Seth's Travelogue

Hey you...

2011-07-05T13:23:00.003+07:00

What are you still doing here? All the action is now at:

beijing mind spill

and

chinese people looking at me

Go on then!

Yours,
Seth

I've moved

2010-11-15T06:43:00.002+07:00

Until I hit the road again, all the blogging fun can be found at Beijing Mind Spill:

http://sethfranciscoleman.com/blog/

See you there!

A Beijing Belly

2010-10-06T20:23:00.002+07:00

IMG_6593.jpg
Originally uploaded by Sven Mook.

I'm starting a series on bellies in Beijing. Here's the first shot.

Posing with a soldier.

2010-10-06T12:42:00.005+07:00

IMG_6795.jpg
Originally uploaded by Sven Mook.

In Tianamen Square.

Flying Free: A guide for those with lots of time and less money

2010-09-09T15:41:00.003+07:00

Normally cross continental flights will cost a chunk of change - often $1000 or more. I was amazed to learn how easy it is to work the airlines for free miles using credit card sign up bonuses as a way of very quickly accumulating enough miles international airfare.

The world of airline mileage clubs is a murky and convoluted one, designed by the airlines for maximum financial benefit for them, and minimum for you. However, with a bit of research and attention to detail, it's fairly easy to turn the tables on them.

First, you have to decide which airline alliance to accumulate miles on. There are 3 main alliances: SkyTeam, One World, and Star Alliance. Each has airlines spanning most global destinations, but it's important to find out which airline has the most airlines serving your departure points and potential destinations. The biggest, and my personal favorite, is the Star Alliance network, but your, ahem, mileage may vary.

Next it's time to start racking up some points for award travel. The slowest and most expensive way is to actually buy tickets on an airline in your chosen alliance, and fly on their airplanes. The way to rack up significant miles quickly though, is by taking advantage of the generous credit card sign up offers linked the airlines' mileage programs.

To see what is available, go to the flyertalk forums which is constantly updated by people who know way more about this than me.

Most credit card deals have a minimum purchase requirement, usually to be completed within x months in order to receive your sweet sweet miles. In case you hadn't planned to spend that much money in that amount of time, you can take advantage of the US Mint's scheme to buy $1 coins online, using a credit card. These are purchased at face value and shipped to you free of charge. You can then spend them, or more likely, head down to your local bank branch to deposit them into your account. Be sure to call your bank to make sure they will accept the deposits before you proceed.

Once you've completed the purchasing requirements, it generally takes a month or two for them to post to your airline frequent flier mileage account, so plan ahead. Once your miles have posted, you can search for awards flights through the airline's website, but sometimes you have to call them to have access to all the award seats of their partner airlines.

For those interested in pursuing this further, I recommend browsing the above mentioned flyertalk forums for much more detailed information regarding the particulars of credit card deals and mileage programs.

Happy Flying!

Bad News Bangkok

2010-05-20T11:09:00.004+07:00

I spent a good chunk of yesterday afternoon monitoring the deteriorating situation in Bangkok yesterday. Here in Vientiane the Scandinavian Bakery has cable TV with all the major Thai networks, as well as CNN. I started out watching Thailand's channel 3, but to my surprise, they stopped covering the news at around 2:30 PM and started showing some cheesy Thai soap! Turning to the internet, I saw that the station's headquarters in Bangkok was under siege and burning, with people trapped inside. Similarly, the Bangkok Post Thai ASEAN news, and many other media outlets were being targeted by the mobs (I don't think they qualify as 'protesters' at this point).

Central World has been gutted by fire after being set aflame when the red shirt leaders surrendered. Fire trucks were prevented from approaching the fire by gunmen, leaving the building to burn. Dozens of fires were being started at bank branches, Thailand's stock exchange building, police boxes, convenience stores, and other places the attackers felt represented the entrenched elite of the country. A curfew was in operation last night between 8PM and 6AM, and looks to be continuing today.

The violence and mayhem has spread upcountry to Chiang Mai and various cities in the northeast. When this madness will end is anybody's guess. It seems the government underestimated the violent intentions of these people when they decided to use force to end the protest. Since their leaders have surrendered, the remaining red shirts(?) are under nobody's orders and are capable of anything.

Here are some interesting links for those wanting more information on what's happening and how it came to this:

Somebody put together this graphic showing Thailand's major political events since Thaksin became Prime Minister in 2001.

Collection of photos from the crackdown on May 19th.

The Thai Visa website has the most timely information from the media that I've found on what's happening now. Go to the last page for the latest updates.

The Bangkok Post was under attack yesterday but is still posting updates on their website.

Latest updates: Curfew to be shortened to 9PM-5AM and extended for the next 3 days. Petrol shortages in Bangkok.

24 hours in Vientiane (Vieng Chan), Laos

2010-05-18T10:46:00.006+07:00

Break your fast with an the omelet special or a flaky pastry at the Scandinavian Bakery near the fountain in the center of town, taking in a week old Bangkok Post, or splash out for the latest Vientiane Times, available at the register. After you've had your fill, head to the morning market (Dalat Sao) for a spot of shopping. This is the best place to pick up a stunning Laos style sarong, a bottle of local liquor with a snake in it, or a bronze cast Buddha.

When the haggling wears you down, regain your serenity at the 16th century temple Haw Phra Kaow . If your nerves need additional calming (and you're not templed out), the nearby Wat Si Saket offers further sanctuary from the pushy tuk tuk drivers outside.

By now it's time for lunch, and in Vientiane you're spoiled for options. Take your pick from excellent (and cheap!) Indian, French, Italian, Laos, and Thai options everywhere you turn.

The weirdest and some would say most interesting sight in the vicinity is the Buddha Park (Xieng Khuan) some 24 km away from central Vientiane, past the friendship bridge. A grassy field strewn with surreal concrete Buddha's, this place is one of a kind and a definite must see. To get there rent a motorbike and drive yourself or get ready to put those bargaining skills to use with a tuk tuk driver.

Next, beat the afternoon heat and practice that butterfly stroke at the Vientiane Swimming Pool near the stadium. Entrance costs 10,000 kip (around $1.20).

As sunset approaches, treat your weary muscles to a super hot sauna and massage with the monks at Wat Sok Pa Luang. It might seem odd to have a sauna in such heat, but it relaxes.

By now it's time for dinner so head to Kop Chai Deu near the fountain for some tasty Laos food and Beer Laos on tap.

Laos nightlife is picking up these days, so head to Samlor Pub for a spot of mixing and dancing, or grab some pals and go for bowling at one of the popular venues. When you've bowled your last frame, head to Future Tech to mingle with a young Laos crowd, or to Don Chan Palace, popular with both Laos and foreigners and open until 4 AM on the weekends.

Off to the Desert

2009-10-10T01:56:00.005+07:00

After much contemplation and mind-changing, I'm fully in the depths of the process of obtaining a visa for Saudi Arabia to take a job teaching university students. I'll be in the States for a few weeks more while the kinks get worked out and pieces are put together, and should hopefully be on my at the end of the month.

If you're in the US and want to hang out before I go, please submit a notarized copy of your birth certificate along with a copy of your passport, signed and with a raised seal from the Secretary of State of your state, a recent VD test result, a letter of intent as to why you would like to hang out, a money order for $16.22 and a self addressed stamp envelope, express USPS mail only, to me. Thank you.

An Alcoholic's Guide to Asia

2009-08-13T05:10:00.017+07:00

Next up in our beverages-in-Asia theme is beer, which is a bit of a sad story. Getting anything other than a pissy lager can be next to impossible - though for intrepid explorers there are some tasty microbrews hiding away in the big cities. For this post however, I'll be focusing only on the widely available beers. Once again, from worst to best:

10. South Korea
I never meant for this to be a Korea bash, but there's just no way around it. Korea's two widely available beers, Cass and Hite, are just awful. Drink it quick and chase it with a bite of bulgogi, and you'll be just fine. Be on the look out for Red Rock, which is as cheap as the others, and better, but not nearly as widely available. One tip: drink some soju (Korean firewater) with your meal, then when you switch to beer you won't be able to taste it as much.

9. India
In India, beer and other alcohol are sold in "wine shops" which are super dodgy-looking counters usually with some sketchy drunk guys hanging around outside. It can feel a bit like you're buying horse or something. In many parts of India alcohol is not easy to get. I didn't really drink much there, but I can remember the beer being nothing at all to write home about. Kingfischer seemed to be the most popular, with a whole slew of indistinguishable others. It's pissy lager. It's said that Indian beer contains glycerine, a preservative which can give you a headache, and to rid the beer of it before consuming you should dunk the top upside-down into a glass of water until the syrupy substance drains out. I've also heard that this is rubbish and doesn't work.

8. Myanmar (Burma)
Myanmar's only local beer, also called Myanmar, is not only crap but also a joint venture with the thuggish government. Better to avoid the stuff and limit your support. If you want to get pissed, find some local palm toddy or rice wine and enjoy with the locals. Even better, you could use Myanmar as an opportunity to get clean for a while, you stinking drunk.

7. Japan
If only as punishment for making happoshu, a kind of beer flavored drink designed to circumvent Japanese high taxes on malt-containing beer, Japan will come next. The beer itself is not THAT bad. Asahi, Sapporo, Kirin, Suntory, take your pick, they're all essentially the same: lame pissy beers.

6. Cambodia
Things start getting blurry around this point, not because I've been sampling each beer as I write, but because the quality of the beers are really indistinguishable. It's a bit like two of Cambodia's beers: Angkor, named after Angkor Wat, and Anchor which is pronounced like anchor, as in boat anchor, presumably because the name Angkor was already taken. Confusing.

