5 Things You MUST do in Iceland

I decided to go to Iceland and hopped on a plane that day. I can't tell you how happy I am that I did. There is something special about taking advantage of those serendipitous moments in life. The trip was short, but sweet, three full days and four nights, was all I needed to escape the hustle and bustle of NYC and get back to nature. 

Iceland is a place of pure magic. With only 300,000 people on the whole island, the land is untouched, and tranquil, you sense if from the moment you step off the plane. Looking back on my trip, these are the 5 things you must do when you visit the not so icy Iceland. 

1.     Fish for Icelandic Salmon  - Fishing in Iceland is unparalleled, the rivers are pure, the water is crisp and the fish love to bite. Find a local fishing lodge (Ranga rocks) and hit the stream in your groovy waders. Slow down and get in touch with the natural rhythm. If you are lucky enough to get a fish you can have some sashimi on a rock, or even poach it in a hot spring. I am sure any of your new Icelandic friends would be happy to have you over for dinner and share some salmon too.

2.     Stop at a road side market for local fare – Along the desolate Icelandic roads, you may encounter an unsuspecting gas station… take a peak inside, they may have some truly traditional Icelandic eats for you to indulge in. Get a flatbread and a coffee, enjoy the photo filled dining room and hit the road.

3.     Descend into a Volcano – Yup sounds freaky? Well… it kind of is, drop down 200 meters into the heart of a volcano.  We always think of going up and exploring the stars, but what about exploring what is right under our feet? Walk through magma chambers and journey towards the center of the earth... you may get a little emotional... don't worry, it's only natural. 

4.     Visit a waterfall and hike to the top  – Stand below the waterfall and feel the cool fresh mist cover your body. If you are up for it, get as close as you can and get wet. Breath deep and take in all those negative ions… they make you feel great and crush those free radicals. Iceland is jam packed with waterfalls and gorgeous. You thought that Ithaca was Gorgeous… think again, Iceland blows it all away.

5.     Hit a local Pool/Hot Spring – In Reykjavik alone, there are 18 pools. Not to mention the countless hot springs around the country. I recommend getting a slice of local life by going to a local pool and catching some rays outside. Bounce back and fourth between hot pools, scalding steam rooms, saunas and ice cold baths or lakes. At the end of your session, grab a cup of soup and a cold glass of water to replenish. 

Journey to Iceland. Let yourself go and experience one of the last places that humans haven't touched... at least not too much. Find peace and tranquility of nature and a new pace of life. I came back to NYC feeling refreshed and inspired. I am sure you will too. 

A Budding Tourism Industry

The drive back to Saut d’Eau from our hotel is filled with church music, as we pass people dressed in their Sunday best. We venture to the new community ‘swimming area,’ part of Concern’s tourism program. It is beautiful to see the community coming together to build something for domestic tourists and locals. Water is diverted from the spring to fill the pool. The area will host vendors, family, and guests alike.

Gabe at the newly-built community center; Photo by Kieran McConville

On our way to the sacred waterfall, we stop by the cultural and tourism center that is near completion and will open later this month. Painted yellow and red, it sits with a vista of the barren hills. It is close to the waterfall and will be used as a community space in which people can do really whatever they want. A kind of project that will only bring good. (Learn more about the project here)

The waterfall is magic. I am led by a local tour guide as we climb the rocks towards the base. I ask if I can climb the falls and our guide obliges. He nimbly steps from rock to rock, avoiding the slippery ones. I follow suit. As the water breaks through the air, there is something magical that occurs. I feel fresh and rejuvenated. Perhaps it is for this ineffable reason that over 100,000 people come to the village in the month of July to this place of worship. Catholics and those who practice voodoo come, break bread, and enjoy this feat of nature. As I walk to the car, wet from the waterfall, I am filled with a sense of joy and excitement. It is a true testament to how powerful nature is and how beautiful our interaction with it can be.

At the waterfalls; Photo by Kieran McConville

It is time to visit another project that Concern is undertaking. We visit a B&B that was built for a woman in the community. The undertaking is sizable but a lack of resources and infrastructure makes the process of building it long and arduous. The B&B is clean, organized, and rigged for power and running water. She tells me that she has only had one guest in the last year. Although that is slightly disheartening, she remains optimistic.

With Gertrude Saint-Victor, owner of the B&B; Photo by Kieran McConville

As I leave the cottage, I am hit with a sense of frustration. Why are there not more people? Why does she not care? I find myself retreating to a space of discomfort. Upon reflection, I realize that I am simply sad. It hurts me to see people struggle, and for all the people I have met in Haiti, life is a struggle. Minimal education and resources make growth near impossible.

The town of Saut d’Eau is beautiful and optimistic. However, life in Haiti is not easy for most. Political instability with the upcoming elections leaves everyone on edge as gunshots occasionally ring through village. The need for tourism and support, both domestically and abroad, leaves many people and communities dependent on the work of NGOs and other charity organizations.

