Text: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Photos: Francisco Collazo

*hint: You don’t want the oceanfront view.

This time last week, we were forcing ourselves to get out of the insanely comfortable bed in Room 1101 of the Marriott in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

I’ll confess that when we checked in and found ourselves on the street-facing side of the hotel tower (even on the 11th floor), we were a bit disappointed.

“The least they could have done was give us the ocean view,” Francisco joked.

As we toured around the hotel and asked to see different rooms– the larger Cabana suites (which mean pool-front) that actually looked smaller than our room despite a few extra square feet of space; a penthouse spread; a room with the coveted ocean view–we realized that choosing a hotel room can be a complex decision.

The factors you should consider when choosing a hotel room may be unclear, especially if you’re a moderate or budget traveler more accustomed to staying in hostels or inns than chain hotels. But they can be sorted into a few general categories: view, space, amenities, and cost. The simplified formula looks something like this:

better view + more space (even if it’s just 3 sq. ft.) + more amenities = higher cost.

But keep this in mind:

better view + more space + more amenities does not always = better experience.

Especially when you know you paid more for it.

The Cabana suites may have been bigger in terms of square feet (”Really? Are you sure?” I asked the front desk agent), but they felt smaller than Room 1101. The penthouse may have had more amenities, but I was more than happy with the orange ginger shampoo and conditioner from Bath and Body Works (as a budget traveler, you don’t have to offer me many amenities to make me happy). Those extra amenities in the penthouse were things I weren’t likely to use anyway.

And the room with the ocean view? Well, it was humid.

The entire ocean facing side of the hotel had the same feel, impossible to eliminate, even with the most sophisticated climate control system. The sliding glass doors of the ocean-facing rooms were perpetually going to be covered with a salty film, no matter how many times the attentive and polite staff cleaned them.

The street facing room WAS the best… and it was the cheapest, too! It got more natural light (the sun sets over the ocean, meaning the ocean facing rooms get lots of natural light only in the afternoon). It felt the most spacious even if it really wasn’t. And the amenities were just fine. At a savings of $25-$50 a day, the street-facing room would have saved a significant chunk of change for a weekend stay.
*

So how can you take this experience and choose a hotel room that’s right for you?

1. Visit the hotel’s website and read about its rooms.
The San Juan Marriott, for example, has a detailed guest room page on its website. The page lists all the amenities that are standard for any room, and indicates that certain amenities may vary by room type… which should lead you to ask the question: What are the room types?

2. Take a virtual tour. Most hotels worth your money will have a virtual tour or photo gallery on their website. After all, the product they’re selling you is a room. The San Juan Marriott’s website has a photo tour that includes different types of rooms, the public areas of the property, and even the surrounding neighborhood. It even has 360^ photos. Be suspicious of a site that doesn’t provide you with photos of the hotel’s rooms.

3. Read reviews. While you should take other travelers’ reviews with a liberal grain (or whole shaker) of salt, the property reviews on sites like TripAdvisor can give you a better idea of what you should look for in a room and what you should avoid. Consistently favorable reviews mean that even the most picky travelers have found the property pleasing. And the presence of responses from hotel management shows that they care about the impressions their guests go home with and their willingness to resolve any problems… even the ones guests don’t raise on site and only complain about once they get home.

4. Call the hotel. Once you know what your options are, call the hotel and ask for prices for each of the room types. While you may ultimately choose to book your room through an online aggregator like Expedia or Orbitz, calling the hotel for current prices will help you get an idea of what your options are and whether you’re getting a deal. Talking with hotel staff will also give you an advantage that the aggregator sites won’t: you’ll be able to find out whether rooms have been renovated recently or whether the hotel itself is offering any last minute deals.

How do you choose a hotel room? Share your tips below!

Text & Photos: Julie Schwietert Collazo

If you’d have asked me two months ago whether I agreed that we should close Guantanamo, I would have said “Yes!” without thinking. Like many Americans and citizens of the world, I viewed the US naval base and detention facility at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba as a symbol of everything that’s wrong with the current administration and its foreign policy and defense decisions.