5. Thailand
I'm giving Thailand relatively high ratings for the presence of a wide variety of brews. Plenty of imports like Heineken and Tiger, plus the local beers, the most widely available of which are Chang, Leo, and Singh. Chang is notable for it's cheap price and high alcohol content, 6.9% if memory serves. Leo is usually the same price with a slightly lower alcohol content and slightly better taste. Singh has a distinctive taste, and a tamer 5% alcohol. My Thai teacher once told me he drinks Chang because he's "kikiat chee", lazy to piss.

4. Singapore
For me, Singapore's national brew Tiger ranks highly on the pissy-beer scale. Your taste buds may or may not agree.

3. Laos
Most travelers in SE Asia swear by Beer Laos. It does seem to have a fresher, cleaner taste than a lot of the others. As we say back in Olympia, "It's the Water".

2. Indonesia
Bintang is the name of Indonesia's surprisingly tasty suds. For a Muslim country, they know how to whip up some good booze.

1. Philippines
San Miguel is from the Philippines, and while it might not be the absolute top beer on this list, it gets extra points for being really cheap. It tastes good, comes in several varieties including extra-strong "Red Horse" (be careful), and is available everywhere. Goodonya, Philippines.

A Coffee Addict's Guide to Asia

2009-08-08T10:10:00.014+07:00

I admit it, I'm hopelessly addicted to coffee, and if you're like me then you need your fix as much when you're bunking with New Guinean natives as when you're at home base. What follows are the results of years of research in the East. Starting from the worst and leading to the best, I'll take you through the ins and outs of coffee drinking in six Asian countries.

6. South Korea (kopi)
Far and away the worst of all Asian coffee destinations, and possibly the earth, Korea lands dead last for joe-hounds. What's worse, coffee isn't some obscure drink overshadowed by a superior local beverage - coffee is actually extremely popular here, and widely available in all sorts of crappy varieties. In general, it's instant coffee, the most popular being the 3-in-1 coffee, cream, and sugar mix. Just add water and if no spoon is available, stir with the unopened end of the stick shaped pouch. It only goes downhill from there, leading ultimately to the machine coffee found at the entrance of most restaurants. All the machine does is take extremely crappy instant coffee, and mixes in cream and sugar according to your choice. This stuff is the bottom of the barrel. It tastes like ass. It would be nice if you could just swear off coffee in Korea, but trust me, you're really going to need it in Korea to get through your day.

Stay well away from: Any and all machine coffee. It tastes like instant coffee made yesterday, mixed with sour milk and ball sweat.
Your best bet: Espresso-style coffee is making serious headway in Korea, and if you're willing to splash out you can get a good cup at Starbucks or one of the local varients like Holly's. They are super expensive though, often more than in the US. For a better price-to-quality ratio try Dunkin Donuts or, gulp, McDonalds.

5. Japan (kohi)
Welcome to the land of canned coffee. The variety is astounding: Black, sweet, milky, strong, weak, and available hot or cold from vending machines and conbini's (convenience stores) everywhere. The stuff is crap but might grow on you if you stay long enough.

Stay well away from: The coffee-flavored tea available in conbinis. OK, it's sold as coffee, but it's just a tea bag with coffee grounds, to be added to hot water, making what amounts to yes, coffee flavored tea. Beware.
Your best bet: It might be worthwhile to spring for the chains here. In addition to plentiful Starbucks there are a handful of local varients. A bit more affordable, comparatively, than Korea.

4: India (coffee)
In the north of India, tea (called chai) is king, but in the south coffee is drunk side by side at the tea-and-coffee wallas. It's all instant, and is really more coffee flavored than actual coffee. Like the chai, it's made with copious amounts of milk and sugar, rendering it quite unrecognizable as coffee. Still, it's pretty tasty.

Stay well away from: Unboiled water.
Your best bet: You'll probably do better just sticking to the tasty chai here.

3: Thailand (Ga-fae)
Coffee comes in many varieties in Thailand, the oldest (and cheapest) way being "bag coffee" (ga-fae tung). It's a dirty looking bag of coffee grounds dipped in hot water, making quite a strong brew, and mixed with large amounts of condensed milk. This takes some serious getting used to, but some, including myself, have come to enjoy it. You can, and probably should, ask for less than the full dose of condensed milk (sai nom nit noi). Otherwise, streetside espresso is catching like wildfire, or for a cooler environment for drinking, try any of the chain places.

Stay well away from: Stale beans. It sometimes pays to give the merchandise a sniff for freshness if the place looks like they don't do much business.
Your best bet: It's often worthwhile in Thailand to just go for that latte at the classy joint. It still won't be that expensive.

2. Vietnam/Cambodia/Laos
Laos and Cambodia have mostly followed the Vietnamese style of brewing coffee, which involves brewing individual cups drip style in a little metal apparatus which sits on top of the cup. Here coffee stands out for the quality of the beans, and Vietnam and Laos grow their own stuff. Vietnam is a huge coffee exporter, though mostly of the cheaper robusta variety. Here it's generally served up black so you can doctor it the way you like it.

Stay well away from: Anything that seems expensive, because this stuff should be super cheap.
Your best bet: It's all good here. Drink up!

1: Indonesia (Kopi)
Aaaah, the promised land of Asian coffee, it doesn't get better than Indonesia. Sumatra is famous the world over, but there are dozens of islands with their own distinctive bean, and they're all fiercly proud of it. Sample them all! Here coffee is drunk in the Turkish style - ground to a powder and mixed with boiling water, so don't drink that last bit!

Stay well away from: Yes it's good, but resist the urge to polish off that last sip unless you like eating mud.
Your best bet: It's so good you'll want to take a bag home with you - so go for it!

Hope you found it helpful. Did I miss something? Leave a comment!

Some Like it Hot

2009-08-01T06:20:00.013+07:00

Who amongst us hasn't dreamed of seeing lava close up, to witness with our eyes that blood of the earth in it's pure, liquid form? Enter Volcan Pacaya, a highly active volcano within striking distance of Antigua, that touristy anomaly outside of Guatemala's capital. To get there involves a short ride to the volcano and a hike of about one and a half hours to the top, where you can get within feet of a veritable river of lava. Some in our group brought marshmallows to roast - I brought hot dogs, inciting the furious envy of many. They cook quickly, as one might expect them to over molten rock.

At the top we were free to roam around, throw objects into the lava, leap between crevices with lava glowing brightly below, melting the soles of our shoes. The smallest hiccup of the volcano could send lava gushing into the air, falling from the sky in some apocalyptic nightmare, and this has all happened before, but today we have luck, and the volcano behaves itself.

The guides struggled to pull us away from the lava and get us back to safety. The rain was coming and the night falling. Half of the descent was in dark and fog, and only a few had flashlights. We all managed to make it back as the night took hold, and in the distance we could see now, in the pitch black, the glowing orange oozing down the side of the mountain. We rode back to Antigua soaked from the rain and wishing we could have taken a lava souvenir with us to warm the ride.

Nicaragua Seeks Energy Diversification in National Dish

2009-07-18T05:57:00.004+07:00

Managua, Nicaragua
A spokesperson for the Ministry of Energy and Mines in Nicaragua announced plans to use methane gas, a major by-product of it´s national dish Gallo Pinto, as a new source of energy. The ubiquitous dish, made of rice and beans, could yield more methane by slightly undercooking the beans, the spokeperson said. In an independence day speech addressing the issue, president Daniel Ortega said "By harnessing the methane output of the entire population, Nicaragua can attain energy independence. We can free ourselves from reliance on foreign nations."
Nicaragua is already on the cutting edge of renewable energy, particularly in the field of geothermal power, thanks to plentiful active volcanoes. Renewable sources account for 25% of the nation´s energy.

Into the Nicaraguan Wilds

2009-07-01T22:02:00.003+07:00

Today I pack my life in Granada up and move on to Esteli, a cooler mountain destination near coffee plantations and famous for it's fine cigars. Goodbye, fair Granada, with all your hot dog stands and colorful houses. Goodbye, Goodbye, fair Lake Nicaragua, and Mombacho Volcano. All the best.

Glue Sniffers Offering Joints to Girls in Wet T-Shirts

2009-06-24T21:47:00.008+07:00

I'm guessing that title will rack up the greatest number of hits in the travelogue's history.
I took a weekend trip to Volcan Masaya, an active volcano. It's pretty cool as you can walk right up to a massive, smoking crater which native people once chucked human sacrifices into to appease the spirit residing inside. There was a small eruption in 2002, sending smoldering boulders 500m into the air and crashing down in the parking lot, damaging cars and narrowly missing people. Neat!

Instead of heading straight back to Granada, I decided to spend the weekend enjoying the fresh-ish waters of Laguna da Apoyo, a wonderful swimming spot nearby. There, I dived, swam, and floated my way to total relaxation. Saturday evening was spent learning Swedish drinking games supplemented by hearts and rum.

Oh yeah, and apparently there were some bad local guys hanging out on the diving platform sniffing glue and offering joints, which I didn't see, but upset some of the other guests. The glue sniffing part, not the joints. Though who really wants to smoke joints with dudes who are sniffing glue? Obviously there would have been some girls around in wet t-shirts too, since it's right on the lake's edge.

Nicaragua, the First Week

2009-06-19T23:52:00.004+07:00

¡Hola Amigos!

I'm currently in the former Spanish colonial town of Granada, Nicaragua, studying in a Spanish language school while re-adapting to the mosquitoes and humidity of the tropics. Granada's quite touristy, and I may have to move somewhere with fewer gringos to get a true feel for the country. It's not a bad place to adjust to Latin America though, a kind of halfway house, before entering the untamed wilds of the real Nicaragua.

Classes are going fine, and in a week we've pretty much covered, and gone beyond, all that I learned in two years in high school. Thanks, Mrs. Wagner (if that is your real name)!