In my short time there, it seems as though Haiti has been neglected and left out to dry. Although the situation is improving, it is a sheer reminder that there are many places on this planet that need the support of more fortunate people and nations. For those of us living in the States, regardless of where you live or how much money you make, we have been dealt a great hand.

As I reflect on my travels, I am inspired to grow, learn, explore, and help the world and those who need it. Food is not only a universal language, but can be a catalyst for change. I hope to share my gift with the world and continue to explore and discover how this can be a medium to leave the world in a better place then it ever was.

Coconut Chicken Curry in Haiti's Voodoo Heartland

Over one billion people across the world struggle to live on less than $1 a day. In an effort to reduce that statistic, Concern Worldwide is partnering with the Live Below the Line project to challenge everyone to live on $1.50 a day from April 27 to May 1. Find out more here.

Day 2: Coconut Chicken Curry in Haiti’s Voodoo Heartland

Today we venture a few hours north of Port-au-Prince, to the village of Saut d’Eau. We weave our way through the cityscape of mainly shacks and through the other slums that were set up post-earthquake. Eventually we make it onto a road that runs parallel with the beautiful coastline.

We veer off the side of the main road and begin climbing one that Concern built. This dusty road winds up and through the mountains. We pass people on motorbikes and on foot, and I feel bad every time we leave them in a cloud of dust. It is rare to see a car, although the bikes tend to carry five people on the back.

Stopping at the top I can feel the gravity of this road, the journey to Saut d’Eau used to take two days by foot, but now with the road it is only a few hours. The mountains are barren from deforestation and eventual erosion and the top-soil is only inches thick. The resources are slim. We continue down the road, passing women on donkeys with buckets of water, and small boys on horses asking for a dollar in exchange for a picture.

It becomes clear they live a truly subsistence existence.

As we arrive in the village of Saut d’Eau, a small oasis in a desolate environment. The roads are paved and people seem to be better off than the rest of what I have seen. The Concern office used to be the weekend retreat of the Duvaliers many years ago, where they used to throw lavish parties. It is now the center of change and positivity.

We venture to a family’s house on the outskirts of town. They live on a small patch of land that is mostly dirt. A mango tree grows out back, but the fruit is not yet ripe. The naked baby has sores all over his body. He grabs my sunglasses and inspects them. The grandmother rocks on a chair and does not look up. We ask her age and nobody knows. We speak about life, food, family, and their dreams. It becomes clear they live a truly subsistence existence.

Chatting with a local family; Photo by Crystal Wells

Concern provides them with a weekly stipend for projects that will better their life as well as materials for a garden and to build a more sturdy home. I am unsure if it is our presence, but there is a sense of apathy that is hard to describe. The family lives in a two-room house. The floor is moist dirt. There is one bed. The kids sleep on the floor. As we pack up, my heart hurts, shocked, but inspired by the level or resilience this family embodies.

We roll off to the market in the east. The town is lively. As we walk into the market, my senses are overwhelmed. Narrow streets, lots of people, and even more products for sale. Suzemanie, who works with Concern in Saut d’Eau and owns a small catering company, and I start to shop. I am in awe, loving every moment of this market. People yell blanc, the Creole word for “white person,” as we are the only three white people in the market. We settle on some sweet potato, spinach and watercress. A few limes, sour oranges, and bell peppers round out our bag. We have food. A lot of food. It cost me less then $9.

Suzemanie and I purchase food at the local market; Photo by Crystal Wells

I am shocked as I recall the shopping experience at a supermarket in Port–au-Prince. All the produce needed to feed 20 people was less then the jar of curry paste I bought yesterday at the luxury market.

Demonstrating how to cook traditional Haitian curry; Photo by Crystal Wells

We arrive back at the compound and I begin to cook, preparing all of the ingredients for the 15 guests who will be arriving shortly. Some of the people attending the cooking demonstration are part of Concern’s program to build a nascent tourism industry in Saut d’Eau. Two own B&Bs thanks to start-up capital and support from Concern, while four took part in tourism and hospitality trainings. Trying my best to cut the vegetables with a dull knife, I manage to get along and the aromas overtake me.

I want to teach these students a traditional curry, but this time it is a Haitian curry. I guide them through how to sear the chicken and build depth of flavor, layering ingredients and technique. These kids are smart and hopeful. Over beers we discuss their dreams about Saut d’Eau. They want to open a five-star hotel with 150 rooms — a lofty goal, but inspiring.

Saut d’Eau has potential for tourism, especially in July when tens of thousands of people come to the area as part of a religious pilgrimage to a nearby waterfall, but they must think through how that will work. I prompt them to discover what will draw people to the area, and how can they make their property and experience for visitors more appealing. They are engaged. I offer my help, something I hope they follow up on. We smile and laugh while the curry simmers.