I probably knew more about Guantanamo than your ordinary American. I knew that the base was booty my country acquired (or commandeered) in 1898 at the end of the Spanish-American War. I knew it was the oldest US naval base outside the continental US. I knew about the treaty governing the base’s perpetual lease, that it had temporarily housed both Cuban and Haitian refugees in the mid 1990s, and that Fidel Castro has allegedly never cashed any of the annual $4,085 checks the US drafts to pay rent on this patch of land in southeast Cuba.

I also knew that Guantanamo–American shorthand for the base–is actually a town in Cuba, a dusty, desert town where 30 year olds look a good 20 years older.

Like most Americans, I also knew that my government had used Guantanamo Bay as a legal black hole in the global War on Terror, converting facilities on the base into housing for “detainees” who are considered to be dangerous “enemy combatants,” and, at one point, using those facilities to conduct “interrogations” in which activities like waterboarding, hooding, and extreme sensory deprivation raised questions about what torture really is and whether “civilized” Americans would use it as a policy instrument.

So would I have said “Close Guantanamo” two months ago?

Yes.

Without hesitation.

But then I went there.
*
President-elect Barack Obama, for whom I voted and who I support unequivocally, has articulated his commitment to close Guantanamo Bay as soon as possible. In a November 12 Washington Post article, staff writer Peter Finn reported:

The Obama administration will launch a review of the classified files of the approximately 250 detainees at Guantanamo Bay immediately after taking office, as part of an intensive effort to close the U.S. prison in Cuba, according to people who advised the campaign on detainee issues.

As of late October, when I visited, 255 men were still being held at the US military’s Joint Task Force (JTF) detention facility at Guantanamo.

Many of the men being held–referred to euphemistically as “detainees”–were removed from their home countries and transported to this island, where they have lived in captivity for several years.

They have been awaiting trial and due process (hell, most of them have been awaiting formal charges) ever since, with few ever seeing their day in court. Those who have could legitimately question whether justice was served, as military judges are appointed to panels that hear detainees’ cases.

A good number of the men have actually been cleared for release by an administrative review board. But here’s the problem: They have nowhere to go. According to sources on the base, the men who could leave Guantanamo Bay today can’t go anywhere because no country wants them. It’s too dangerous for them to go home. Yet no other country is stepping up and volunteering to give them temporary or permanent shelter.

*
There are things we can’t understand unless we see them.

Things we can understand intellectually or emotionally, but fail to grasp entirely until we’re staring them–literally–in the face.

And that’s the case with Guantanamo.

Close Guantanamo.

It sounds logical enough.

Easy enough.

But as with economic bail outs and battlefront pull outs, closing Guantanamo is only easy if you’re thinking about it from afar.

In the abstract.

Rhetorically.

When you start to think about the bigger picture, the longer term, the human consequences, and–especially–when you see it… nothing is quite as easy as it seems.

Do I want to see the detention facility closed?

Yes.

But not unless we have a realistic plan in place to transfer men whose true lives are poorly understood into societies where they have a chance to live. Not unless we’re ready to acknowledge that the complete miscarriage of justice for which President Bush is responsible is likely to have effects that we’re not remotely prepared to handle.

Closing Guantanamo is the easy part. It’s what comes after that is hard… and which no one is talking about.

Text & Photos: Francisco Collazo
Translation: Julie Schwietert Collazo
[vease abajo para la version en espanol]
*

I already have the Sunday edition of The New York Times.

This time, I made sure I was home on Saturday night because I’m no longer confident I’ll get my copy if I don’t act quickly.

We bought two copies of this one, one to read and the other to keep.

My plan was simple: get up in the morning on November 5, buy The Washington Post, and then buy The New York Times once we were back in New York. It was an historic edition, one I wanted to save forever.

Simple,right? Well, it wasn’t as simple as it seemed or as easy as the plan sounded.

*

The day of the elections, my wife and I were in Washington, D.C., blogging about the results with a group of writers at NPR. It was an incredible experience, considering what the election meant for Americans and given the history of the United States.

