Volunteer Abroad- A Great Way to Travel
Why Volunteering Abroad is a Great Way to Travel
Are you a traveler or a vacationer? Going on vacation is typically an escape from the everyday grind in order to reset the moral button in the brain. This is what the masses often refer to as traveling. Personally I do not find a whole lot of enrichment in having a few cool pictures to post on Facebook, a bronzy new tan and a shot glass with a lizard on it to show for my travels.
A true traveler immerses themselves in the culture of a distant land, absorbing the richness of the experience and coming home as a better person for it. International volunteers not only get a new perspective on life around the world but makes you a global citizen.
The world is not a zoo to look at behind glass walls. Being part of it is what it is all about. By volunteering abroad or having a Gap Year abroad is without a doubt the most powerful way to set your life on a new direction. While anyone of any age can volunteer abroad, students can benefit in ways they cannot imagine.
Years ago students you said they were going to take a year off after high school to backpack around Europe were considered the rebels not ready for college life and commitment. Today a Gap Year is not only becoming more common it is becoming mainstream. We no longer live in a world with Iron Curtains and limited communication. Earth is a much smaller place in the 21st century and we are all citizens of the planetary community.
Internships such as journalism in Moldova, working with the Human Rights Commission in Togo or medical facilities in Addis Ababa not only provide an opportunity to help the world but make a resume shine and show universities a commitment to serve. As a student imagine starting out on your path in life with a great accomplishment already under your belt. It sets the tone for a rewarding and enriching future.
photo by WAVA LTD
For those of us that are long past the college days, are all too familiar with the monotony of daily survival in a corporate world, volunteering abroad will present new horizons and re-open that box of dreams we had when we were young.
There are many Gap Year and Volunteer Abroad organizations out there, but I strongly recommend Projects Abroad. They are the leading overseas volunteer organization that handles every aspect volunteering you could possibly encounter.
New volunteers often think they might not have much to offer and end up putting it off. You will be surprised what you have to offer. I have built schools in Central America, taught English in places I never heard of and worked aboard marine mammal rescue vessels in the Med. Everyone can find something that will be one of the most rewarding experiences of their life.
If you have ever considered volunteering abroad or are just looking for a way to make your life feel accomplished, contact Projects Abroad or ask questions in the comment box below.
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Best Beaches: Two Thirds Water Leaves a lot of Choices.
What could be more cliché than a post about “Best Beaches” on a travel blog? The only thing that comes to mind is refusing to put a post about “Best Beaches” on a travel blog.
With the two thirds of the earth covered with water, beaches are like Bernie Botts Every Flavor Beans (if you don’t know what that is, just ask your kids). There are some great ones and there are some that are just plain horrible.
Trying to suggest the best beach holidays to someone you know nothing about is pretty much the same as answering “what’s the best food on this planet?” to an extra terrestrial. It all depends on what you like.
The key to breaking this down into proper perspective is to look at your two basic beach goers: Me and my wife. My wife is perfectly happy to sit on a towel from sun up to sun down with a book she has to squint at, drinking a sandtini (two parts mojito and one part sand kicked in the glass by annoying Frisbee players). I, on the other hand, last for about 15 minutes before I am so bored I want to scream.
Now here’s the thing….I have sailed around the world a few times and have seen so many beaches that I have a certain kind of kinship to them. The way the watery tongue of the tide gently melts away the grainy sand, like a child licking a Snow Cone. There is that symphony of sea birds that makes Mozart bow his head in shame. No food vendor lined street in the world can compare with the delicious smell of where ocean hugs shore.
So yes while sitting on the beach all day has no appeal to me, I love the beach more than anyplace. I love to explore. It is in my blood to seek what is hidden. I love the solitude of the beach.
Nimewo En
Antigua- All of the beaches on the island of Antigua are amazing. There are 365 to choose from. Interesting note: On a visit to Antigua, Queen Elizabeth went swimming in the ocean for the first time of her life because she could not resist the beauty of it. Unless you are on a yearlong holiday, you are not going to be able to visit them all. There is a great trick for finding the perfect beach on Antigua.
Step 1.) Get in a taxi and tell the driver to take you someplace that is a few miles away from where you are currently. It doesn’t matter where. While driving glance at your watch (if you believe in such useless items) or just wait until about 5 minutes has passed where you have not seen any houses, resorts or people in general.