As we pack up, my heart hurts, shocked, but inspired by the level of resilience this family embodies.

We revisit the curry and put the finishing touches on it, some sour orange, lime, and fish sauce. As they taste it, their faces light up. The curry and rice accompanied with some fried breadfruit and pikliz, a spicy cabbage slaw.

I am blown away by how the flavors meld together. This is truly something special. The curry did not taste as I expected it. It was a beautiful melding of culture and flavor, a true melting pot. The meal finishes and we say our good-byes. I hope to see them in the future and return to one of their bed and breakfasts.

Crystal, Kieran, and I hop in the car, and head to a voodoo ceremony. We arrive too late and find a few stragglers sleeping on the ground. The area is littered with alcohol bottles and a whip. It must have been a crazy night.

Eggs Benedict and the Slums of Port-au-Prince

Over one billion people across the world struggle to live on less than $1 a day. In an effort to reduce that statistic, Concern Worldwide is partnering with the Live Below the Line project to challenge everyone to live on $1.50 a day from April 27 to May 1. Find out more here:

To promote this endeavor, we have teamed up with season three’s winner of “The Taste” and executive chef at Bon Appetit Gabe Kennedy. He traveled with Concern to Haiti to connect with people who live below the poverty line — here is his story!

Day 1: Eggs Benedict and the Slums of Port-au-Prince

I arrive in Port-au-Prince and the humidity hits me like a brick, a sheer change from the cold New York winter. I am greeted by the Concern Worldwide team — Crystal, Kieran, and Ricardo. We exchange hugs and immediately the adventure begins.

We hop in the Land Cruiser and jet straight to Grand Ravine, a slum of 20,000 that is one of the most impoverished communities in all of Port-au-Prince. The drive is winding and busy, with people lining the streets to sell whatever they can. Shacks, houses, and various rudimentary structures comprise most of the landscape, making it hard to keep my bearings. We arrive at Grand Ravine and local liaisons guide us through a village of shacks where each and every person is trying to carve out their existence, while the forces of gangs and the elements make themselves known every step of the way.

Gabe and Nerline in front of her house; Photo by Crystal Wells

We meet a 23-year-old woman, Nerline, who is attending a small culinary school thanks to the help of Concern. She leads us through the town. The work that Concern is doing in this community speaks volumes and cannot be denied as beneficial. The system is complicated, there is no easy fix; but the holistic and integrated approach seems to be working.

We arrive at her house. It is a small dwelling of two rooms. The concrete floors are clean. Eight people live here. I am still trying to figure out where they all sleep. She begins to open up, discussing her dreams and desires and I am taken aback by the fact that she does not want to leave. It makes me question everything. Why would she not want a better life? Is it because this is all she knows?

We continue to meander through the streets, stopping to say hello to street vendors, looking at Concern’s programs and connecting with Grand Ravine residents. It’s nothing less than amazing. It is now time to venture to Nerline’s cooking school.

Gabe and Concern staff Ricardo Valcena stop at a local vendor; Photo by Crystal Wells

After a brief car ride, we arrive at the school. I hop up the stairs to see 12 women in chef whites sit in desks facing a table set with a red vinyl table-cloth. They are eagerly awaiting the class. The pressure is now on — time to teach. The kitchen is not much of a kitchen. No running water, one stove which needs to be lit with a match, and only one pot insight. It is filled with rice. My mind starts racing as how to best teach these quiet students.

The initial idea was to teach these women how to prepare eggs benedict, a dish that uses cheap ingredients and transforms them into a delicious and often expensive menu item. The translator tries his best to explain what we are about to do and the madness begins.

After some coaxing, Gabe’s students taste their creation; Photo by Crystal Wells

I vigorously whisk the egg yolk in a glass bowl to show them how to make the sauce. I teach some basic knife skills, like how to chop an onion. The ladies slice and toast the bread. I teach them how to cut the avocado with a spoon and how to properly poach an egg. The runny yolk is something that could not be more foreign, and apparently off-putting. After coaxing them a bit I get them to taste the food. They are surprised and delighted and continue to eat. Mission accomplished.

Now it is my time to learn. I get to experience some of Haiti’s national rice dishes: rice, beef tasso, and mashed eggplant. The techniques are simple, but produce incredible flavor. The rice is delicious, the beef is best described as a braised short rib that was turned into jerky, and the eggplant was incredible, by far my favorite.

We depart the cooking school. This country could not be any more different than my every day life. I could not be further from home, but spending time in the kitchen and connecting through food made me feel right at home again. The day was a success. I never would have been able to communicate with these women if it was not for food. The opportunity to bond through the medium I love is ineffable.

I finish the day with a beautiful meal, filled with gratitude, reflecting on how truly lucky I am.