The room where we were working was a beehive, enthusiastic and intense, with results and emotions alike bouncing from one side of the room to the other: “Obama is ahead in Florida!” someone shouted with emotion. “McCain won Virginia!” someone else shouted, and the room filled with breaking news squawking from three televisions and a large screen on which the election results were being refreshed every few minutes by NPR. The moment was transformative, not just for me, but for people around the world.

During my stay in Washington, D.C., I’d walked along the streets before we started blogging, visiting polling places and looking for Obama political posters: nothing! It seemed like the earth had just swallowed them up. It was as if there had never been a campaign in his name.

The next day, we woke up with the idea of buying the newspaper in Washington, but all of the newsstands were empty. There was no way to find a copy of the paper anywhere in the city. We tried to find the paper at various shops and gas stations between Washington and New York, making frequent stops at restaurants, newsstands, and pharmacies, but the result was always the same: “We don’t have any copies.” “We ran out at 10 AM.” “Sorry!”

At this point in the journey, I began to feel defeated and annoyed. “How could this happen?” I asked myself again and again. Isn’t this the country where you can find anything you need or want?!
I started to speculate that the shortage of papers was a press conspiracy intended to stimulate demand and increase prices, a thought that made me sad.

We arrived in New York at 11 PM and drove around the city looking for copies of The New York Times. The same bad luck followed us. Defeat and depression! The first Black American was elected to the highest position in the United States and I had no newspaper! I couldn’t get over it.

We bought copies of other newspapers—Le Monde, El Tiempo, and others—but for me, it wasn’t the same. I wanted the November 5 edition of the Times; the rest didn’t matter to me.

A scene from the movie “Schindler’s List” came to mind, the one in which a high official for the German army tries to convince Schindler that he can “replace” the workers he’s lost when they’re “accidentally” sent to the concentration camp with a fresh batch of workers. “The train comes and we turn it around,” the official says, but Oskar interrupts him, saying, “Yes, yes, I understand, but I wanted these!” I know the feeling.

*
My wife was suffering, watching me in this state, and she decided to order the November 5 edition directly from the office of The New York Times… at the price of $14.95 per copy. But even getting this copy took days of patience. Every time she went online to complete the order, the server crashed. Six times or more, the same problem. But finally, her order was processed. I felt relieved and vindicated.

Now, I have not one, but 10 copies of The New York Times, for a cost of $224.50. We learned that after every attempt she made to buy the paper, she was charged for a full order. Well, at least I can breathe now: one is too many and a thousand is never enough!

*
Uno es mucho, y mil no es suficiente

La edicion del domingo del New York Times la tengo ya. Esta vez me aseguro que esta este en casa el sabado en la noche “por si las moscas” ya que no confio que encontrare una copia si no actuo con rapidez.

Compramos dos copias de este, una para leer y la otra para guardarla para futuras generaciones. Mis ambiciones eran simple: me levanto en la manana del dia 5, compro copia de El Washington Post y una vez en Nueva York compro una copia del New York Times, y estas las guardare para la posteridad. Verdad? Bueno, no es tan simple como parece ni tan facil como suena.

El dia de las elecciones mi esposa y yo estabamos en Washington, D.C pasando los resultados de las elecciones instantaneas en la red electronica. Una experiencia unica por lo que estas elecciones significaban para nosotros y para la historia reciente de los Estados Unidos.

El salon donde estabamos hubicados parecia una colmena de abejas por la intensidad y entusiasmo con que los resultados y emociones corrian de una esquina a la otra: Obama esta arriba en la Florida-uno gritaban con emocion- McCain gano en Virginia-otro gritaban y el salon se llenaba de noticias recientes unidas al sonido de los tres televisores y de la pantalla gigante que nos alimentaba con las noticias frescas y recientes que llegaban a los studios de NPR (Radio Publica Nacional en sus siglas en espanol). Esta experiencia era transformativa no solo para mi sino para muchos alrededor del mundo.

Durante mi estancia en Washington, D.C. sali de la emisora antes de comenzar la transmision por todos los sitios electorales para buscar las pancartas politicas de Obama y nada. Habia una ausencia total de todo lo refente a este. Parecia que se lo habia tragado la tierra. Era como si nunca se hubiera hecho campana politica con su nombre. Nada!

Al dia siguiente nos levantamos en la manana con la idea de comprar el diario en Washington y en cada uno de los estanquillos estaban vacios, no hubo manera de encontrar una copia de este en ningun lado de la ciudad. Tratamos de comprarlo en el camino desde Washington hasta Nueva York hacienda paradas frecuentes en gasolineras, cafeterias, estanquillo de revistas y periodicos y los resultado fueron los mismos –No hay copias, estas se agotaron como a las 10 de la manana, lo siento! Ya a este punto en el camino me sentia derrotado y molesto. Como puede pasar esto? Me preguntaba una y otra vez, no es este el pais donde puedes encontrarlo todo? Ahora estoy pensando que es una conspiracion por parte de la prensa para que halla demanda y subir los precios- pense con mucha tristeza.

Llegamos a la ciudad de Nueva York como a las 11 de la noche y andamos toda la ciudad para conseguir copias del New York Times y corrimos la misma suerte una y otra vez. Me senti derrotado y muy deprimido por muchas razones: El primer Afroamericano electo para la mas alta posicion en los Estados Unidos de America y no tengo esa documentacion para anos venideros; Que le digo a mis hijos cuando me pregunten por que no tengo una copia original de esa noticia. No puedo perdonarme esto!.

Compramos copias de varios periodicos de Nueva York: Le Monde, El Tiempo y otros, pero para mi no eran lo mismo, yo queria la edicion de Noviembre 5 y los demas no me importaban de la misma manera que este. Me vino a la mente una escena de la pelicula “La Lista de Schindler” donde un alto oficial del ejercito aleman trata de convencerlo, diciendole a Oskar Schindler que el podria “re-emplazar” a los trabajadores que el habia perdido al enviarlos por accidente a Auschwitz (campo de aniquilacion y exterminio en masa), por un cargamento fresco de prisioneros que recien llegarian: El tren llega y nosotros los desviamos –el official Aleman dice- y Oskar interrumpiendole le dice- Si, si yo entiendo, pero yo quiero estos!- de hecho la escena tomo un significado profundo y personal. Para mi era una revelacion muy intima y emocional.

Mi esposa esta sufriendo al verme sufrir y decide ordenar esta directamente desde las oficinas del New York Times a un precio de $14.95 cada copia. Obtener esta copia fue un trabajo de dias y de mucha paciencia. Cada vez que entraba a la pagina para completar la order, esta se caia o se desconectaba, o un anuncio le decia: “Debido al volumen de pedidos no podemos procesar su orden. Por favor trate de Nuevo” y asi ocurrio por 6 o mas veces hasta que en uno de esos ultimos intentos logro ordenarlo. Senti alivio y me senti vendicado por todo mis esfuerzos mentales y la tensiones de no tener esa copia. Ahora, tengo no una, pero 10 copias del New York Times por un costo total de $224.50 ya que despues que cada intento que se hizo este se proceso como un pedido completo.

Al final, puedo respirar y comprender el dicho: Uno es mucho y mil nunca es suficiente!

Text by Francisco Collazo
Photo by Julie Schwietert Collazo
*
With all the excitement of our election night blogging experience at NPR, it’s taken us awhile to follow up on a request from a student in my cooking class to post a recipe for my cream of basil soup.

We first tasted cream of basil soup at the extraordinary Hotel Villa Ganz in Guadalajara, Mexico a couple months ago. At the time, we weren’t sure what the soup was. We spent 10 minutes guessing the ingredients and finally realized that the unexpected flavor of the soup was attributable to basil. An easy soup to make, and one that’s surprising and pleasing to guests because of its uniqueness, I decided to replicate the soup by devising my own recipe…and adding a final flourish.

Ingredients:

2 Tablespoons of olive oil
3 cups of broth (vegetable or chicken)
1 clove of garlic, minced (or in a paste after roasting in the oven, which is even better!)
1 cup of heavy cream
1.5 cups of basil leaves, chopped fine
1 medium onion, minced
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 teaspoon of anise seed (optional)
chile serrano to garnish (1 per serving) (optional)
*
Directions:

1. In a saucepan or soup pot, sautee the minced onion and the garlic in the 2 Tb. of olive oil just until golden.
2. Add basil to the onion and garlic mixture; sautee for two minutes.
3. Add broth to the basil/onion/garlic mixture. Bring to a boil and then lower the heat. Simmer for five minutes then remove from heat and allow to cool.
4. Once the soup is cool, puree in a blender or using an immersion blender.
5. After blending, return the soup to the pot and heat on medium.
6. Add the heavy cream and anise seed. Cook until the soup thickens somewhat; stir continuously during this process.
7. Remove from heat and serve.
8. If you’d like to make the dish slightly more impressive, roast serrano chiles on the stove and garnish each bowl of soup with a single chile (uncut and unseeded).
9. Serve and enjoy!

Regardless of who wins, I suggest that the candidates and the American people spend the next week taking a collective nap once the election is (finally) over.

Amidst all the talk of the “24 hour election cycle,” I decided to record what Francisco and I have been up to for the past 24 hours.

6:20 PM Monday night: Headed to dinner in NYC with Tom Gates, editor of MatadorLife. Agreed we will plan either a celebratory after party or a massive group therapy experience after the election.

10:30 PM: Back home in NYC. Watched some PBS while checking messages and ignoring all e-mails related to work. Stopped by local grocery store to buy snacks for the road.

12:30 AM: Start watching Bunuel’s film “The Young One.” Fall asleep.

7:00 AM Tuesday: Wake up.

8:00 AM: With coffee, dog, ID, & husband in hand, head off to vote. No line.

8:30 AM: First tearful moment of day while looking at people working and voting at my polling precinct. I make all my choices and just stare long and hard before pulling the lever.

9:30-11:30 AM: Pack, pretend to do some work editing, do some Twitters, watch number of voters spiraling up on Facebook, eat cream of basil soup, shower, give keys to neighbor so she can feed and walk Penelope tonight. Chat with my boyfriend from kindergarten, who’s now in US Army. “Though you’ll report with liberal slant, I’ll still follow you on NPR tonight,” he said.

12:00 PM: Get e-mail from my mom. She went to polls in South Carolina at 6:45 AM and it took her an hour to vote.

1:30 PM: Pick up NY Times, $10 worth of quarters for tolls, blast through the Lincoln Tunnel, and it’s NJ Turnpike all the way, baby.

2:06 PM: Listening to WNYC. Tearing up (again); have chills (again); read Times & Obama’s description of sea of people at rally in Virginia. Get carsick because I can’t stop reading.

2:15 PM: Lose WNYC signal. All talk radio using words “historic,” “record,” “incredible,” “unbelievable.” Except the one that has Joe the Plumber nattering his way through a commercial. I’d tell you what it was but I had to change the station.

3:34 PM: Stop at rest area in Maryland. 2 double espressos to go. It’s gonna be a long night. Self-imposed talk radio ban has lasted one hour. After hearing MC Hammer’s “Can’t Touch This,” think to self, “Must find NPR now.”

4:14 PM: Realizing how important election coverage is, I make decision to apply for dual degree in Latin American Studies and Journalism. If you’re reading this, you’re the first to know.

4:38 PM: 25 miles from DC. Obama bumper stickers: 6. McCain bumper stickers: 0.

4:54 PM: Drive under overpass for “Good Luck Road.” NPR talks about exit poll info.

5:57 PM: Pull into NPR parking lot in DC. Fire up both laptops. Francisco heads off to MLK Library on G Street to photograph and video before polls close. Have third teary jag of day, as I read my friend Ami’s e-mail. Start blogging like a madwoman.

Photo: Leo Reynolds (Flickr creative commons)