I'm staying with a family to get the true immersion experience, though my conversations with them have been pretty limited. Mostly I talk to the Dad, Julio, who hates Daniel Ortega. I can't work out how he, or any other family member, makes a living, but they're friendly enough. They seem to be a typical Nicaraguan family of modest means.

Weird things I've noticed so far:
1. On the television news, they always play these strange beeping noises in the background. I guess it's meant to give the news a sense of urgency. The whole TV news thing is pretty low budget... During the weather report they just zoomed a camera onto a computer screen to show the day's satellite weather movements.

2. Las Bombas. Starting at 4 AM, one can hear loud bangs going off. At first I thought they were gunshots, then I figured it must be backfiring cars, but finally I asked and found out they are celebratory firecrackers. I still can't figure out exactly what they're meant to celebrate (saints, holidays, ???) but they go off pretty regularly throughout the day, every day. They're quite loud but the Nicaraguans don't even seem to hear them.

I'm taking a weekend trip to Masaya Volcano and Laguna de Apoyo.

Hasta Luego.

Out of Asia

2009-06-15T11:27:00.006+07:00

Well folks, after reflecting on my many travels throughout Asia over the past 5 years I though it might do me well to expand my horizons and see what another corner of the world is like. This line of thought brought me to Nicaragua, where I've been for 24 hours. You'll have to excuse the lack of photographs in this post as I'm slowly but surely working up the courage to whip $1000 worth of equipment out into the open.

The first story I heard upon arrival in my Managua hostel (Managua Backpackers Inn, highly recommended, run by the delightful and helpful David) last night was one from a pair of American girls who had been held up at knife point in a car whom they were talked into sharing with some friendly ladies expounding on the benefits of shared taxi over buses. What these kindly ladies didn't mention was that they were in cahoots with the drivers, and after a few clever moves to put the gringas at ease, such as filling up on petrol and driving in the direction they were ostensibly traveling, knives were pulled and the girls were informed, in a pretty civilized way it seems, that this was in fact a robbery and they'd be taking the girls' cash and ATM cards, as well as their PIN numbers. The thieves proceeded to the ATM machine to withdraw the cash, with the girls still in custody, and only after the cash had been withdrawn did they let the girls go, assuring them that if they walked straight "we'll throw your backpacks out of the car as we drive away" which, as you might have guessed by now, they didn't.

The girls seemed admirably unfazed by the experience, considering they had lost everything but the clothes on their backs. Oh, also the perpetrators allowed them to keep their passports and enough local cash to get them to a hotel. How thoughtful.

As a result of this rather chilling tale I've started my time here in full alert mode, highly suspicious of those just-a-little-too-friendly strangers, which is probably a good thing and I'm doing my best not to allow that to interfere with experiencing to the fullest this beautiful country and it's people, the vast majority of whom are the loveliest of folks.

Tomorrow I start Spanish language school here in Granada, which I'm pretty chuffed about.

The Greatest Water Fight in the World

2009-04-22T15:48:00.019+07:00

In the middle of April, the hottest month in this part of the world, the people of Myanmar, Thailand, Cambodia and Laos celebrate the local New Year with a massive countrywide water festival, called Thingyan here, and Songkran in Thailand. I spent the holiday in Mandalay, Myanmar, where it's celebrated with an added vigor. Some locals liken it to "four days of democracy", a very special thing in a country normally kept under tight wraps by a military junta. Four days of anarchy might be a better description, but who's splitting hairs?

Participating countries celebrate the festival with local twists, but simply put, it's a celebration of water and a chance to make a fresh start in the new year, and wash away all of the worries, anxieties, and problems of the preceding one. Though it has it's roots in Hindu tradition, it has devolved in modern times to the simple pleasure of being wet in the insane heat that is the Southeast Asian summer.

Anyone venturing beyond their front door during the four days of the festival will be surely and completely soaked from head to toe, no question about it. In the baking month of April this comes as a relief to most, as long as the necessary defence of plastic has been carefully wrapped around any money, mobile phones, and anything else of value. Children form street posses of water warriors with a singular mission: to drench any living thing that passes by their post. Adults get in on the fun too, by packing into pick-up trucks modified to accommodate dozens of standing, screaming revelers, and driving around the streets whooping and throwing ice cold water on those they pass.

On the sides of roads are great raised stages armed with dozens of hoses, known as pandals, from which those lucky enough to have a spot can spray anyone passing beneath. Teenagers dance beneath furiously in the monsoon atmosphere to Thingyan songs, fueled by local whiskey, rum, beer and worst (and cheapest) of all, gut wrenching rice liquor.

By midday, the streets of Mandalay are hopelessly flooded, with motorbikes and rust bucket trucks, engines flooded, grind to a halt in the newly formed lakes. Add booze, vehicles loaded to the brim, and blinding amounts of water and what do you get? An emergency services nightmare in a country without any emergency services to speak of. But for the lucky, the party goes on until nightfall, when the water throwing (mostly) stops.

Foreigners, far from being exempt, are prized targets in the melee, and many locals are keen to practice their English as they attack: "This Myanmar water festival!" (oh really?) or "Are you happy?" (I was until you nearly knocked my eye out of it's socket with that fire hose). But alas, as so often in Asia, my witty replies are wasted.

It's no wonder that many, having grown up with this most racous of festivals, choose to enter one of the many meditation centers in the country. After all, insight meditation could well rival water fights for those seeking cleansing of the soul.

I can't help but think of Children's Day, celebrated with candies or some such thing in some other countries. If those children knew the what wonders wait in store for the children of Myanmar every April, they would surely renounce their citizenships and be on the first plane to this impoverished country, children being children.

Did I enjoy it? My favorite water festival is still the first I experienced in Laos 5 years ago, where the festival felt a little more tame and traditional - and a little less warlike. Four days is maybe excessive (in Thailand it's three), but I'll always have fond memories of this utterly insane festival that makes my own country's biggest holidays look like a staid evening at the opera.

For more photos from the festival, click the flickr bar on the right.

Best of Bali

2009-03-18T18:47:00.004+07:00

I make no apologies for my lazy blogging but I would like to catch up any followers who haven't written me off yet.

My first night I stayed in Kuta (close to the airport), but quickly got fed up with the hordes of Australian teens and made a move to Ubud, where I based myself for most of my Bali time. In Ubud I met a lot of locals and had time to just relax and soak in Balinese culture rather than the Western Beach Vacation/Cancun-style atmosphere of Kuta. I should note that I later went back to Kuta to try my hand at surfing, and I think I did rather well.
Ahem, ok so that's not me. But I did try surfing, which was good fun aside from swimming through piles of plastic which cover the water of Kuta Beach. I even stood up! If only I had a picture...

I could easily have spent the month in Bali, but I decided to hop over to the "Gili Islands" off the coast of Lombok (I use quotes because although that is what they are referred to as, it is clearly some tourist perversion as "Gili" means island, so it would be like saying the Island Island's... anyway... More on the Gili's later.

Now I'm getting my ducks in a row for a one month expedition in Myanmar. I fly out on Friday and come back a month later. Internet is pretty spotty there so I probably won't be updating the blog until I get back.

You can see many of my pictures taken in Bali here.

And how are you?

Travelogue becomes travelogue again

2009-02-14T11:20:00.004+07:00

I've run run run away from the cold of NE Asia and into the warm humid bosom of SE Asia. Tomorrow morning I'm going to the southern hemisphere for the first time ever (!), to Bali, Indonesia. For now I'm taking care of business in Bangkok, getting some much needed refloxology done and teeth cleaned. It's hot and I'm happy.

Fed Seeks Mugabe's Advice

2008-12-17T17:51:00.006+07:00

The federal reserve has been in contact with Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe to request assistance in devaluing the US dollar. With national debt levels soaring, the fed aims to inflate it's way out of debt, leaving China, Saudi Arabia, and US citizens with piles of greenish paper with pictures of dead guys. Mugabe's success in beating money into submission is well documented. The Zimbabwean dollar, known throughout Zimbabwe as 'fucking shit', is currently experiencing inflation rates of 13 quadrillion percent (13000000000000000%).
On Mugabe's advice, the fed reduced it's target interest rate to 0%, and purchased a quadrillion more printing presses.

Guide to Seoul Street Biking

2008-10-14T18:27:00.011+07:00

Some of these surely apply to urban biking in general, but here it is - my guide to Seoul street biking:

1) Don't trust anybody, especially taxis and buses. Don't trust vehicles to stop at red lights, go the correct way on one way streets, not cut you off, or anything else. This is the golden rule.

2) Pedestrians are idiots. If you ring your bell, most people will turn around and dumbly stare at you instead of getting out of the way. Still, use the bell often, and well in advance to give people time to get over their stupefaction. I now ring my bell almost constantly out of habit. Makes for nice ad-hoc music too.

3) Run red lights and break all traffic laws if it means getting away from the bulk of traffic. Don't be dumb about it, but it is actually safer to stay away from other vehicles, so do this as much as possible.

4) Watch out for doors. This is crucial. Look inside cars to see if there are passengers about to hop out, and always try to leave space between yourself and stopped (or slow moving!) cars. I've never been doored but I've almost been doored, and that is not an adventure I'd like to have.

5) It's often safer in the road than on the sidewalk. Cars plow into sidewalks from side streets. Trucks park in sidewalks, often completely blocking them. Motorbikes speed on sidewalks. Sometimes the sidewalks suddenly become dead ends for bikes because there are only pedestrian overpasses at intersections and no crosswalks. Use your best judgment.

Seoul can be a great city for biking for those with balls of steel! Stay safe!

Mugabe Tapped in McCain Campaign

2008-10-11T19:26:00.014+07:00

Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe has been hired by the McCain campaign to assist in bringing American hearts and minds to the Republican candidate. The African leader "has been remarkably successful at winning elections in the face of public opposition" said a McCain staffer who declined to be named. Fox News analyst Karl Rove praised the move saying "If I was running, he would be the first one on my campaign team". Although Mugabe has been criticized in the past for his unorthodox campaigning techniques, "he knows how to get the job done" said Rove.
Mugabe staffer hard at work

Central Bankers Meet, Agree on Bat Signal Use

2008-10-09T05:57:00.026+07:00

In an unprecedented move, central bankers from nations around the world unveiled a plan Thursday morning to return the bat signal to service in an effort to arrest the deepening financial crisis. Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson made the following statement:

The time has come for a coordinated response to this crisis. A piecemeal approach has not, and will not work - therefore my colleagues and I have decided to send in the big guns. The Dark Knight has proven himself capable numerous times against foes such as the Penguin, the Catwoman, and most recently against the Joker. I have full confidence in his ability to restore stability to our markets and the general economy.

Traders responded positively in the hours following the announcement, but doubts about the plan surfaced in late trading, erasing earlier gains. One investment banker from Goldman Sachs questioned the move.

Isn't that guy just from a movie? It's so hard to remember what's real and what's made up these days. I mean, that Beautiful Mind guy is real, right? But what about the Nicholas Cage character in The Rock? The point is, even if Batman responds, what can he do to ease the current crisis? Sometimes it seems like central bankers have no control and just make these kinds of statement to calm the markets.

The announcement came after coordinated cuts in interest rates around the world, which yesterday were announced within seconds of each other, failed to invigorate markets.
The bat signal is thought to be kept in storage in Brazil. Paulson admitted that it could take some time to find the spotlight and restore it to operation. "Those cornholes over at Warner Brothers better not have burned out the light," he added "those things are nearly impossible to find."

Korean Won Plunges, Language Teacher Storms Out of Classroom

2008-10-08T19:17:00.014+07:00

The Korean won continued it's precipitous plunge today, leaving the beleaguered currency at around 1400 to the dollar, a 35% drop since January. Jared Schmidt, a Canadian kindergarten teacher at a Seoul language school threatened to 'pull a runner' unless the situation turned around soon.
"Dude, this is bullshit. If you think I'm gonna chase a bunch of little rugrats around this place for kimchee and a few bucks, you're out of your mind."
Local traders were pessimistic about the won's outlook, stating that "the won has certainly not won the current round, nor will it be likely to have won anytime in the near future."
Jared was checking the currency rate on his mobile phone during a phonics lesson when he noticed the new 10 year lows.

I just had the phone out to use the dictionary to look up "diarrhea" in Korean, because one of the kids was insisting on using the bathroom and kept saying this word that I thought might be that, when I noticed the rate. I was so pissed that I just walked out. I'm seriously gonna dump this job unless this gets better soon. I mean, I could go to Taiwan or something. I hear they're always looking for kindy teachers, and I really like the bubble tea they have over there.

In related news, a sharp drop in Cambodian and Vietnamese bride buying by single Korean men has been reported, as the women of those countries are increasingly unwilling to go to a country with a weaker currency than their own.

Presidential Politics

2008-09-27T10:02:00.003+07:00

I get most of my news from the internet these days which has the virtue of being unmitigated by large corporations with a mind-controlling agenda. Just in case anyone who reads this blog didn't see this exemplary answer to a question from Katie Couric about the government bailout from hockey mom Sarah Palin, here it is:

Wha wha whaaaaaaat?!?!? Folks, this is scary. I don't know whether to go into a laughing fit, or cry. Just for fun, let's compare that with Ms. South Carolina:

Seth's Travelogue, Back By Popular Demand

2008-09-18T17:20:00.004+07:00

Last I checked commuting does not qualify as traveling, but when doing so by bicycle on Korean roads it at least qualifies as adventurous. Seriously, Koreans can't drive. Does that sentence make me racist? Ah, F*ck it. As pointed out by my dear readers, it's been ages since the last post. Where to begin? Well basically I've been working in the Korean public school system and getting a crash course in teaching youngsters the esteemed international language known as English. As the only foreigner there, as well as the only foreigner ever to have been there in the school's 100+ year history, I get plenty of attention. Most of the attention I never find out about. It takes the form of hushed rumors spread around the halls like Californian wildfire. It's actually a little bit like being a presidential candidate, with a heavy dose of mistranslation mixed in.
Which brings me to today's Link of the Day for Other People Getting Paid to Surf the Internet
Dokdo is ours
is a satirical website about Korea which might not be funny to people unfamiliar with Korean culture, but absolutely hysterical if you have lived here. Please check it out and if I'm wrong about that assumption, let me know. I'm curious. For those who don't know, Dokdo is the Korean name for a couple disputed islets (read=worthless rocks) in the sea of Japan, I'm sorry, East Sea. Here's a picture of that sea, taken last weekend.

And that's that. What's up with you?

Show and Tell

2008-07-25T17:47:00.003+07:00

garfield minus garfield

Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life? Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness in a quiet American suburb.

Shake Girl, The Graphic Novel

Shake Girl represents a massive collaborative effort from 17 people dedicated to completing a graphic novel in just a few weeks. It was finished in early 2008 and is now available online for free.

The creation of Shake Girl was based on a series of true events that have happened to real women.

FreeRice

FreeRice has two goals:

1. Provide English vocabulary to everyone for free.
2. Help end world hunger by providing rice to hungry people for free.

Jeonju International Film Festival 2008

2008-05-05T09:15:00.006+07:00

Seats are in short supply at this festival for those who can't plan ahead (me). I was able to catch the all-night horror movie extravaganza on Saturday night. Cleaner and far more sober than the annual All Freakin' Night at the Olympia Film Festival, the tickets to this included snack breaks of bananas and milk between movies, and no one got hit in the head by empty beer bottles thrown from the balcony.

Next stop was the Jjimjilbang (public bath), open 24 hours. With 3 floors, the upper is the men's bath, the lower the women's, and the middle a free-for-all sleeping area. A few hours of slumber put some gas in my tank.

Mountains of Seoul

2008-04-27T09:01:00.012+07:00

Springtime in Seoul means mountain climbing season. Locals flood to the bases of Seoul's many 'mini' mountains for day hikes. Last Saturday, I was invited to ascend Gwanaksan near Seoul National University in the southern reaches of the city.
When a city of 10 million people heads for the hills, you can imagine the congestion.
Getting away from it all

Towards the top, the beauty of spring:

And views of Seoul:

Seth's Travelogue throws it's support behind Obama

2008-03-24T00:30:00.003+07:00

Let the silence be broken. This blog officially supports Barack Obama in the upcoming U.S. presidential election. The kind of intelligence and sincerity in his speech on race is impossible to fake. After eight years of systematic degradation to our country's well-being and reputation, we need a leader who can speak intelligently, act responsibly, think analytically and make wise decisions.

It's Just Paper

2008-03-18T05:26:00.011+07:00

I'm back in the States for a quick stopover - just in time, it seems, to watch the country's economy plummet into complete chaos. Fortunately, Mr. GW Bush was on the scene today to reassure the public that "In the long run, our economy is going to be fine". Fox News reports that Mr. Bush also said he was "on top of the situation". Let's have a quick look at today's announcements:

Whew! I was worried for a second that the federal reserve had lost control of the financial system and was furiously printing dollars in order to bail out banks, thereby further diluting the value of the already pathetic dollar... oh wait, that's exactly what's happened, and from all signs will continue to happen. In effect, you, me, and everyone else who holds dollars is subsidizing the stupidity and greed of the financial institutions that allowed this to happen.

The principles are fairly easy to understand. The more money you print, the more there is in circulation, the more money in circulation, the less each dollar is actually worth. That's inflation. There are examples throughout history, like the Weimar Republic in 1930's Germany, the 1970s in this country, the list goes on. The federal reserve is panicking, throwing money around, and wreaking havoc on the poor little dollar. This will certainly not turn around tomorrow, nor probably this year or next.

Considering I have no money I'm not in the most authoritative position to be giving financial advice to those who do, but well this is my blog so I'm gonna do it any damn way (and there are plenty of financial experts behind me. Get rid of your dollars. Buy Gold. Do it now. Yeah, I hear you say, but gold is freakin' expensive right now. What if I shell out a thousand bucks for a gold coin, and tomorrow the dollar recovers and gold drops back down to reality? Well friend, you can be damn sure that's not gonna happen, what with the fed's printing presses coughing up greenbacks like, quite literally, there's no tomorrow.

But wait, what about that economic stimulus package that was signed into law? Won't that give the tired ol' economy a shot in the arm? I heard the IRS was going to send out checks for $600 in May! Aside from the obvious question of where the hell is this $140 billion coming from, considering the current account deficit, May is an awfully long time from now. That was clearly an election year political maneuver aimed at elating the very short-sighted, like a $2000 hand-job charged to a credit card.http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

Let's face it: economies have ups and and downs. They are cyclical. You can't have a booming, growing economy now and forever after. That's just not the way economies, or anything, really, works. The U.S. has been consuming far more than it produces, and far more than it's share of the world's resources for some time, and it looks as though that time is coming to an end. Accept it. Let a few weak and stupid banks fall. Today it's Bear Stearns, tomorrow there will be another. What kind of message does it send to private banks if they can be assured that the government will throw away everything to save them when their risky investments lead to disaster?

Swallow the medicine: have a recession. Let unemployment rise. Let consumer spending fall. There is no way to avoid it, but there is a hell of a lot of harm to be done by staying in denial about it. Hey, maybe when gas costs $6 a gallon like in most of the rest of the world Americans will have second thoughts about buying that bad-boy SUV and opt for a Prius.... or a bike?

Bangkok in Photos: Khlong Saen Saeb

2008-03-06T04:11:00.006+07:00

Khlong Saen Saeb: The last remnants of the canal transportation system in a city once dubbed "The Venice of the East". Most canals have been filled in and converted to roads, but this one has survived. A putrid odor emanates from the dead, oxygen deprived water, particularly in the hot season when the water levels are low, but if you can put up with the smell and the possibility of splash, this is one of the fastest, cheapest ways to penetrate the heart of Bangkok.

50 years ago, life along the canals must have been lovely with frogs, flowers and birds in abundance. Not much lives in that water now aside from bacteria, but I have heard of a certain breed of walking amphibious fish that populates the canal and the lands nearby.
Money is collected by boat staff who trot dexterously around the outer ledge of the boat.
Here, a boat pulls into the central pier at Pratunam.

Khao Sarn Road

2008-02-29T10:17:00.003+07:00

Khao Sarn Road (KSR), for those who haven't had the pleasure, is the ultimate backpacker's ghetto in Bangkok. By day it does brisk business in Thai tourist trinkets, bags, shirts, books, fake university degrees and such - but KSR exists for the night. The real excitement takes place under gaudy neon. Katoey (lady-boy) look for unknowing Johns straight off the plane, who haven't yet learned that Thai women never have deep voices and big hands. Pickpockets have a heyday with the drunkards. Taxi drivers loiter about searching for someone to "take for a ride". It's a concentration of the worst of Bangkok, but it's a brilliant spot for people watching.

KSR is not Bangkok at all, but a kind of vortex that pulls tourists in, and doesn't allow them to leave. Inconveniently located away from the city center, it takes great motivation and strength of mind for the average visitor to leave the road and see other parts of Bangkok, which is a great shame. I would assert that if all you've seen of it is KSR, you haven't actually been to Bangkok. It's like transiting in Istanbul and saying you've been to Turkey. You've just been in the waiting lounge.

The Many Faces of Kuala Lumpur

2008-02-13T02:00:00.000+07:00

Walk down the street in Kuala Lumpur and the variety of Asian ethnicity really blows me away. Smiling, headscarf donning young Muslim women mix with Indian women in saris, Chinese in business suits, and so on. Refreshingly, caucasion faces are rather few. This is, after all, Asia. I've not been in a country before with such a variety of Asian ethnicities living together, and as a first time visitor it looks like a great model of different races with different beliefs living together in peace. After talking to friends I've come to realize the situation is not as perfect as it seems.

The primary racial groups are the ethnic Malays, and then the Chinese and Indian minorities. Malays are granted a certain amount of preferential treatment in university admission and government job placements, among other things, but the other side of the coin is that they have additional prohibitions placed on them by law, like being unable to eat pork, which the other ethnic groups are not subject to.

Things move along with relative peace, but there are deeper underlying problems with the current arrangement, which reached a bloody climax in 1969 when the ruling coalition was momentarily deprived of power in place a of a pro-chinese party, resulting in street violence with the Chinese being targeted specifically and suffering the worst as people were killed and business burned.

It's a complex subject that I have an admittedly basic Understanding of, and it's tempting to say that, well, today's Malaysia is among the most prosperous nation in South-East Asia, so why rock the political boat? But that is exactly the justification the goverment puts forth to stay in power. If you take us out of power, they say, you'll be inviting a repeat of the bloody events of '69. Malaysia is under pretty heavy surveilence by a sort of secret police, and the media doesn't enjoy nearly the freedom I'm seen in places like Thailand, the Philippines, or even Cambodia.

And on I go about a subject that I know little about. Any Malaysians care to comment?

All that said, I had a brilliant time in the country and met lots of interesting people, thanks to my gracious hosts, Sze and Spes. Thanks guys!

The Subterranean River at Sabang

2008-01-28T10:50:00.000+07:00

Like entering the mouth of some mythical beast, the boat journey into this, the longest known navigable underground river on earth, is an awe inspiring moment. The darkness sucks the 8 man paddle boat into it's womb and the only thing seperating you from the pitch black is a light and car battery.

As you journey further into the depths the guide points out rock formations in the caves. There's it is, a mushroom. And over to your left, the virgin Mary. Look closely fellas, a naked female form is just around the next corner. Do you see the banana flower?

Actually the rock growths and formations could be anything your mind wants, like an inkblot test that envelops you, and the guides' constant suggestions become an annoyance seperating your from what could be a truly meditative experience.

All in all the trip was unforgettable. It's a shame that along with easier accessibility (the road was built in the early 90's - before that you had to take a boat some three hours up the coastline, through devil's point, a dangerous whirlpool) comes hordes of tourists and the corresponding price hikes, crowds, and waits. I must have seen too many Indiana Jones movies.

Sea Woes, Bad Meat, and Russian Cinema

2008-01-27T15:45:00.000+07:00

First off, let me apologize for the lack of photos in my recent posts. There's a lot of pitfalls on the road to getting photos online when traveling. I won't bore you with the details. I'll be going back and adding them to the posts at a later date.

I awoke to the sounds of chickens. It must be morning, I thought. But no, outside it was still dark. Where was I? The swaying motion brought it rushing back. I'm on a boat. Why are there chickens on the boat? I hadn't noticed them the night before. Maybe they're coming from some distance, somewhere outside, a nearby island. No, they're too loud. My head was groggy. Shouldn't have had that beer. I had to pee. I'm too lazy to pee. I struggled to get back to sleep, ignoring the pleas of my bladder. Why do they leave the bright florescent lighting on all night? I expertly positioned a sheet over my eyes.

Suddenly, we were docking. Must be the Cuyo islands. We're gonna be here for 7 hours, until 3 P.M. What are we supposed to do all day? The ticket vendor had said they had to unload a lot of goods. But 7 hours? At least this will get us to Puerto Princessa in the morning rather than at night.

Maybe the Cuyo islands are nice. I can do some sightseeing. Check out the town. Eat real food. My bowels ached. I'd had nothing but MSG-laden snacks all the day before, not out of choice but because I hadn't had any time. I'd planned to have plenty of time. Where did I go wrong? I barely made the boat. It was the traffic in Ilo Ilo city on the way to the port. There was a festival starting. It had thrown my calculations off.

So here we are in the middle of the Sulu sea, on a rural little island. All I want is some nice food. There has to be something good to eat here. It's sometimes hard to find good food in the Philippines. They're big on the buffet-which-has-been-sitting-out-all-day style of restaurant, and big into meat too. It scares me. My mission this afternoon will be to find a good, wholesome meal. I will reward my stomach for 25 years of good service, overlooking the 6 weeks in India last year. I'm a generous employer. I want to eat fresh vegetables, sanitary protein sources, and rice without rocks in it - is that too much to ask? The boat has food, but it's buffet style and scary. I am a Russian soldier from Battleship Potemkin. Take back your rotting, maggot ridden meat! This is a mutiny! Throw the captain overboard! Storm the palaces! We won't take it anymore!

Screw the Jet, Get Your Feet Wet!

2008-01-24T09:23:00.000+07:00

One of the highlights of traveling around the archipelago that is the Philippines is that it affords me the opportunity to ride on many a boat, one of my favorite forms of transport. The country abounds with reasonably priced airlines to whisk people from place to place, but I prefer the simplicity and old-time romanticism of boat travel. There's nothing quite like gazing out onto the open sea, witnessing strings of uninhabited craggy coastlines, and breathing in the salty air.

I'm now in Boracay, a tourist trap of a beach that I ended up at because of a reckless spur of the moment decision. I've had enough now, and this morning embark on a solid 2 day combined boat/bus trip to the finger shaped, far eastern island of Palawan, home to the world's longest subterrainian river, idyllic scenery and stunning landscapes, and top notch wreck diving (the aftermath of an American WWII bombardment of Japanese ships), or so I read in the tourist brochure.

The boat really has it all. You get a bed, a top notch restaurant serving a wide variety of cuisine (they have 3 flavors of cup of noodle!), and best of all, the chance to mix, mingle, and trade stories with the locals.

Sinulog in Cebu

2008-01-23T13:54:00.000+07:00

Weather patterns in the Philippines are changing. Normally this time of year is dry and clear in this part of the country but lately the rainy season has not obeyed orders. Many people are blaming global climate change for the shift. Whatever the reason, it's certainly not going to stop Filipinos from enjoying Sinulog, or "The Queen of Festivals", as one Cebu local dubbed it.

Sinulog is a dance, a rhythm, costumes and celebration wrapped in a religious celebration of the Santo Ninyo, the Philippines' version of the baby Jesus. Loads of people cradle little, and sometimes large, statuettes of the child saint through the rough-edged downtown district of the city in a huge procession towards the large Cathedral in town. Sprinkles rained down throughout the afternoon resulting in many an umbrella poke to the face.

At night Sinulog turns into a raucous street party with reggae and rock cover bands dominating crooning tired tunes into the festive night air. The quality of the music is made up for by the cheapness of the beer. San Miguel is the national beer of the Philippines and comes in light, pilsen, super dry, and red horse forms. Pilsen is the original and still the best. So good in fact, that I've de-throned Tiger and Lao as the leaders of the Asian beer scene.

All in all, Sinulog did not disappoint. It will take a lot more than the gradual destruction of the plant's ecosystem to keep Filipinos from having a good time.

First Impressions of The Philippines

2008-01-18T12:45:00.001+07:00

Keep in mind I've been here a day, with a good chunk of that asleep:

Manila airport is by far the worst airport I've ever been to.

Filipinos speak fluent, polite, American accented English. When checking into my room, the hotel staff said: Would you mind if I asked you to pay for the first night?, while in Thailand it's always something like: You pay now.

Filipinos and Filipinas are very friendly! They talk a lot with their eyebrows.

The city, Cebu, is not especially nice. Think long polluted roads with no sidewalks and little charm. I'm actually hanging out in a shopping mall now. I like this shopping mall. Everything I need right now is here.

Food and transport and very cheap!

Most other foreigners here are old white dudes.

It's totally bizarre but I love it!

Go Chang!

2008-01-13T20:11:00.001+07:00

Chang, or elephant, is more than just a low-cost, high-alcohol (6.5%) Thai beer, which my former Thai language teacher said he drank over other beers because he's "kikiat chee" or "lazy to piss". Chang is also a magnificent "Koh", or island, in the east of Thailand near the Cambodian border. Overlooked by tourists heading south to "the beaches", many people must have been confused and not realized that "The Beach" is just a book and movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio, and there are no paradise pot crops and utopian communities living on Koh Pi Pi, just a lot of drunken Europeans.

Koh Chang is no secret, but it's a beautiful and, so far, tastefully developed island. Here you feel you're living with Thai people, and not that you've driven them out and replaced them with banana pancakes. Getting here from Bangkok costs a fraction of that to get to the southern islands, and once you're here the food and booze are half the price, too. Have you grasped my advice yet? Skip the full moon party on Koh Pha Ngan, unless of course you like dancing on broken glass, and Go Chang!In other news, I ship out for Cebu in the Philippines late Wednesday night and arrive Thursday morning to witness the weekend Sinulog festival. Apparently, Filipino festivals are quite mad. During Easter, devotees in the predominately Catholic country actually volunteer to be nailed onto crosses, like, for real. For the rest of us, choking down marshmallow peeps is suffering enough.

Under the Sea

2008-01-10T09:04:00.001+07:00

I spent the end of '07 on a raucous beach on the island of Koh Pha Ngan in Thailand, and after growing tired of that washed up island went to the decidedly more pleasant Koh Tao to the north to soak in sun and salt water. The main attraction of the island is scuba diving, and always being one to run with the crowds, I jumped on the bandwagon. The first couple days were spent watching corn-hole PADI videos and doing quizzes designed for the thickest of the thick. My classmates were a Canadian couple who both would have gone down in flames on the final exam if they hadn't cheated on me - takes me back to junior high and letting the stoner kids cheat off me in science class. Equally easy test, and equally daft classmates. Anyway...

The depths of the sea are remarkable, and I got see and swim amongst dozens of species of bright, beautiful, florescent fishies, a massive school barracuda swimming in a spiral, some fish related to "Nemo", stingrays, and lots of other scuba divers doing their PADI open water diving courses. Apparently, Koh Tao is the #2 place in the world for issuing PADI open water certification (the certification which permits dives of up to 18 meters, although we were down to 22 meters at some points, shhhhh.)

Unfortunately the visibility was a bit crap because of a storm that had blown through and shaken up the ocean floor a few days earlier. Still, it was a remarkable experience and I look forward to doing more of it.

Into the Heart of Darkness: Rampant Road Rage in Phnom Penh

2007-12-27T11:47:00.001+07:00

Close your eyes and imagine a city with no traffic laws, where might is right on the road and the bigger vehicle always has the right of way. No wait, you won't be able to read. Maybe just squint your eyes a little and imagine. Or better yet, just come to Phnom Penh and sit on my balcony for a few hours. While not the most exciting point in Phnom Penh, it affords one a pretty good overview of the traffic here.

I'm situated on St. 51, a street best known for the popular Heart of Darkness club, or just Haat to the locals. In the past it was known as a gangster hangout where the offspring of the military brass and other upper crust Khmers came to let off steam and shoot off a few rounds once in a while. When I first came to Phnom Penh the place had been shut for a month after a fatal shooting, but these days it doesn't feel that dangerous, thanks in large part to the thorough weapons search on entry.

It's an average road, not too big and not too small. It's got a lot of traffic in the daytime, but transforms into an eerie ghost street at night, like so much of Phnom Penh. Past 11, no one walks down the road, and the only souls to be found are the ever present security guards, faces buried beneath caps casting ghoulish stares.

It's a huge difference from Bangkok, the Asian city which I'll forever use as a reference point. In Bangkok the only dangers I felt at night were the packs of mangy street dogs which take over the alleys and bully humans after being abused and kicked around during the day.

Here in Cambodia though, there are no street dogs to be found. I was told that's because a healthy dog can fetch upwards of $20 at the market, a handsome sum. For those Khmers who turn their noses up at the idea of eating dog, this is one of the many evils Vietnamese brought to Cambodia during their 10 year occupation of the country.

The Vietnamese are used as the butt of many jokes. While Khmer's have a general disdain for the Thais, they harbor a special kind of distrust for the Vietnamese. When explaining to my students that they had to write a letter inviting a foreign friend to come and experience Cambodia, I offered a few suggestions for the nationality of the friend: French (nod), American (nod), or Vietnamese (laughter). The thought that you'd call a Vietnamese person a friend!

Due to the lack of domestic expertise, infrastructure, investment and whatever else, many manufactured goods in Cambodia come from neighboring Thailand or Vietnam. A few days ago I stopped to chat with my downstairs neighbors as I was coming home with a fresh supply of bottled water. "What's that for?", they enquired. I explained that because of my lack of exposure, I require a certain level of hygiene in my drinking water, while their bodies were accustomed to a higher level of impurities. "My stomach made in Thailand, your stomach made in Vietnam", one quipped. Laughs all around.

The corruption and lawlessness here, however, I'm afraid is home-grown. When I went to Vietnam it looked the picture of a communist-turned-capitalist success story: orderly, modern, and prosperous. The first thing I noticed as my bus sped towards Saigon on a perfectly sealed road was the impressive signage: crosswalks, speed limits, and other warnings. I suppose those things are pretty far down on the Cambodian government's list of improvements for the road from Phnom Penh to the Vietnam border; better to remedy the Mekong river ferry crossing which can back up and make for 5 hour waits at peak times. Therefore, a bridge first, paving the road second, and then perhaps we can think about signs. But wait, there are signs in Phnom Penh, but does anyone notice? I did, until a Lexus SUV almost flattened me while attempting to utilize a "pedestrian crossing". Then the signs became background noise, just another piece of sensory input to mix with the hollers, motorbikes, ice cream truck tunes, bells, crashes, and laughs that litter the air.A Lexus is just an overpriced Toyota, douchebag.

Is it Christmas yet?

2007-12-26T11:03:00.001+07:00

A holiday in Cambodia isn't quite as bad as Jello would have us believe. Things have improved enough that, 2500 US soldiers from a big-arse ship just enjoyed one a few weeks ago during their R&R beach stay in Sihanoukville, and they certainly were indulging in more than a bowl of rice a day.

I decided on a whim to jet down to the beach on Christmas eve in a shared taxi. The Toyota Camry managed to seat 8: 4 in the front and 4 in the back. Now how, I can hear you asking, do you seat 4 people in the front seat when one of them is presumably driving? Very carefully. With 2 people in the driver's seat, it looked like 1 of them was steering and the other on the pedals. There's never a dull moment in Cambodian transport, I tell you.

I wanted to do a personal recreation of the baby Jesus' birth scene by arriving late at night with no hotel reservation, all of the rooms being booked up, but finding a kind soul to provide me with humble but sufficient lodging. The plan worked perfectly! All of the rooms were in fact booked, and I spend the night having my feet feasted on by mosquitos. I've been performing regular puja's involving incense and fruit offerings to keep out the bad spirits, known to some western scientists as "malaria".

So here I am on the beach, soaking in rays, not a snowflake in sight, but there are a few shabby plastic Christmas trees and some battery lit Santa hats. It seems Santa couldn't sort out the thatched roof of my bungalow because my socks are full of the same lint and sand that they were on the 24th.

Today I return to Phnom Penh, then on to Thailand and the big Bangeroos. Enjoy your final days of 2007 and don't be afraid to COMMENT.

It was supposed to be so easy...

2007-12-23T20:46:00.001+07:00

I thought I'd like to get out of the malaria infested woods of Ratanakiri for Christmas and booked a minivan trip back to Phnom Penh. Ratanakiri is in the northeastern corner of Cambodia, and the journey should take 11 hours under normal conditions.

I was pleasantly surprised to find the driver starting off down the road before full capacity of the van had been pushed to the limit; my pleasure turned to pain when he began slowing down and desperately honking his horn for any possible fare holding passenger along the road. Before long, the van had been properly filled to Cambodian standards, and without any cargo in my footspace (it had been giant vats of honey on the trip in).

After a couple of hours we hit the paved road near Stung Treng - from there it's a straight shot on good roads all the way back to Phnom Penh! After an hour there was a noise and the driver lost control, but managed to bring the vehicle to a stop before plunging us into a ditch. After some consultation with the other passengers, I figured out what had happened: The suspension over the front left wheel had broken. The driver managed to do a pretty impressive impromptu repair job on it, and we all got back in and cruised at a leisurly 15 mph for another hour or two to the next city (Kratie. Never did see the dolphins...), where it was properly repaired.

To my surprise, we were soon back on a dirt road! I was sure the road was good and sealed all the way back to Phnom Penh! Ah, but this is a shortcut, I was informed. Have to make up for lost time, after all.

Total time of the trip: 14 hours. Could have been worse.

Beneath the Surface

2007-12-18T10:32:00.002+07:00

Living in Phnom Penh, I've been at a loss as to what to post here. I've even written a few articles about life in the capitol, about the traffic, the corruption, the lawlessness - but somehow I felt that posting them would detract from the travel focus of the blog.

Lucky for the readers here, my stay in Phnom Penh is coming to an end along with the year, and there are some new and exciting trips on the horizon.

Now, I'm staying in the provincial capitol of Kampong Cham, a hundred or so miles up the Mekong river from Phnom Penh. The town itself is nothing special, but the rural villages surrounding it are traditional Cambodia at it's finest.

As I rode along the dusty path on my Chinese bicycle, all the children waved and practiced and words of English they knew (mainly "hello"). Most adults in the village were busy with some task: collecting palm oil from the trees, laying bamboo water pipes from the Mekong into the village, chopping wood, planting rice, making huts and houses - but a few seemed to be dangerously unoccupied, drinking whiskey and waving merrily (but a bit aggressively) at 9:00 A.M... I didn't stop to chat.

After a while the houses dwindled but the dirt road pressed on. I started having thoughts of highwaymen - surely they exist around here... But decided to go a bit further. After all, there might be a magnificent sight just around the next bend. Finally, I came across a young boy driving an ox cart. We chatted amiably in my extremely broken Khmer for a bit, then I asked how to get back to the town, and he pointed me in the right direction. When I asked what was down the other way (the way I had been going) he ran his finger along his neck, the universal throat slitting sign. I swallowed hard, thanked him, and went back the way I had come.

Cambodia looks fairly safe to the visitor, but I we have to remember that the country is growing out of the ashes of a 30 year civil war and the people have experienced horrors that no one reading this blog is likely to know. Take care of your safety in Cambodia! Now I know why anyone with money buys the biggest, most heavily armored vehicle they can afford.

Tomorrow it's off to Kratie, home to the famed Irrawaddy river dolphin. I read an article on a website a while back that the species had gone extinct years ago and the whole thing was a sham perpetrated by men with dolphin fins, swimming at a safe distance from the boats. A scheme, the article reported, to keep the tourist business in Kratie alive. I have since heard from numerous eye-witnesses that the article has to be rubbish because they went there, and there were definitely dolphins. Stay tuned for the final word.

The Year of Kampot

2007-11-11T18:18:00.001+07:00

The first things you'll notice coming into Kampot, a lovely little town in the south of Cambodia, are the bizarre memorial statues gracing the roadways and roundabouts. In addition to "2000", there's "rice farmers", "white horse", and most curiously "rhinoceros".

On Friday morning a few friends and I hopped on our motorbikes and headed there for the long weekend. My little 100cc bike handled the trip admirabley, but my friend's much older bike kept overheating, so he bought an IV drip at a pharmacy and rigged it to feed a water drip onto the motor. He made it in the end, an hour or so after me.

On the following day we went to the nearby Kep beach and feasted on fresh shrimp and crabs. Afterwards we swam and relaxed in the sun. In the evening we went to a restaurant specializing in wild meats and feasted once again, this time on hog and deer. The unfortunate vegetarian in the group was surely annoyed, but didn't complain.

On the way back it rained, but we didn't care.

Live from Vietnam

2007-10-11T14:08:00.001+07:00

This week Cambodia is celebrating Phchum Ben, a holiday of some sort, so I've taken advantage of the time off work to make a jaunt over to Ho Chi Minh city to see what all the rage is.

I am pleasantly surprised. I heard so many travelers in Cambodia bitching and moaning about how they hate the Vietnamese, what a pain in the ass the country is, etc etc, so I was bracing myself for intensity, but so far it's nowhere to be found. People are remarkably friendly and, yes, a bit more business-oriented than their Theravada Buddhist neighbors to the west (Vietnam, apart from the large Catholic minority, practices Mahayana Buddhism, like China)

My impression is that HCMC is a mix between Bangkok and Phnom Penh, though closer to the former than the latter. It's a bit like Bangkok, but better managed and without all the horribly ugly expressways, fly-overs, and the skytrain which obscure so much of the Bangkok sky with rain stained concrete. It's a city of motorbikes, though it seems that the cars are starting to chip away at the 2 wheel monopoly on the roads. For a coffee lover like myself, it's a dream. Cheap, good, domestically grown coffee is served everywhere. The food is also a dream... a lot more variety than the gnarly strips of pork on a pile of rice that I've been imbibing in Cambodia.

I'd better stop there or I might just convince myself not to go back on Sunday!

Home Sweet Home

2007-10-01T22:33:00.001+07:00

A glimpse into my first week in Phnom Penh...

Phnom Penh: the first week

2007-09-29T15:14:00.001+07:00

I arrived only 2 days before starting my new job, so my time has mostly been spent getting adjusted to the job rather than really exploring the city. Or take many photos, so patience on that front, dear friends.

The city feels more modern than my first trip to Phnom Penh a couple of years ago. Being outside in the streets at night, I don't feel the sense of danger (or at least noticeably less) that I did back in 2005. Admittedly, I'm staying in a fairly western part of town with heaps of western restaurants and bars catering to tourists and and ex-pats (I'll be looking for a more Khmer area to reside in soon).

Been trying to learn Khmer from the get-go, but damn are these SE Asian languages tricky to wrap your head around. In the initial stages it doesn't feel like my knowlege of Thai is helping much, but I think it will as I begin to understand Khmer better.. Thai is tonal and Khmer is not, but they do share a fair bit of vocabulary, and have similar grammar.

More soon.

Coup Anniversary

2007-09-20T08:35:00.001+07:00

September 19th is the first anniversary of the coup that sent telecom mogul turned prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra packing to England and looks to have restored the pattern of weak governments interspersed with coups that Thailand has known since becoming a constitutional monarchy in 1932. While Thaksin was away, the tanks were rolled into the streets and a television broadcast plainly announced the coup. The next day, life went on as normal. When there's been 17 coups in the last 60 years, there's not much to do but sigh or roll your eyes and get on with the day.

There's no question that Thaksin was a bit of an asshole. He abused his unprecedented power to benefit his business interests, probably more blatantly and unabashedly than some other nation's leaders do. The fact remains that he had a clear recent mandate to rule the country. In 2005 he became the first prime minister to be re-elected EVER in Thai history. He was immensely popular in Issan, the poor north-eastern part of the country, and other rural areas. He started a number of projects to help alleviate poverty in Thailand, with mixed success.

There was his dirty little "war on drugs" which involved the extra-judicial killings of accused "drug dealers" (who in reality could have been simply political enemies, as there was never any investigation in the killings), hard to excuse. His mishandling of the insurgency in the deep south was unfortunate, particularly the Tak Bai incident in which 85 demonstrators were killed, having suffocated in the back of a truck transporting them to a detention center some ways away.

Was it right to kick the thug out? It depends on how much value you place on democracy. The military government has fumbled through a year, the Thai people have half-heartedly accepted a new, weaker constitution to replace the 1997 one. There are elections slated for the end of the year. In the meantime, Thailand has showed weak economic growth brought on by the political instability. While nearby Vietnam is raging along with China, Thailand is poking along. It seems to me the country would have been better off with a political solution to it's Thaksin problem, but hell, what do I know, I'm just a stupid farang.

Disaster Strikes!

2007-09-17T13:45:00.001+07:00

No sooner than I arrive back in Thailand than 88 die in a Phuket plane crash on landing. Yowch. Watch out for those budget airlines.

Speaking of budget airlines, I'll be taking one to Phnom Penh in the next week or so. I've secured a teaching job there through mid-december. The pay is good, the hours not too long, and I'll be able to move forward with my film projects while I'm there.

I have to say though, the heat here is not that easy to get used to. I've come to understand why the Thais and Cambodians are so chilled out - It's too damn hot to be perky all the time. I feel like time moves at about half speed as back home, and that still seems a tad too fast. I'm sure I'll adapt, but I wish it would happen sooner.

And then there's the import/export business I'm hoping to start up. I've met heaps of people on holiday in Thailand who fund their travels buying suits, knock-off goods, etc etc. More on that later.

By the way, the blog really is back this time :)

Music Review: Radio Phnom Penh

2007-08-13T02:28:00.001+07:00

Sublime Frequencies, a Seattle-based record label specializing in radio and field recording collages from around the globe, has kindly saved you the trouble and pain of digging through the mines of mediocre Khmer Pop and ripped-off Tata Young melodies and delivered some of the catchiest, melt-in-you-ear sweet Khmer sounds ever to grace the streets of Phnom Penh (or your living room).

Being back home in the sane lands of the eternal toothless-winter (it's August, so why am I sleeping with a down comforter?) has left me with plenty of time to get re-acquainted with my old friend music, and RPP is topping the playlist. When the quiet predictability of Olympia underwhelms my stimulant-starved, metropolis-acclimated mind, I only need strap on my sennheiser teleportation device to be whisked away to that mystic land steeped in war, history, and re-birth.

Farewell, Japan

2007-07-27T19:30:00.002+07:00

As a neat little wrap-up to my time in Japan I set out with my friend David to ascend mighty Fujisan. Our climb began at around 10 PM, with the aim to reach the summit by sunrise at around 4 AM. Armed with torches, winter clothes for the brutal conditions at the top, and a few rice balls each, we began our climb.

The ascent is divided into 10 stations, with the 1st being the base and the 10th the summit. The bus from Tokyo plunked us out at the 5th station, and after a few minutes of meandering about we found an expert-looking climber who seemed to know where to go. We followed.

We reached the 6th station in record time and had a short break before powering on to the next.

By the time we reached the 7th station is was becoming apparent that this wasn't going to be a stroll in the park. The path was steep and dark, but our flashlights were true, and David's could even be powered by a hand crank. There would be no failure for us this night.

Here we are at the 7th Station.

Between the 8th station and the summit, conversation drops to a minimum and a kind of mountaineer's comradely kicks in. The air becomes thin, and breaks become short and frequent. We were making record time and were set to be at the summit around 2, so we slowed our pace in an effort not to be stuck on the chilly peak waiting for the sun to rise.

For climbers who bought a Fuji walking stick, a man burns a station stamp onto the side.

We reached the summit at around 3, leaving an hour to shiver and huddle anywhere we could find out of reach of the biting winds before the sun rose. There were salty men serving up slop ramen in a summit shack, so we indulged, more for the steamy broth than the food itself.