Step 2.) Tell the driver that you want to stop here. Get out of the taxi and start walking until you see a foot path. There will be no signs, only worn earth from where people have walked before you. The path will lead to a beach soon enough. Chances are that the beach will be empty, or at the very least very few people. While the wife delves into the tales of Jackie Collins, the husband instantly transforms into a 12 year old Jim Hawkins.
Numéro Deux
Monaco’s Larvotto- One of the best parts about the beach is the social ladder is hidden behind the country club shed. This is the place to elbow your way in with the rich and famous. Not the most private, not the most beautiful, but definitely the best beach to people watch. This is the perfect place to feel luxurious and escape from the office cubicle (again-if you believe in such foolish contraptions). A stop here will also be sure to allow me the next pick when discussing options with my wife.
Numero Tre
Santa Margherita Ligure Genoa- As previously stated I get bored sitting on the beach all day. When I am bored I eat. I could try, but I doubt I would find a place that has such unbelievably good food is Genoa Italy. The city is busy and the beach consists of a fleet of oil tankers. However, a few miles east, and not far from Monaco, Santa Margherita Ligure is the best of both worlds. It is a nice family beach with a playground for kids and most importantly…..food galore. This is the place where you can dine on Frutti de Mare without a black tie. Bare feet a
nd a splash of SPF30 are welcome here. Whenever I visit this beach I tend to eat a lot first. Then spread out on a towel for a long nap. My belly is happy and my wife is happy. For once she does not have to sit by herself while I am off flipping over stones looking for cool crawly things.
Number Four
Hermit Island Maine- In all fairness I grew up here. This is the place where friends will gather around a campfire at night, steam lobsters in a pit and sing along to the one guy in the group that knows which end of the guitar to strum. Here memories are created. With so many rocky ledges to explore, coves to discover and sea mammals to make friends with, you will never get bored. Seals honk at you from the ledges while whales come in close and blow their spouts in a wave. A full day on the beach will only prime you for a night on the beach as well. The world slips away and solitude takes its place. The worries of putting more coins in the parking meter or getting back to the hotel in time for the dinner show are never invading thoughts on Hermit Island. You are more likely to see a deer strolling along the shore than a policeman looking for people with open bottles of wine. The former is likely and the latter is nil.
There is no list of the best beaches in the world. There are only stories of experiences had while at the beach. Even the term “at the beach” is absurd. If two thirds of the planet is water and only one third land, then why don’t we say I am going to “the land” for vacation?
No matter your reasons, a trip to the place where the water shakes hands with the sand is sure to be a memorable time of your life. There are many budget trips abroad that will get you to the beaches you desire.
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Dinner in the Jungle
The waterlogged skiff seemed to be held together with barnacles and hope. With each chop the transom bent under the weight of the coverless outboard motor.
I have sailed through hurricanes, fallen overboard, rode 30 foot waves, had masts snap in two and come crashing down around me in a tangle of ropes and cables; the 25-minute boat ride to Almirante was as white knuckled a passage as I ever care to endure.
The wind plastered Lisa’s hair back from her face. Oblivious to the impending doom, she forged ahead through the waves at full throttle.
Her real name wasn’t Lisa; I overheard her friends refer to her as something else which I could not quite pick up on. When we met that morning in Bocas Del Toro, she was bringing me coffee and Carimanola (fried yucca stuffed with beef and boiled eggs).
“I love this coffee.” I said to break the ice. “What kind is it?”
It worked. She immediately sat down and taught me a lesson in Panamanian coffee.
The way her tone separated the classes intrigued me; her reference to the “Indians” that picked the coffee had an inflection on the word Indians as if she were saying something dirty.
I was admittedly confused by this young woman of indeterminate age. She was a beautiful girl of Hispanic decent with an obvious dose of indigenous DNA in her genetic makeup. Compelled to ask her if she were part Ngobi, I thought better of it and held my tongue.
Luckily I was the only customer in the four table restaurant, which gave me the opportunity to listen to her fascinating account of life in the archipelago of Bocas Del Toro, Panama. She asked me about my reason for being there and I explained that I had sailed down from the Bay Islands of Honduras by way of Nicaragua and Costa Rica. She jumped at the opening to inform me she also had a boat.
“Poor people take water taxi back to Almirante. I have my own.” She boasted.
Hanging around for another hour, I picked at a coconut pastry and thumbed through a week old copy of La Prensa while she finished work after accepting the offer to visit her home and family via her “own boat.”
