the whole lot of ’em after a quickie automated entry procedure. Give me option #2!

That quickie automated entry procedure is called Global Entry, an expedited immigration program for US citizens who travel frequently and have gotten tired of long lines at Immigration when returning home. I travel a lot, and I’d seen the kiosks, but I remained skeptical. The application fee is $100, which you don’t get back if you’re not approved, and the whole keeping my prints on file and other Big Brother-type governmental intrusion into my life—fuggedaboutit. Besides, I’ve been living abroad for the last seven years, my passport had been stolen once before, and the replacement misspelled my name, so I figured my chances of being approved were slim-to-none. Y’all ain’t keeping my $100.

Hmmm, I don’t know.

Well, my hunch is that someone must have started trying to use the stolen passport, because the immigration officers’ questions started getting funnier and funnier each time I came into the States, and I ain’t talking ha-ha funny either. Eventually, two immigration officers in a row told me, forcefully, “you need to get Global Entry.” So I scraped up my pennies and applied online. The application didn’t ask for any more information than would a potential employer with even the remotest security requirements (like an airline or bank), and the only hassle for me was trying to remember previous overseas addresses.

After a few days, my application was pre-approved and I was asked to schedule an interview within the next 30 days at one of at least 20 different airport locations. It was even easy to reschedule the interview when my travel plans changed, so the convenience factor is a plus. Once back in the States (the immigration officer looked at my record on screen and stamped me in, no questions asked—no “Welcome Home” either, but I rarely ever get that from our taxpayer-funded national gatekeepers), the interview lasted about ten minutes and consisted mostly of me verifying my whereabouts for the last five years (no use trying to be evasive—they already know where you’ve been, and how much private information have you already given up to Facebook, anyway?). The fingerprint scan and brief kiosk tutorial followed, and I was on my way.

No, that’s not me.

The only thing I can say about Global Entry since using it is that I can feel people staring laser beams into the back of my head when they see me at the kiosk one minute, then walking towards Customs the next. As I usually don’t check bags, I’m already headed towards my connecting flight or into town while the first set of folks is still being asked about how much crap they brought back from Germany. Skipping the Immigration line (and the often surly immigration officers) is well worth the $100—and I’m cheap!

I’m Fly Brother, and I recommend Global Entry*.

*No, they didn’t pay me to say this, but they should!

Please don’t forget to follow me on Twitter @FlyBrother, and “like” me on Facebook! You can subscribe, too! ;-)

In an effort to see as many friends in New York as possible during Fly Brother Week, while simultaneously attempting to keep expenditures down to a bare minimum, I challenged some of my local peeps to take me to their favorite place for food and drink costing $10 or less. Several of my friends met the challenge handily, unveiling their neighborhood faves, serving up engaging convo, and helping me fill my belly at the same time. Here’s some of the highlights.


* Salacious Southern gul Uche of Hip Hop is for Lovers invited me to The Meatball Shop in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. I had the succulent, spicy pork balls with creamy Parmesan sauce over pickled veggie salad for $9. Then I cheated and ordered a $2 cream soda, which tipped the scale over the price ceiling, especially with tax and tip. Stick with the free tap water if you want to stay on budget.


* Budding film producer and college classmate CJ of The Dream Factory Productions lured me over to the far end of Restaurant Row, near Times Square at 46th and 9th, with the promise of cheap and tasty Thai at Yum Yum Bangkok. Lunch portions of salad and beef Panang, with a Thai iced tea, clocked in at under $8 including tax.


* Another college bud and fellow Floridian, Amery (who doesn’t blog), took me to Café Au Bon Goût (276 5th Ave) near his job in Koreatown. Among the ample salad and hot food bars stocked full of tummy-filling goodness, I had a half rotisserie chicken, heapin’ helpins of veggies and sweet potatoes, and a canned soda for $6.35. That’s good eatin’.


* Art enthusiast and uptown girl Jenna of hrlm guide (and other endeavors) quickly whisked me up to Harlem on the A Train, where after bandying several options about, we settled on Doug E.’s (yes, as in Fresh, located at 2245 Adam Clayton Powell Blvd.) for chicken wings and fries, pretty much the only thing on the menu not over $10. I did indeed lick my fingers.

* Connecticut Yankee and former rowing coach (in fact, my former rowing coach), Adam of 3 Chords & the Truth enticed me with a thick, juicy, succulent, meaty, off-the-hook burger and sweet potato fries at Black Shack Burger in Murray Hill. There’s no picture of the food because, well, I forgot my camera, so you also get an old photo of me and Coach.


* Journalist and fly sister Stacy had me braving the student throngs of the East Village to dine at Mud, where I had a tasty half-an-egg-salad sandwich and salad. Needless to say, I was hungry shortly thereafter, but the intellectual sustenance I acquired during my conversation with Stacy tided me over until I was able to grab a slice uptown. 😉


* But the coup de grace of the whole shebang came from Bronx-native Brian (you rock, son!) of No Debt World Travel. This fool took me to Prosperity Dumpling in Chinatown, where I had ten scrumdiddlyumptious—and filling—lightly fried pork dumplings for TOO DOLLAZ! An older Chinese lady apparently affiliated with the joint insisted that I return the next day for more, especially since they’d been given an A rating by the city health department. Don’t worry, ma’am; I’ll be back soon. Shouts to Cat for gracing us with her effusive presence.

Stay tuned for Good Food in NYC for $10 or Less, Vol. 2, which will be posted in a few weeks, immediately following my next sojourn to Gotham.

Please don’t forget to follow me on Twitter @FlyBrother, and “like” me on Facebook! You can subscribe, too! ;-)

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In commemoration of my recent weekend in The City, VTP (Vintage Travel Posters) is back with a few artistic flights of fancy that enticed travelers from the world over to spend a weekend in … The City!









If you liked these, check out VTP India, Rio, and Paris!

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This weekend, I popped over to San Francisco on business and caught a bit of the city’s kinda underwhelming Cinco de Mayo celebration at Dolores Park (I think there was a ban on alcohol at the event. While I’m no drinker, I do concede the libation’s role as social lubricant and crowd loosener-upper). The standout presentation was the traditional Mexican dance company Ensambles Ballet Folklórico de San Francisco, which gave an impressive performance of the various regional dances of Mexico.

Here’s a brief clip: