Every evening at dusk, the fireflies come out and display their green flashing light show. At night the turacos and occasional tree hyrax call with their haunting voices. Then there is a gunshot, and the poachers have possibly killed another monkey or  duiker to bring to market and sell the bushmeat. During the day, we hear chainsaws, killing in minutes trees that took hundreds of years to grow. This is the present state of the rainforests in Cameroon. I am here working with a team of scientists in a race against time, to catalogue the mosquitoes and bird diseases before the rainforest is gone. We know when and where the logging will happen, so we are taking advantage of a situation we can not stop: to learn as much as possible about the pristine rainforest before it is gone.

I arrived in Douala, and witnessed the terrible traffic that people encounter every day. People use all kinds of vehicles to move around, often 3-4 on one motorcycle. The bridge out of Douala is notoriously bad, and can create havoc for hours at a time. Then the police stop us twice along the road to Buea, blatantly asking for bribes. “Happy new year” are his words, delivered with a suggestive connotation. Corruption is just accepted, as is the poverty and lack of infrastructure. In short, life is not easy in Cameroon.

At the University of Buea, the professors and students are wonderful, dedicated and excited about learning and participating in the project. This will be an opportunity for them to learn about the diversity of the rainforest, and it is the first time for some of them to camp in the jungle. We have to pack up a lot of gear, and get organized for the 10-day trip. We drive past Kumba, and it is clear that the logging trucks are a priority. The road has completely changed since I was here last in the summer of 2014. We see Chinese workers beginning to pave the road, and one of my favorite spots along the way that had a tremendous view of a river and deep forest is now a gravel mine. This is “progress”, allowing traffic to reach the interior of the forest in half the time.

Manyemen is the village nearest to our point of entry. Incredibly small children play in the street, and women openly sell the bushmeat to the truck drivers. The bar blares Afro-beat music over big loudspeakers. We spend the night here in a less-than-clean guesthouse with the incessant noise of a generator before the morning hike into the forest. My vegan diet limits my food choices; there is only rice or plantains. It will be a starchy time in Cameroon for me.

We become a village of 18 people after hiking for more than an hour from the nearest road into the forest. We carry everything; the tents, food, cooking supplies, traps for mosquitoes and nets for birds. It is the very dry season, and it won’t rain at all. Our problem is that it means that we have a very limited supply of water because the stream is not flowing. We must conserve, and drink boiled water, with the smoky sediment that grows on the tastebuds with our increasing thirst. One bucket of water each day is sufficient to clean the sweat off our bodies. The stinky clothes never dry. We are professors, students, and 4 helpers, developing a working community. We all get along and become friends living in the bush. The bees attack us the first day, and hundreds enter my tent as soon as I open the fly. When I want to bathe, I am attacked by biting ants, piercing my feet with their jaws until I run to safety. The tingle in my feet lasts a few hours, and I start to think that perhaps this could be developed as a natural alternative to acupuncture. The ants are bad, but at this time of year, the mosquitoes are not. Still somehow, I end up with a lot of itchy bites. We dance together on Saturday night, accompanied by music on a battery operated CD player.

Every morning at dawn we open the nets to catch the birds. We take a drop of blood for our molecular studies, and make blood smears for microscopy. Most common is the Fire-crested Alethe, an orange-headed squawky bird. We get a lot of olive sunbirds, and some beautiful wattle-eyes. The diversity is still high in this pristine forest, but it won’t last long. By the summer, most of this will be gone. The mosquito group works in the tent trying to learn these obscure forest insects that don’t seem to bite humans, but may feed on frogs, birds or snakes. Nighttime is my favorite, and I go to sleep early, so that I can wake up in the middle of night, and listen to the sounds. One night a poacher walks through the camp, shining his light on my tent, but then quickly departs. Our headlamps are indispensable tools, allowing us to see in this dark humid place. We don’t need much. I don’t miss the computer or the internet, the soft beds or the dry towels. I guess I truly miss fresh green vegetables, and the occasional shower would be nice.

Now, back in Buea, after a shower, I contemplate what is happening in Africa. The students’ grandparents used to see chimpanzees, elephants and numerous monkeys everywhere. Now they are gone. In their place will be palm oil plantations, to fuel our thirst for Doritos. I tell the students the fate of the passenger pigeon and how hunting truly can cause extinction. On the hike out, the chainsaws have left their visible mark, and another portion of the forest is gone. The hope lies with the young Cameroonians who are inspired by the experience and have the opportunity to institute change.

The New Year in Pretoria, South Africa, was marked by tremendous displays of private fireworks all over the city. Since it is more than 15 Rand to the dollar, everything seems cheap here. I got 6 huge fireworks, each one shooting 100 times, for about $2.25. This is the time to visit South Africa, because restaurants, movies, museums and food all are relatively cheap when thinking in dollars or Euros. It reminds me of being in Southern California, for one third the price. I saw Star Wars at a huge Imax theater, better than what we have in the USA. I must say, that I liked the original better, but that is probably because I was a kid when I saw it. Some of the mansions of Pretoria look like they could be in Beverly Hills, with 6-car garages, and massive windows overlooking golf courses in gated communities.

The Apartheid museum documents the history of oppression in South Africa. When you get your ticket, it states either “white” or “coloured” on it, and you enter the museum through different entrances, depending on your randomly assigned ticket. I got “white”, but I recognize that I would have been classified as “coloured” if I had lived in South Africa at that time. There are disturbing videos and photographs but also the optimism associated with the end of Apartheid. This is a thought provoking well-designed museum in the center of Johannesburg, and certainly worth visiting. There is certainly still racism, bit now the separation is based on economics; rich and poor.

I also got to see the Cradle of Humankind museum in Maropeng outside of Pretoria. This is the region where our ancient Australopithecus africanus ancestors were discovered. The caves in the area are still an area of active research and the Homo naledi was uncovered here recently in 2013. The museum teaches evolution effectively and has a fun boat ride through the ice age, and interactive games for children, including a talking dodo explaining extinction.

Now I am on my way to Cameroon. Flying Rwandair through the green hilled city of Kigali, and over the huge megacity of Kinshasa before crossing the mighty Congo river for a stopover in Brazzaville: finally to Douala. I will soon be in the rainforest working with Cameroonian professors and students studying the incredible diversity of birds and their diseases.

The kingdom of Lesotho has about 2 million people, but I haven’t seen many of them. This small mountainous nation is completely surrounded by South Africa, but seems worlds away. The people wear blankets, even when it is pretty warm out, and they speak in their distinct language, Sotho. In the arid mountains sheep graze, and a few cement huts seem isolated in the vast landscape. I am here doing what many South African people here do for the holidays, a road trip. The Sani Pass requires a 4-wheel drive on the South African side, and affords huge views of the jagged Drakensberg mountains. At the top is the Lesotho border, and the highest pub in Africa. It all seems very remote and it amazes me that I am suddenly in this unusual part of the world.

I celebrated Christmas with the family at Chintsa, in the Eastern Cape province of South Africa. Here it is the height of summer, so quite peculiar to have a Lithuanian traditional Christmas Eve dinner, Kučios, in such a warm climate. Clouds shrouded the full moon of Christmas, and the afternoon winds blew away the parasols on the beach.

I am reading the book “Caliban’s Shore”, about the shipwreck Grosvenor that ran aground on the shore of uncharted South Africa in 1782. The castaways tried to walk from near where I celebrated Christmas, all the way to Cape Town. Of course only a few made it. There were many elephants, hippos, hyenas and snakes populating the region at that time. The various tribes didn’t seem particularly helpful to the castaways, perhaps because they also had a hard time surviving. I always enjoy reading stories of old sailing ships of the sea. Now more than 230 years later, the animals are gone, and there are good roads, and shopping malls. I did get to see some elephants at the private Inkwenkwezi private game reserve.

We stopped in Qunu, the hometown of Nelson Mandela, to visit the museum in his honor. Sadly, it was quite lacking of information, and didn’t live up to what Mandela deserves. This is an unceremoniously sparse setting with little creativity, and obviously, little money.

I find that South Africa resembles California is many ways. The diversity of landscapes, with ocean beaches, mountains, and deserts that can all be experienced within a day’s drive. But the diversity of cultures is entirely different, especially when you enter the tiny kingdom of Lesotho.

On this solstice day, I am flying from the shortest day of the year, to the longest: from San Francisco to South Africa, with stopovers in Atlanta, and Amsterdam. It is way too many airplane hours, but allows me time to write on this blog, while sitting in Schiphol Airport.

This trip to Africa is to study deforestation and disease transmission in Cameroon. The project is funded by the USAID, and is a tremendous opportunity to work with collaborators at Buea University in Cameroon, and monitor how land use changes affect mosquitoes and malaria in real time. We will be studying avian malaria dynamics, and working in the pristine rainforest. I have been working to get this project off the ground for several years. So now, since I am traveling to Africa, it made sense to spend the holidays with my family in South Africa.

But remind me to not travel during the holiday rush season. The Delta airlines counter in San Francisco had ridiculously long lines. Even though I don’t travel First Class, I have learned to go to the First Class agents, and they usually help, even though they remind me that the line is reserved for priority passengers. At this point, when I am about to miss the flight, I believe that I am a priority passenger. They tell me to take out 2 lbs from my luggage, and I take out a little bit, just to keep them satisfied, but the weight remains the same. However, I failed majorly in the seat selection process. I will have to fly 11 hours to JNB in a middle seat in economy class. I guess I can’t write the ultimate book on “Getting what you want with Air Travel” quite yet.

I enjoy watching the mix of cultures in these big international airports. Where are all these people going? I listen for languages that are completely foreign to me. I recognize the major European languages, but today I heard some people speaking something strange, maybe it was Basque. The world seems very small, and it is getting more homogeneous every day, so I love the little surprises that remind me of the tremendous diversity that makes us human. Wishing everyone a super solstice!

Glass beach in Fort Bragg was once a garbage dump, but after many years, the bottles and ceramics have been broken down into smooth pieces of glass covering this now famous cove. The Northern California coastline in November is spectacular with sun shining on the big waves, and redwood trees soaking up the first rains of the El Niño. It is definitely worth the four-hour drive from San Francisco to get away from the crowds of Thanksgiving, and see some beautiful nature. Russian Gulch state park has the rugged coastline views and the Fern Canyon trail leads to a small struggling waterfall. Banana slugs and winter wrens add some color and sound to the misty landscape of ancient trees and ferns.   Many people spend Thanksgiving preparing big meals, watching sports and shopping. I guess as a vegan not-entirely-American, I prefer to spend the precious vacation exploring some new places. Although I have been here several times, there are always new parks, views, birds and small towns to see. I imagine what it was like before the lumberjacks arrived, when the redwood forests were vast and the land untouched. Now Mendocino has art galleries, organic cafes and a nice bookstore among the old 19^th century houses and water towers. This is a place to go slow and retire, at least for a few days.

I have now been in the USA for a few months with no need to use a passport. Here in San Francisco, I have been noticing the fast pace of people’s speech, and many common dialogues. The themes revolve around exactly what I have observed; that our lives are full, things are expensive, and people want more time. I firmly believe that it is important to sometimes take a “mental health day”, to slow down and escape. My students and colleagues are longing for the Thanksgiving holiday, but that typically involves more driving, shopping and a lot of work. But it is also a great time to get wonderful food: kiwis, persimmons and squashes are all bountiful, and there are plenty of vegan recipes to explore.

I avoid the news. Is it irresponsible these days to not be a follower of the many news outlets? The newspapers, television, internet, Facebook, blogs, Huffington Post, CNN, Al Jazeera, KPFA radio, Dagens Nyheter, Delfi… It can be overwhelming, and at this point, my understanding is that all these sound bytes stimulate the brain with short-term bursts of serotonin, which is why people want more. But then these companies profit from our non-addictive addictions. Our nanomolar brain chemicals are steering the course of the planet. The world is large and at the same time very small, but only a very small portion of the important events make it into the news. Who is to judge what is important? Would this all have been important 50 years ago, when we didn’t have immediate access to information? On the other hand, to be an aware citizen, and to interact with people in the community, we often need common experiences for human conversations. By avoiding the news, am I drifting into isolation? By writing this blog am I contributing to someone’s internet addiction?

The nature of California is calling me; the redwood trees and the powerful waves of the autumn ocean. The evenings are longer and the temperatures are lower. I often think of the indigenous peoples of California, and how they must have had tremendously developed ways to describe nature. Who knows, they may have had 20 different words describing different aspects of redwood trees. Imagine when redwood trees were the tallest things on the planet. Now we have skyscrapers; both are awe-inspiring. I will go out and do some exploring and take some California nature time this Thanksgiving.

Students often wonder what it is like to be a professor. I remember when I was a graduate student, and I saw the professors sitting in their offices all day long. In those days, before email, they were on the telephones a lot. What do they do? It turns out that they are actually really working. I am teaching three classes this semester, “Parasitology”, “Parasitology Laboratory”, and a graduate seminar class called “Environmental Impacts on Infectious Diseases”. Add to that research projects, graduate students, writing manuscripts and grants, plus departmental meetings: it adds up to a very full but varied daily schedule. Every morning, I make a list of the things that must be done that day, and mark the emails that I must answer. Then it is always interesting to see what unexpected things come up. Slowly, some of the things are checked off the lists, but you quickly learn that the work is infinite. Curious students walk in the classroom at 8 am, and I try to engage them as much as possible. The Parasitology midterm exam was definitely challenging. Here is a sample question.

A friend of yours, Francisco from Brazil, comes to see you complaining of intermittent chills and fever that have been going on for 5 days. He has lived in San Francisco for the past 10 years, and visited Brazil 9 months ago. The present illness, fever and shaking chills, began 5 days ago. Four days ago he had a normal temperature in the morning, but developed a temperature of 102° F and shaking chills in the afternoon; this subsided in the evening. Two days later he had a repeat of the episode. You order some lab tests and they show anemia, but tests for liver function were normal.   What is the name of the parasite (Genus and species) that caused his illness?

The answer is Plasmodium vivax, because it is typical case of the relapse of liver hypnozoites.

So professors learn to prioritize. Right now I am prioritizing making foods with delicious tomatoes. The dry-farmed early girl tomato season is long this year, due to the warm summer weather. Cooking with fresh vegetables insures that everything turns out tasting delicious.

My vegan chili recipe is simple: quickly fry some garlic in olive oil, add brown mushrooms, and fresh corn until slightly brown. Then add cumin, paprika, mole (from Mexico city), chipotle chili powder and some salt. Add a lot of tomatoes, dino kale and at the end kidney beans. Serve with corn bread. It always turns out great.

There are plenty of concerts and events going on in San Francisco. On Wednesday the 14^th, the Berkeley Symphony had a concert featuring a multidimensional piece entitled “Laterna Magica” by Kaija Saariaho. This included us in the wind section whispering phrases about light in German. The second bassoon part in Ravel’s Bolero simply involves playing a few notes repeatedly, with the main challenge counting measures, so it is simply fun.

Also don’t miss the performances of the San Francisco Chamber Orchestra, where admission is always free. Robin Sharp, gave a brilliant performance of Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade for violin and orchestra.

Last night, I was at the 3rdI Indian Film Festival, for a Bollywood movie, and finally, Smack Dab is an open microphone performance once a month in the Castro neighborhood where I live. You never know what to expect, and it is refreshing to see poetry and performances in this expensive city, where we consistently hear that all the artists have left. Clearly, the city is different than it was 30 years ago, but every day, there is enough going on here to fill a lifetime.

After a very successful Malaria of Wildlife workshop, what better way to spend the weekend than a visit to Washington DC. It has been rainy and chilly, but the museums are open and not crowded at this time of year. Some type of mini-hurricane is affecting the city, but I still see people of the nation’s capital jogging outside, and the tourists can never get enough of the monuments.

Gustave Caillebotte was one of the French impressionists, but not a starving destitute one, so besides creating his own works, he also collected his friends’. The exhibit at the National Gallery of Art opened my eyes to his unusual sense of perspective and diverse styles. The museum is vast and beautiful, with its interior courtyards and the marble columns and stairs. I believe, as it is with this gallery, that all museums worldwide should have free admission. Free admission encourages people to visit museums more than once, and also gives the flexibility to visit for a short time. I primarily focused on seeing this particular exhibit. Maybe our politicians of the world truly know what they are doing, and we need to have wars. But I believe that in the future, government spending will focus on protecting the environment and preserving the human condition through arts and culture.

I made my first visit to the museum of the National Archives, which houses the very faded original Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. There is also an exhibit of the Magna Carta and human rights. Most interesting to me personally was the information showing that before 1965 there were strict quotas on immigrants to the USA, and Europeans could enter this country easily, but people from China, India, and Africa could not. When my father entered the USA as a student in the late 1950’s, there were only about 100 Indians in the Bay Area. There were no Indian restaurants. It was a different world. I am one of the relatively few third culture kids, (with parents from two distinct cultures), of that generation. Only with age have I begun to understand how that has shaped my life, and I somehow relate to others that have similar multicultural backgrounds. The reality is that humans are flexible, and can adapt to new cultures very quickly, if they are allowed to.

The huge bronze statue of JFK’s head at the Kennedy Center lies at the junction of the entrances to the opera house and the symphony hall. There are computer screens that allow viewers to select videos of his lofty idealistic speeches, ranging from his initiation of the Peace Corps, to the moon landings. People have written volumes on whether the world would be better if he had survived. Can one individual politician have that much influence on humanity? I personally think not, and I always question whether there are evolutionary and genetic mechanisms underlying human deification. But it is undeniable that JFK was a charismatic speaker and delivered some great ideas. To me his bronze bust represents not a martyr, but a reminder of a different time. A time before I was born: but I am still close to people who remember him, so his history seems real. Olof Palme is the Swedish counterpart and the statue of Lincoln seems to serve the same purpose, although no one has any personal connection to Lincoln any more. Who will be the next American deity? Do they have to die to get that status? Is that why we don’t have gun laws? Interesting thoughts in my mind from this influential city.

The NCTC is in Shepherdstown, West Virginia, about 90 minutes from the Dulles Airport. Students interested in wildlife malaria have assembled from all regions of the world for this 4-day workshop. This is the third time that I have served as one of the instructors of the course, at this ideal location. There is a thick forest along the Potomac River, and plenty of insects and birds to keep us entertained. The buildings have the names of famous conservation advocates, like Rachel Carson, and I am staying in the Aldo Leopold dormitory. On the table in every room, like a conservation bible, sits Leopold’s “The River of the Mother of God”. The cafeteria has a huge salad bar, and plenty of options for all kinds of eaters, including vegans. This is the final course sponsored by the tremendously successful NSF Research Coordination Network, malariarcn.org. It is an intense workshop, with a considerable lab component, learning to identify avian blood parasites, and also theory of molecular methods. The laboratory facilities are superb, and comfortable; the ideal setting for serious learning.

Since the end of sabbatical, I have completely returned to the professor life, with a lot of lecturing, reading, writing and department meetings. As is the situation with all people working in education, we are certainly not doing this for the money. The reward is working with the students. For example, at this course, some of the students whom I met on my travels to South America and Europe, are now on their first visit to the USA. This experience will change their lives.

Now it is officially the fall, which is the best time to visit San Francisco. There have been quite a few unusually warm days, perfect for the beach. It is easy to fall into routines and habits, but I try to occasionally think of myself as a tourist, or a visitor, with fresh open eyes. To my friends: buy a ticket and come visit.

Last night upon arrival in Shepherdstown, some of us watched the super moon lunar eclipse. Here are a couple photos of the West Virginian blood moon. I have never seen anything like it before, and it was worth all the media attention. This conservation training center reminds us that we don’t need full blood moons to find the unusual beauty that is around us every day in nature.

Now back in San Francisco after a year of sabbatical, my joy is the summer fruits and tomatoes. The dry farmed “early girl” tomatoes are sweet and the small ones, with a tight skin, pop the flavor; I believe they are better than anywhere else in the world. The plums and nectarines are perfect. The harvest at the Alemany farmer’s market (the first farmer’s market in California) is extraordinary despite the drought. Here are some photos, including the purple okra, which I will soon cook with the Punjabi garam masala and recipes I brought back from Delhi.

After one week of being back in this San Francisco home, I notice that time is a remarkable concept. It now seems that I had never left. The routines come back quickly, and despite some small changes here and there, things look the same. But I do notice that this city is expensive. The housing prices are exorbitant, but I think the food prices have increased, and the restaurants seem pricy. Two apples at the corner store cost more than three dollars! Maybe I am comparing things to Vilnius, where life is still quite affordable (for visitors). I also see many homeless people, and the buses are full and inefficient. People say the traffic has gotten worse, but scootering on my Vespa, I am mostly unaffected.

The El Niño weather pattern has arrived, and we are all hoping for a wet fall and winter. Flying back, through the window of the airplane everything in California looked like a parched desert. The state is brown and cracking. Now the air is unusually humid, and even the Pacific Ocean is warm enough to wade in, 18 degrees.

Getting back to teaching is a pleasure, and my Parasitology classes are full of students with backgrounds from all over the world. The classrooms reflect the diversity that is San Francisco. Everyone fits in, yet everyone is special here in this exceptional hometown.

The summers in Northern Europe are short, and when the sun is out, and the air is warm, it is a scramble to get out and enjoy the beach. I, like most of humanity, love being in the sun near the water. In Lithuania, my favorite place is the area around Nida, with the pine forests opening up into the big sand dunes and the Baltic Sea. The Lithuanians, plus a few Germans and other Europeans “in the know” come here because of the natural beauty and the vast, spacious beaches. There are bike paths and quaint houses painted in reds or blues. The water isn’t really warm, but on a hot day, it is perfect for cooling off. If I were in Sweden, I would spend the vacation in the Skärgården archipelago, and in California, it would be the Yuba River. I have found these to be my favorite summer sun places. Soon I will be back in San Francisco, tan and ready for the new Fall semester.

A beautiful Stockholm blue moon is the last I will see before moving back to San Francisco. My sabbatical is nearly over. I have been to a lot of incredible places this year, but I am not proud of how much time my body has been in airplanes. Despite being a conscientious vegan environmentalist, my carbon footprint is very high. Here is a map of the flights I have taken over the last year; it is astonishing to me.

The roads are quiet and many restaurants are closed. Stockholm in July is void of people. A very large number of Swedes go to their summerhouses, and the month of July is sacred – allotted solely for vacations. I heard that a big El Niño will bring California a lot of rain this fall. Here in Stockholm, the hope is that the rains will stop. This summer was wet and quite chilly, but still people have exited their city lives. Many have gone to the archipelago of thousands of islands near Stockholm. The sailing boats take eager Swedes out to the water, where they hope to enjoy the sparse sun and swim in the slightly saline Baltic Sea. I would also love to have a summerhouse on one of the islands, and although I get seasick, I can even envision enjoying a sailboat. I have become completely swedified, taking on the collective dreams of the society, and at this point, I can’t imagine a culture where people actually go to work in July.

Today was the Stockholm Pride parade, and suddenly the streets were full again. It is August, and like migrant rainbow birds, they are predictably returning. They say 80,000 people participated in the parade, and 5 times that many watched. Sweden is politically correct, and freedom and human rights are core beliefs. Over my more than 20 years in this country, Stockholm has gone from provincial to powerhouse; multicultural and multidimensional. With 10 million people in the entire nation, it is less than half the size of Delhi, but despite the long vacations, this is a society that works hard, and has a high quality of life. I believe that this is how much of the world could be if there were simply fewer people on the planet. Summer days in Stockholm are rare, but full of optimism.

There are about 20 million people crowded into this city, and the traffic is simply overwhelming. Is Delhi what the megacities of the future will look like? It is the world’s most polluted city. There is trash in heaps along the sides of the roads. After the rains, people can breathe but I usually visit in the winter, when the black air covers my lungs and I start coughing after a few hours. The new metro system is one of the biggest in the world, but it is already overcrowded, with too few trains, and people pushing each other in all directions. There are simply too many cars, and people don’t follow traffic rules: chaos reigns. Among the cars are buses filled to capacity, with school buses stopping in the middle of the roads to drop off children, blocking traffic. The cows wander freely, and the incessant beeping of horns numbs the eardrums.

India has a huge number of young people who have immense potential to make change, but with corruption and the high costs of living, they appear to be sinking into a sea of cars, losing hours of their lives just getting to work, buying some food and picking up the kids. Then there is the heat and humidity…

I have a somewhat unusual perspective on this city, since I have been coming to Delhi approximately every couple years throughout my whole life. Every time I visit, it seems more choatic. I remember when I was a kid, the Qutub Minar was far away, along dusty roads. Now it is considered very central in New Delhi. The Qutub Minar is an impressively tall old tower from the 12^th century. It is now a nice park, but lacks planning for parking or the large numbers of visitors. That is a central theme of Delhi; a lack of planning: planning to control the population, planning to accommodate the traffic, planning to take care of the garbage and electricity and water. It is just a hard place to live. Without major efforts by Western cities in city planning, the path to “Delhiness” is inevitable.

But on the other hand, Delhi is a magical place, where all of humanity somehow coexists with amazingly few problems. There is never any fear of gun attacks, because it is not possible to get guns. Even among millions of people in the crowds, there is no sense of danger. Despite the traffic chaos, there is relatively little road rage. People seem to accept the fate of this place, as if it was a part of the Hindu plan for existence.

Everyone I know is gracious and helpful. People in stores are eager to sell what they have and can be pushy, but they know it is a game, and there is also a lot of smiling and friendly gestures. I have been visiting my relatives. My cousin’s wife has a new food catering service in the Faridabad area, serving delicious meals to her neighborhood. Her business is called Granny’s Kitchen. Here is the recipe for her mint chutney, which I find irresistible.

Mint Chutney

2 bunches of mint

1 bunch of coriander (cilantro)

5 green chilies (this is a spicy hot chutney)

½ inch ginger

½ teaspoon mango powder

black salt or regular salt to taste

Grind in a food processor until a thick paste.

Some birds move about in the sparse trees, and at night, the stray dogs in the neighborhood have barking frenzies. The sounds of night have remained the same throughout the years. There is a night watchman who beats his stick on the ground making a thump thump sound followed by a whistle. In the early morning, the vegetable vendors pull their carts through the streets shouting their presence with their nasal voices, as ice cream trucks used to do with bells long time ago in the USA.

Delhi will continue to grow but now that its residents travel throughout the world, they recognize that the situation can improve. The people of India will definitely shape the future. Good luck Delhi!

These are some faces of people in my neighborhood in Kalkaji, New Delhi. There are wealthy people, and poor people, all living within footsteps of each other in peace. I usually don’t put photos of people on this blog, but India is really about the humanity. There is not much beautiful nature in Delhi, but each person is an individual among the masses. I walked around and everyone was happy to pose for a photo. It is hot and rather humid, but not an unbearable heat wave. The traffic is noisy and never stops. Cars are literally everywhere and crowd the areas where there should be sidewalks. No rules apply, except the one to not run over the cows, which still walk freely around Delhi. Every time I come to India, I expect things to be more modern and advanced, but things change slowly here. The population is simply too huge. My uncle suggests that we import some Punjabi farmers to Lithuania, where there is just more space. It is not a bad idea, and I would be completely favorable to policies that open up all borders worldwide.

The food is fantastic, and at my uncle’s home, it is better than any Indian restaurant. Dals and okra, with fresh chapattis just make me happy. Shopping for Indian handicrafts seems cheaper during this summer season, due to the lack of tourists. The colors, smells, sounds and moist heat stimulate all the senses continuously. For and outing, we went to see the movie “Jurassic World” at the movie theater at Nehru Place. It is a mass of people shopping for electronics. The guards at the theater made me remove the battery from my camera, so I wouldn’t video the film. They stop the movie at the most suspenseful part, so people can get some more food. No use telling us to switch off mobile phones; no one will do it anyway. This is just a short trip but any visit to India is memorable.

The buses pull up to the Emirates Airlines flight from Stockholm to take us to the terminal. The heat-intolerant Swedes gasp as they exit the flight, and start laughing. The climate is just absurd. It is 39 degrees Celsius at 11 pm, and incredibly humid: truly like entering a sauna. The buses take us to the terminal and I quickly go through the automatic passport control, and take a taxi to the hotel next to the Dubai museum for my overnight layover.

I am in Dubai, on the way to Delhi. The Burj Khalifa was my main tourist attraction stop. I loved the space age elevators that seem like they aren’t moving at all, but are actually the fastest elevators in the world. The only way to know that you are escalating is through the sensation of popping eardrums. The view was rather hazy, and I couldn’t see the Palm Islands, but it was all pretty impressive being atop the tallest building in the world. It is like being in the airplane; almost too high to feel that the earth below is real. There were surprisingly few tourists, and the whole visit took less than one hour.

I forgot that it was Ramadan, and there were no restaurants open until 7 pm. But the food court opened at noon in the Dubai Mall. Unfortunately, not the raw vegan place, BeStro, but I found some decent Chinese tofu. Don’t try to take a sip of water, or eat some chocolate in your backpack at the Dubai mall during Ramadan: the guards stop you immediately and give you a warning.

The impressions of Dubai are pretty much what I expected. This is a land of excess, with millions of cars and taxis, and lots of chain stores. Of course it is a huge metropolis, so it is not only multinational corporations, but the humongous Dubai mall could be anywhere in the world. I would have liked to see the gold Souk, probably the biggest gold jewelry market in the world, but no time, and it is mostly closed for the holiday. Everything is air-conditioned. The whole concept of Dubai goes against environmental conservation. The shower in the hotel was one of the best I have ever experienced, with high pressure and loads of water; in the desert. Plastic bags are used indiscriminately, and there are water fountains, vast swimming pools, green lawns and golf courses. It is like an exponential Las Vegas lacking the gambling.

The prayers break out over the loudspeakers in the food court, even though the majority of people are from China or Europe and are probably not Muslim. Despite the excesses and lack of conservation values, there is something exciting about this desert city in the heat. It represents the dreams of people to show off, and get rich. The millions of people from South Asia and the Philippines working here came to make money, and get a taste of those things in the mall. It is simply the epitome of robust capitalism.

Traveling through Lithuania you see many small villages along the roads. Each has a catholic church, and a cemetery and little yellow brick houses. Things are improving a lot in this country, and there is no extreme poverty. Of course, retired people have terrible pensions, and a huge number of young people have left the country. But in general, it is a nice place to live. Families have their gardens now with flowers and budding tomatoes. Each village has a history that spans centuries, and in the forests the fairy tales nearly come to life.

My mother officially transferred her farm to me this week. This is the land that had been in her father’s family for generations, and it was the last place she saw in Lithuania before her family escaped the Soviet invasion during WWII. It is not rich soil, so we cannot grow too much; right now it is buckwheat. There is a farmer who works the land and we are grateful, because it is obligatory to use the land for agriculture. An artist lives in the 2-room farm cottage. We were impressed because he has installed some running water, and now has a toilet and shower. The outhouse is now an unused relic but the wood-burning stove is still in use for cooking. He works at a factory that makes furniture for IKEA, and enjoys the simple life in isolation. Creativity and resourcefulness characterize the transformation of this little farm near Višakio Rūda, Lithuania. I was actually envious of his lifestyle; far from traffic and airplanes, far from fancy cars and fancy bicycles, far from the crowds of multicultural cities. It is about 3 kilometers to the town, with the imposing church, where once long ago, I played the organ to accompany a wedding. There is a sacred spring with healing waters near the old cemetery where we visited the grave of my great grandparents. I now have the true option of being a farmer and retiring in the place of my ancestors.

Yesterday the American Chamber of Commerce held the annual Independence Day picnic and celebration in Vilnius. They had traditional hamburgers and a table of over 100 hot dogs in a row, for the Lithuanian world record. There was a band, and balloons and fireworks. The USA armed forces are showing their presence in Lithuania and they are extremely welcome here. The speakers all praised the US army and said they want more troops here. I have heard the opinions about Putin now from both sides, Russia and Lithuania, and there certainly is a lot of propaganda.

But I was thinking about who really has the power these days. Is it really Putin and Obama and the other leaders of the world’s nations? I actually think it is the people who run Google and Facebook and Twitter and Apple…; all based in the San Francisco area. These young computer tech people are the ones that control what buttons we push, and our access to information. They have a subtle mind control system that has perhaps never been experienced in the history of the world. In my mind, I think it is somewhat amazing/frightening to know that the patterns of public connection rely on a bunch of young guys in San Francisco. They live in Mountain View and the Mission and eat at ethnic restaurants from countries that few of them will ever visit, but where their influence is rather profound.

Here are a couple photos of the July full moon, one from Stockholm and one from the Vilnius airport. I am essentially living in both places these days, because flights are cheap. Summer is the time of vacation, and basically all scientists here have gone on holidays. I have one more trip planned, but soon I will be back in the neighborhood in San Francisco, where I will encourage the young hipsters to take sabbaticals and meet people around the world.

The longest day of the year has passed and from now on the days will slowly grow shorter. In Sweden people are still waiting for some warmth of summer. Here are some photos from the Midsommar holiday in Sweden. The traditions are strong but rather homogenized with families around the whole country making the midsummer poles and dancing around them. I wonder how this tradition became the dominant one and what other traditions may have died out. This year was particularly rainy, but still fun with children tying flowers onto the pole and then dancing around them like frogs.

Öland is a very long thin island separated from the mainland of Sweden by the bridge from Kalmar. Kalmar is dominated by a castle where a treaty was signed in 1397 to unite the Norwegian, Swedish and Danish kingdoms. This union lasted officially until 1523. This Midsommar was my first visit to this very popular Swedish tourist destination. The southern part of Öland is a UNESCO heritage site with quaint villages surrounded by pastures and the Baltic Sea. At the southern tip of the island is the Ottenby ornithological station, and a picturesque lighthouse. The sunset at 10 pm on the solstice day was stunning. But apparently a lot of people had the same idea to spend Midsommar on the island: I have never seen a traffic jam like that in Sweden going home over the bridge.

No more traveling for a while, and I am focusing on getting some writing done. I have heard similar things from professors on sabbatical: procrastination is inevitable.

After catching some birds in the morning, I left the Kaliningrad village of Rybachy, flew to Saint Petersburg, and heard a concert of Mussorgsky and Mahler that night. It is an incredible European city; in my opinion on the same world level as Paris, Rome or London. It seems that a lot of people create top 10 lists these days. Here is mine for visiting St. Petersburg:

1: The Hermitage Museum: This museum can only be called “grand”. It is opulent and huge and definitely worth getting the visa for Russia. I was there for an entire day, and just got a taste of the vastness. Each room could be a museum in itself. The paintings by Rembrandt are well known. But new to me was all the wealth exhibited in the Diamond Treasury. There is a serving set for Catherine the Great made of 45 kilos of pure gold. There is a horse saddle with 16,000 diamonds. I also liked seeing the ancient Siberian items, and one of the first known carpets from more than 2000 years ago. The museum goes on and on with each room full of baroque extravagance. This is definitely now one of my favorite museums in the world.

2: The Mariinsky Ballet: This city is fanatical about ballet, like Brazilians are about football or some Americans about baseball. I saw a performance at the beautiful Mariinsky Theater, featuring their top 3 male dancers. The audience went wild. It was some of the best ballet dancing I have seen. This is the place where Baryshnikov, Nijinsky and Nureyev came from. The next big names to watch out for are Igor Kolb, Danila Korsuntsev and Yevgeny Ivanchenko. I also saw an impressive orchestra concert at the new Mariinsky 2 sister theater.

3: White nights: It doesn’t get dark in June. Nobody seems to sleep, and the city is full of life late into the night. Last night, after the ballet ended at 11 pm, I walked through the parks, and heard street musicians, and saw thousands of locals just enjoying the evening.

3: Not many tourists: Yes, there are a lot of tourists, but seemingly few from Western Europe and the USA. I saw plenty from China, Japan and India, but the majority of tourists are Russian. Russian politics with Putin in charge can be dreadful, but the Russian people that I met are welcoming to tourists. My opinion is that we should foster more cross-cultural exchange and promote openness. Instead of blockades and sanctions, I think that the governments of the world should promote mandatory student exchange programs. It is strange that I see more Americans in Vilnius than St. Petersburg.

4: St. Petersburg is not expensive: I am staying at very Russian hotel right near the Hermitage Winter Palace, and it is less than $38 USD a night. I wouldn’t recommend it: the bedbugs are a real bummer. But there are deals and this is peak season right now. Restaurants are cheap compared to Western Europe. Taxis are about $6 to go anywhere in the central part of the city. The Russian ruble has collapsed, which makes it hard for the Russians to travel, but it is a great time for people with Euros or especially US Dollars.

5: Vegan St. Petersburg: I have found some great vegetarian/vegan places to eat here. The Happy Cow website is my indispensable travel companion. My favorite was a little apartment where a friendly guy named Fadi makes fresh falafel. It is very hard to find, because it is basically not a restaurant but a private “hang out space”. Address is Dumskaya 5/22 flat 68. The falafel was delicious and the adorable kitty will sit on your lap while your eating. I also liked the vegan buffets at Rada and K, and Samadeva. It is easy to be vegan here.

6: Peterhof – the Great Summer Palace: The hydrofoil costs 1250 Rubles ($23) round trip and it is definitely worth it for the speedy 40 minute trip to see the extravagant fountains at Peterhof. This was all destroyed during WWII, but now it is fully restored and enticing to the swarms of Russian tourists. I now understand much more about Russian history: I would have certainly revolted and joined the Bolsheviks had I lived in Russia in the early part of the 20^th century. The extravagance of the Czars is just unreal. My concern is that now in the 21^st century, the income disparities throughout the world are again widening to such a point that it may be time for another revolution.

7: Many more museums: I also enjoyed the Russian Museum full of landscapes, portraits and huge romantic paintings. The Erarta museum of modern art is a little harder to get to, but worth seeing what is going on in contemporary Russian art today. The interior of the Church on the Spilled blood is magnificent with its many mosaic Jesuses. There are dozens of museums to choose from.

8: The inherent beauty of the city: The city is built on rivers and canals, and the architecture is bold and striking. The buildings could use some touch up paint in most cases, but this adds to the charm. The huge Soviet cement block apartments are in the suburbs. Despite being relatively young, inaugurated in the early 1700’s, this city has had its share of world history.

9: Public transportation: The metro is fun and fast. I like how on the V3 Green line, the subway doors open up behind walls, so each compartment is like a showcase. The escalators go very very deep and sometimes the escalator ride takes longer than the train ride. It is a cheap and fast way to get around the city. Buses are great too. I am sure there are traffic jams, but this is a very walkable city.

10: Smiling friendly Russians: The Lonely Planet book states “It is not unusual for foreigners to find Russians quite brusque and even unfriendly”. I don’t speak Russian, but everywhere I have been, be it on the bus, at the museums, in restaurants or walking around, the people have smiled to me and whenever they know a little English, they are eager to talk. Definitely friendly.

Don’t worry, I won’t be defecting to Russia any time soon, but I find that St. Petersburg is surprisingly wonderful.

The trees, flowers, birds and sea look the same on both sides of the border, but it certainly takes some effort to get to the Russian side. Now I am at the Rybachy Biological Research Station, one of the oldest and best-known ornithological laboratories in the world.

It is about a 4-hour drive from Vilnius to Klaipėda, on a fast highway that directly crosses the country. Then it is a short boat ride to Neringa and the Kuršių Nerijos national park. Another 40 minutes south past Lithuanian resort villages gets us to the Russian border. I had the visa so that was no problem, but for some unexplained reason, they seem to hold Lithuanian cars at the border. One Lithuanian guy was there already for 4 hours, and he had once been held up for 22 hours. He said that the Latvian and Polish cars have no problems getting through, and he blamed it on the Lithuanian president Grybauskaitė, who has soured relations between the two countries. We waited about 2 hours before they finally, unexplainably, let us through. In the meantime, I started taking some photos, and one guard was certainly happy to let me take photos of Audrey, the patrol dog. But another border guard was not so supportive of my photo essay, and made me erase my pictures. I erased one, but not all of them, and he was fine with that. The laws all seem very arbitrary. So here are some rare photos of the border between Lithuania and Russia on the Curonian Spit.

The nature is beautiful on this strip of land sandwiched between the waters of the Baltic Sea. Pine trees and sand dunes, spring flowers and specks of amber next to the shells on the beach.

This morning I got to witness a project studying Pied flycatchers and their nest boxes. Scientists have long term tracking data of these birds, and also their blood parasites, like malaria. The station is famous for its huge Rybachy traps, where the birds fly into a huge net and are funneled into a small opening at the end. They catch and band up to 100,000 birds some years.

A birthday party in Russia: lots of food on the table, much of it that we brought from Lithuania. Friendly warm spirited toasts in Russian around the table, and I learned that the third toast is to the parents, for creating the person we celebrate. Generous friendly happy scientists in Russia welcome me as if I belong here and should plan to work here for many more years.