The rotten little skiff slowed and pointed towards an overhanging patch of bushes. We tied off on a branch next to a mud road. A half hairless dog crawled out from under the bushes and followed behind us. Head low to the ground, an animal that may have been a rat at one time hung from the despicable canine’s maw. I almost asked if it were her dog but decided I would prefer not to know. If the beast were not diseased I am pretty sure its prey was.
I wondered if any vehicles travelled the road. It was pocked with holes several feet deep; puddles so old that tadpoles with leg buds swam in them. We passed one section where more than half the road had been swallowed by the cove like a giant sea creature had taken a crescent bite before slipping back into the abyss. We trekked on with the mangy beast in tow and 10 minutes later she announced that we had arrived.
Red letters, two feet wide, spelled out “bruja” on the unpainted concrete blocks and across the front door. The tiny cinder block home supported a rust ridden patchwork metal roof. A chicken darted out of the way with chasing chicks as the dog found a cool spot under an Angel Trumpet bush. A young Ngobi-Hispanic boy scrubbed at the letters with a brush, sloshing soapy water from a child’s pink beach pail onto the dirt entrance.
“It say witch. They call my mother witch. She no witch. They jealous at my family.” Lisa told me as we approached her home.
She introduced the little boy as her brother, Clari. Greeting me with a big toothy smile, he happily went back to work removing the graffiti. Entering the house, the floor felt strange beneath my wet sandals. Looking down at the heavily stained indoor/outdoor carpet, I noticed the bulges similar to the floor inside a tent. The carpet was apparently supported by a bare earth.
Lisa pulled a hard backed chair from the wall, facing it toward a 12-inch black and white TV that wore a tin foil sculpture that posed as an antenna, and gestured for me to sit.
My eyes scanned the unpainted concrete block walls, covered from top to bottom with photographs, drawings, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place ribbons, Popsicle stick figures and an uncountable number of postcards from Spain.
The 12-foot by 12-foot room was separated by a dark blue sheet hand embroidered with white frilly vertical stripes that acted as a door to whatever was hidden beyond. I was impressed with the decorating attempts with such limited resources. Although it seemed condescending to think of the décor as childlike, I couldn’t help but to perceive it that way.
Garbled voices in rapid Spanish leaked through, obviously announcing my visit. Lisa returned with a beautiful woman with long raven hair and eyes as green as the neighboring rain forest. -a rarity in that part of Panama. Recognizing her from one of the photographs on the wall in which she stood next to a man of Native Central American decent, I accepted her outstretched hand as she introduced herself, in remarkably good English with a hint of a Castilian accent, as Graciela. She invited me to dinner and asked if I would mind walking to the market with Lucilia to pick up a few things.
“Lisa!” the girl corrected her mother with a bit of color rising in her cheeks.
The market was a 10-minute walk through trash strewn streets. Mangy dogs and half naked children stood staring as we passed.
The conversation was light but with an air of her superiority over the other local residents. Amused with her sense of keeping up with the Jones of the Jungle attitude, I took her attempt at impressing me as a compliment. I wanted to let her know that there was no need to try to impress me. I loved where I was. Looking at other cultures like animals in a zoo for amusement just wasn’t me. I put myself in other cultures to learn and live as a global citizen. Different did not mean uncomfortable or a rung on some mythical social ladder. I couldn’t think of a way to do it without offending her, so I let her continue.
A handful of Ngobe children stood outside the bodega; the boys in short pants and the girls in colorful Pollera dresses.
Lisa picked out vegetables that her mother requested while I grabbed a bottle of Seco (a rum type liquor) and enough orange sodas for the children outside, Lisa and myself. After paying for the lot, we walked outside and took a seat on the steps with the children. I passed out the drinks and was generously repaid with laughs and smiles all around. One little girl climbed into my lap as if she were my own child. We laughed for a common language, they spoke no Spanish or English and I knew no Ngobe.
The interaction with the children seemed to ease Lisa’s need to impress upon me that she was not an Indian. Obviously, I did not share the regional prejudices.
Entering the little house once again was a remarkably cool relief from the hot Panama sun. I presented the bottle of Seco to Graciela. She thanked me, opened the bottle and began to pour it on the floor.
“Oh damn. I screwed up.” I whispered to Lisa. Shaking her head, she laughed.
“No. She make a blessing.”
Graciela mumbled a few words incoherently to the spirits and took a good long pull straight from the bottle. Unfamiliar with this ritual, I wondered if it had something to do with the reference to bruja painted across the door.
I relaxed and thought that these were definitely my kind of people. I offered to help with dinner and was graciously led through the second room containing a beautifully ornate dining table, antique hutch and extravagant china, to the kitchen, which was an un-walled area covered by a pieced together metal roof, behind the house. Dumbfounded, I noticed that the ceiling was made up of corrugated tin and road signs. It was the sign that read “Caution: Bridge Ices Before Road” that left me speechless. This place was an enigma. A makeshift worktable acted as a food prep area. I felt a sense of belonging while chopping, washing and peeling.
We feasted on colorful dishes; tender polpo (octopus), corvina fish with a variety of spicy and sweet sauces, steamed vegetables and cold fruits. Graciela explained that she had moved to Panama as a teenager from Spain because her father was an engineer with the Panama Canal when the US gave back control in 1977. Against her families better judgment she fell in love with a Ngobe man. She had moved to Bocas Del Toro with the clothes on her back and the dining room furniture that had belonged to her grandmother in Spain. He ran off when she was pregnant the second time with Clari, leaving them to their own devises.
The reference to the witch was gnawing at me. The pouring of the Seco on the floor – little multicolored worry dolls scattered around the house. The diminishing glass of Seco loosened my inhibitions enough to ask when I was distracted by a palmetto bug, big enough for a saddle, scurried across the table. No one seemed to notice or care. I decided to forget about questions and let the conversation continue on its natural course. I learned about the simple life on Bocas Del Toro and they listened to exaggerated tales of my adventures at sea.
Hunger for food and companionship satiated, I slipped into a state of euphoric relaxation. The empty Seco bottle, lying on its side, played no small part I am sure. Lisa suggested, with a look of regret, that since it was getting dark we should start back to Bocas Del Toro. Visions of clinging to rotted planks in shark infested waters with nothing but stars to navigate by, jolted me back to reality.
If I left soon I could make the last water taxi. I would sleep in the jungle with the howler monkeys and poison arrow frogs before I stepped back in that dinghy of death.
Lisa wrapped some leftover food in newspaper insisting I take it with me. Polite pleas from Clari that I take him sailing the next day sounded wonderful; I extended the offer to everyone. Excitedly, they agreed to meet me at the marina in the morning. With hugs and both cheek kisses all around I left the modest but loving jungle home for my reliably lonely sailboat.
Read MoreEat Pray Love vs. The Art of Travel
Like many travelers I endured the romanticized Hollywood ass vomit they call Eat, Pray, Love. The journey through this film was like a quickie against a dumpster behind Joe’s Dragger Inn. A travel film that captures the true spirit of the journey should be a tantric experience, ethereal, raw and well…lacking unicorns. Although I don’t remember actually seeing any unicorns in Eat, Pray, Love… I half expected one to pop out at any moment, and if I ever feel like a dose of mental mutilation I may watch it again just to double check.
Perhaps I sound like a bully with a bad case of low self esteem that has to put down something in order to build up something else. But if I can spare just one would be traveler from the destructive forces behind Eat, Pray, Love that classify it as a “Travel Film” (or book) and bring them into the light of what travel is truly like then it is worth it.
As far as movies go I suppose it was an ok chick flick. Diane Lane was perfect for the part… Oh wait…that was Under the Tuscan Sun… Well add three Polish guys and a stone wall and subtract yet another “Manopausal” guy in search of enlightenment via India and it was the same movie.
A travel film. Hmm. Does it even have a place in the catalogue of genres? European Vacation could be a travel film I suppose. How many times did Chevy Chase make it around the Round About beneath Big Ben? Too funny. Even though there is no Round About next to Big Ben. No one said Hollywood has to get it right.
To gain the title “Travel Film” shouldn’t the film actually embody essence of travel?
My idea of a true travel film seems to differ than the mainstream these days. But since when is a traveler considered to be mainstream? The Art of Travel is a monumental achievement towards capturing life as a traveler. It is about pushing yourself beyond the limits of ordinary life. Every step of the journey is an accomplishment worth celebrating. Boundaries are nonexistent for a traveler. Emotional more so than physical is the workout for the traveler. The Art of Travel rips open the guts of this type of person and lays it bare for the world to see.
If you are even considering heading off to destinations unknown then this film is required.
No need to order it on NetFlix or BlockBuster. Watch it in full right here below…
Read MoreHow to Travel and Trade the FOREX Market; Part I
How to Travel and Trade the FOREX Market; Part I
I am starting this six part series to introduce the world of FOREX Trading to travel lovers. While world travel affords us the opportunity to sever the ties to the 9 to 5, few of us can sever our ties to the reality of expense. FOREX Trading can be one of the best ways to work a few minutes a day, or even once a week to keep the cash flow coming in.
Unlike trading stocks, FOREX trading can begin with a very small amount of money and still produce a great return.
What is FOREX or FOREX MARKET? The Foreign Exchange market (also referred to as the FOREX or FX market) is the largest financial market in the world, with over $1.5 trillion changing hands every day.That is larger than all US equity and Treasury markets combined!Unlike other financial markets that operate at a centralized location (i.e. stock exchange), the worldwide FOREX market has no central location.It is a global electronic network of banks, financial institutions and individual traders, all involved in the buying and selling of national currencies.
Another major feature of the FOREX market is that it operates 24 hours a day, corresponding to the opening and closing of financial centers in countries all across the world, starting each day in Sydney, then Tokyo, London and New York.At any time, in any location, there are buyers and sellers, making the FOREX market the most liquid market in the world.Traditionally, access to the FOREX market has been made available only to banks and other large financial institutions. With advances in technology over the years, however, the FOREX market is now available to everybody, from banks to money managers to individual traders trading retail accounts.
The time to get involved in this exciting, global market has never been better than now. Open an account and become an active player in the largest market on the planet. The FOREX Market is very different than trading currencies on the futures market, and a lot easier, than trading stocks or commodities.
Whether you are aware of it or not, you already play a role in the FOREX market. The simple fact that you have money in your pocket makes you an investor in currency, particularly in the US Dollar. By holding US Dollars, you have elected not to hold the currencies of other nations.Your purchases of stocks, bonds or other investments, along with money deposited in your bank account, represent investments that rely heavily on the integrity of the value of their denominated currency the US Dollar.
Due to the changing value of the US Dollar and the resulting fluctuations in exchange rates, your investments may change in value, affecting your overall financial status.With this in mind, it should be no surprise that many investors have taken advantage of the fluctuation in Exchange Rates, using the volatility of the Foreign Exchange market as a way to increase their capital.Example: suppose you had $1000 and bought Euros when the exchange rate was 1.50 Euros to the dollar. You would then have 1500 Euros.
If the value of Euros against the US dollar increased then you would sell (exchange) your Euros for dollars and have more dollars than you started with.Example:You might see the following:EUR/USD last trade 1.5000 meansOne Euro is worth $1.50 US dollars.The first currency (in this example, the EURO) is referred to as the base currency and the second (/USD) as the counter or quote currency.
The FOREX plays a vital role in the world economy and there will always be a tremendous need for the exchange of currencies.International trade increases as technology and communication increases. As long as there is international trade, there will be a FOREX market. The FX market has to exist so a country like Germany can sell products in the United States and be able to receive Euros in exchange for US Dollar.
RISK WARNING:
Risks of currency trading: Margined currency trading is an extremely risky form of investment and is only suitable for individuals and institutions capable of handling the potential losses it entails. An account with an broker allows you to trade foreign currencies on a highly leveraged basis (up to about 400 times your account equity). The funds in an account that is trading at maximum leverage may be completely lost if the position(s) held in the account experiences even a one percent swing in value, given the possibility of losing one’s entire investment. Speculation in the foreign exchange market should only be conducted with risk capital funds that, if lost, will not significantly affect the investors financial well-being.
START WITH A FREE DEMO TRADING ACCOUNT BY CLICKING HERE
Read MoreThanksgiving Around the World
Thanksgiving Around the World
While Thanksgiving is a traditional American Holiday, different parts of the world have similar holidays to celebrate being thankful for what we have.
One thing I am most thankful for is that I have had the opportunity to live in some of the most beautiful places around the globe.
This year I want to dedicate Thanksgiving to Italy. Living in Italy has provided me with memories that will last forever. Some of those great memories are by far the wonderful tastes of Tuscany.
La Festa del Ringraziamento, translated roughly to, Festival of Thanks will be celebrated in my home this year with some of my favorite recipes from Italy for our own version of an Italian Thanksgiving.
Try some of these courses to add a travelers spice to your own version of Thanksgiving no matter where you are in the world.
AntiPasti
Salvia Fritta (Fried Sage Leaves)
These are best prepared as guests arrive as they must be eaten straight away while piping hot. The recipe is easy to figure out so use amounts appropriate to the amount of guests.
Stripped, washed and dried Sage Leaves.
Egg
Flour
Coarse Salt
Pepper
Light Olive Oil
Allspice
Beat egg and coat sage leaves. Coat with flour and shake off excess. Dip leaves in hot olive oil and fry until golden brown. Remove from oil and sprinkle with salt, pepper and a dash of allspice. Serve with red wine as a guest greeter.
Primi
Roasted Pumpkin and Pear Soup
2 White Onions
3 Cloves Garlic
2 cups Roasted Pears
4 Cups Roasted Pumpkin
4 Tablespoons Butter
Dash Cinnamon
Dash Nutmeg
½ cup Heavy Cream
4 cups Chicken Broth
Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees. Cut pumpkin and pears into large cubes. Place pumpkin on a foil covered baking pan and cook for 30 minutes. Remove pan and add pears. Cook both for an additional 30 minutes. Pumpkin and pears should be at the point where you say “oops I almost burned them”.
Chop onions and garlic and sauté in butter on medium heat until translucent. Add chicken broth and bring to a low boil.
Mash pumpkin and pears and add to the broth carefully. Simmer for 30 minutes. Add cream and bring to a just before boiling point. Pour soup into a terrine and sprinkle top with a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg.
Secondi
Porcini Injected Turkey and Stuffing
This is an easy to play with method for making your Thanksgiving turkey. Every family seems to have their own traditional stuffing so this is just a little twist.
1 pound (roughly depending on turkey size) whole fresh porcini mushrooms.
½ pound Butter
6 Cloves Garlic
Turkey
Stuffing
Melt butter in a saucepan. Put half of the mushrooms in a food processor along with the melted butter and garlic until it turns into a liquid.
Inject the liquid just beneath the skin of the turkey with a syringe. (no needle) A syringe can be obtained at any pet shop. Make sure to evenly inject the liquid over the entire breast area as well as the legs and thighs.
Add the remaining whole mushrooms to the stuffing mixture to add a meaty Italian flair to your traditional turkey.
Contorni
The Thanksgiving meal is all about the side dishes. The contorni are side dishes. Here are two easy ones to add to your list.
Caprese Insalata
Fresh Basil
Tomatoes
Black Olives
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Buffalo Mozzarella
Slice Mozzarella into half inch thick slices. Top with sliced tomato, whole basil leaves and sprinkle with extra virgin olive oil. Garnish with black olives
Almond Asiago
This is a favorite and super easy to make side dish.
1 Block of whole Asiago Cheese
Almond Paste
Crushed Pistachios
Slice Asiago cheese into 1/8th inch slices. Spread a thin layer of almond paste on cheese and sprinkle with crushed pistachios.
Dolci
Choosing an Italian dessert is like choosing your favorite child. It cannot be done. So for arguments sake I am choosing one at random.
This is a simple yet unusual tart that must be tasted to be appreciated. A description will not do it justice. I have had several versions of this but I found a recipe by Deborah Mele that beats them all by a mile.
Crostata
9 Tablespoons Unsalted Butter, Softened
1/2 Cup Granulated Sugar
1 Large Egg
1 Large Egg Yolk
1 Teaspoon Cinnamon
1 1/2 Cups All-purpose Flour
1/2 Cup Finely Ground Cornmeal
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
2 Teaspoons Baking Powder
2 Cups Fruit Jam
Mix together the butter and sugar with a hand mixer until well blended. Add the egg and egg yolk and continue to mix until smooth. In a separate bowl, mix the flour, cornmeal, salt, baking powder and cinnamon. Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture and mix just until the dough comes together.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Take about 3/4 of a cup of the dough mixture and set it aside. Press the remaining dough into the bottom and up the sides of a 10 inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Spoon the jam into the crust and use a spoon to smooth across the bottom crust. Using your fingers, break up the remaining crust mixture into small pea sized pieces and drop along the outer edges of the tart, leaving the center section of jam uncovered.
Bake the tart in the preheated oven for about 20 to 25 minutes or until it is lightly browned. Remove from the oven and allow to come to room temperature before serving.