The view at the top was breathtaking. Otherworldly. Stunning. An hour trotting around the rocks of that lifeless environment was enough. We set out, with pride in our hearts, for the return journey.

for more photos, check the flickr page

Sushi

2007-06-20T20:12:00.002+07:00

This is too funny for me to keep to myself.

Rainy Sunday

2007-06-10T10:30:00.001+07:00

Here are a couple of clips from a stroll through one of Tokyo's entertainment districts, Kabukicho, last weekend:

Another cop-out video post

2007-05-21T18:57:00.002+07:00

One day I'll write about life in Tokyo, but until then....

VIDEOS FROM MY INDIA ADVENTURES
Bizarre happenings in Varanasi
Gujarati Sword Dancing

Metal boxes packed with suits and bodies

2007-05-11T20:15:00.001+07:00

The top 5 most crowded train lines in Tokyo, according to my students:

1) JR Saikyo line. Popular hunting grounds for chikan (groping perverts).
2) Keio Inokashira line. In western Tokyo.
3) JR Yamanote line. The circular loop line of central Tokyo.
4) Odakyu line. Another one in western Tokyo.
5) Tokyu Den-en-toshi line: Yet another one in the west.
Honorable Mention: JR Chuo line. Cuts through the center of Tokyo

This week I started commuting to Shibuya from my home in Seijogakuen-mae. The journey takes around 40 minutes door to door, with about 20 of those being inside a train car. I use the Odakyu line (#4) and the Inokashira line (#2).

Not for the weak.

Sardines.

Go to a happy place.

Hmmmm, no thanks.

Train staff lend a helping hand.

Sure wish there was a ladies only carriage.

Relief.

Coffee and cigerettes.

Getting on an Inokashira line in Shimo-kitazawa.

Doggy!

2007-05-09T17:59:00.002+07:00

Doggy!
Originally uploaded by Sven Mook.

Walking dogs is such a bother.

Tokyo Again

2007-05-01T20:50:00.001+07:00

I've landed in Tokyo, and in my very own brand spankin' new apartment. It even has a new apartment smell. And guess what else? Screaming fast broadband internet. Goodbye to posts from backwater malaria infested towns... Don't expect the writing to improve with the hygiene though.

There are a few things that need to be mentioned before I go further into the details of my existence here in Tokyo. First off, why does United Airlines blow? My complaint here has substance, and goes beyond the appalling lack of beautiful Asian stewardesses on it's Bangkok-Tokyo route. One word: Water. Why do I have to flag down the flight attendants repeatedly to beg for water? Shouldn't they be coming around with the stuff of life as we cruise along at that parching altitude? On any decent airline they would be coming around with trays of the stuff every 20 minutes. I could go on and on about the food, but what would be the point. It's typical American slop: low quality, flavorless, processed, and unhealthy. Finally, I don't mind that I don't have my own personal television screen. I really don't. But for the love of God, if I have to see Happy Feet playing on that big blurry screen one more time I'm gonna spew all over the damn duty free catalog AND the safety card... Seriously, every flight I seem to take has that as the feature friggin' movie of the moment.

For those interested in good cinema, see The Last King of Scotland.

Before I stray too far from the topic of airlines and flying in general, allow me to redeem this rant-fest of a post by sharing some tips for getting budget tickets. First of all, check out the Hobo Traveler's tips on gate hopping. The formatting of the page leaves something to be desired, but if you're looking for cheap tickets involving unknown/unconventional travel plans, this guy knows his shit. Also try throwing your travel plans into these search engines which search hundreds of other airlines and travel sites at once:
Kayak
SideStep

More once I've unpacked...

อะไรวะ?

2007-04-27T18:10:00.001+07:00

Once again I find myself in Bangkok, the City of Angels... and internet speeds are smokin'! I can't visit YouTube though, as the Thai government has blocked it since a video poking fun at the monarch was spotted a few weeks ago.

After 4 months in India and Cambodia, Bangkok seems uber-developed and hyper-westernized. On Tuesday I go to Tokyo... my brain will surely explode then.

Today I took care of business: went to the tailor, had my teeth cleaned, and got a foot massage. I'm very comfortable in the city after having lived here for a year and a half, and it's always good to come back for a visit. Good fruit and pretty girls... what more could you ask for?

I mentioned Japan earlier. I'll be working near Shibuya through July, so the "travel" part of the travelogue might be a strech, but I intend to keep the updates coming to give my readers a peak into the life of an ex-pat in Japan. And of course, expect more travels and adventures when summertime hits!

Indian boys ham it up

2007-04-17T11:03:00.001+07:00

I was trying to videotape this guy practicing kung-fu, and this group of Indian boys kept trying to push way their way into the shot. Hilarious...

India Videos!

2007-04-12T09:32:00.001+07:00

At long last, here's some of the footage I shot in India. I'll start with this short clip of some girls playing music on a train from Mumbai to Ahmedabad. The clip goes on quite a bit longer than what I uploaded here, but I'll start with this as a test:

Check the Flickr page for newly uploaded snaps - some of my favorites are in this bunch...

Cambodian New Year starts tomorrow so I'm off work until Tuesday. I may head down to the coast and Sihanoukville for the holiday. Happy Khmer New Year!

Teaching in a Khmer language school

2007-04-11T08:33:00.001+07:00

I've taken a job 2 hours per day teaching in a language school in Phnom Penh. The name of the school is ELT. Here's a quote from their introductory information for teachers:

ELT popularly stands for English Language Training. It, however, can be interpreted as Enriching Life for Tomorrow as its Motto. We also attempt to translate ELT as Excellent Learning Torch...

Ouch. Yes, it's that bad. OK so the school is crap, but Khmer students are outgoing and eager to speak (compared with my experiences teaching in Thailand and Japan). The level of English in Phnom Penh is, on average, higher than in Bangkok or Tokyo.

My schedule leaves something to be desired: one hour from 6:30 AM to 7:30 AM and another hour in the evening, 5:30 to 6:30. I did this to force myself to wake up early. Teaching 2 or 3 hours per day is about right, really. One has time to adequeately prepare for classes and not feel like a zombie at the end of the day. Mostly I've taken the job for a laugh and to see what it's like in a Cambodian language school, and also to cover most of my expenses during my stay here. It is cheap, I tell ya. One strange thing in Cambodia: The U.S. dollar is the de-facto currency here. They do have riel, the local currency, but it is used interchangably with the dollar at a rate of 4000 riel to one dollar. This means riel are used for small amounts(there's no US coins) and dollars for larger ones.

What's it like in Cambodia? HOT!!! Now is the peak of summer and the new year is this weekend. I'm planning to get out of town for the holiday and see a bit of the Cambodian countryside.

Stay tuned in the next week or two for some videos from India, new photos from Cambodia, and of course my continuing impressions of Phnom Penh.

Cambodia

2007-04-05T08:26:00.001+07:00

I'm posting from Siem Reap, Cambodia, which is best known as home of the temples of Angkor. The Angkor empire dominated South-East asia about a thousand years ago, then fell into obscurity. For centuries these giant stone temples were lost to the jungles and known only to the local villagers. Now that the prospect of war has lifted from Cambodian life, the site is seeing unprecedented numbers of visitors, increasing rapidly each year.

I spent the last 3 days touring the temples. It's my second time here, but this time I explored many more of the temples. They cover a wide area at the north eastern corner of the Tonle Sap lake, the massive lake dominating the Cambodian heartland. This unique lake receives an influx of water from the Mekong each year, when the water journeying towards the sea overwhelms the Mekong Delta in Southern Vietnam and backs up into the lake, multiplying it's size four fold. As the water recedes from the lake throughout the year, rice is planted continuously on the newly exposed, highly fertile land.

The Khmer Empire, which had it's capitol at Angkor, dominated south-east Asia at it's height, encompassing large swaths on land in modern day Thailand, Laos, Malaysia, and Vietnam. Much of today's cultural and religious life is rooted in heritage of this vast empire.

Look at my Flickr photos to get an idea what it's like at Angkor.

From India I spent 10 days in intensive Vipassana meditation at a center outside of Bangkok. There, I put my strength of will to the test. Wake up bell was at 4:00 AM. The days were filled with meditation (about 11 hours each day). We were also forbidden from speaking with our fellow meditators. A difficult but worthwhile experience. This organization has meditation centers worldwide, but Vipassana meditation centers with varying methodologies and degrees of strictness are to be found throughout S.E. Asia.

We are now in the peak of the Cambodian summer. This means a kind of heat that I thought only existed in the lower hells. I can feel the sun cooking my exposed skin like rotisserie chicken. From the 13th to 15th of this month the Khmer's celebrate the Cambodian New Year. I'll most likely be in Phnom Penh for this. This is known as Songkran (or Thai New Year) in Thailand and is also celebrated in Laos and Myanmar. I've been in Laos and Thailand for it in past years.... always an excellent time! I'm looking forward to seeing the Cambodian take on it.

More from the Capitol (Phnom Penh)...

Where it all started

2007-03-18T22:38:00.000+07:00

Well I'm back in Chennai, where the women wear fresh flowers in their hair and the men throw burning hot tea from glass to glass. Ah, Tamil Nadu, how I wish I had more than a mere 24 hours to enjoy your charms. There may not be much for the average traveler to do in Chennai, but the wonderful people make it worth the visit (and they speak English!).
I've just come from Puri, a lovely town on the Bay of Bengal. The most famous site is in nearby Konark, which features the sun temple, containing many erotic sculptures and bass reliefs. Puri is such a peaceful place to relax, really off the main tourist trail but that's part of the charm and gives it an extraordinarily laid back feel. The area was devastated in 1999 by a massive cyclone.

And with that, part one of the travelogue (The Indian Odyssey, let's call it) comes to a close as I prepare for tomorrow's midnight flight to Bangkok. If you're worried that the blog will end, don't, because I'm much more worried about the prospect of getting a full-time job. After a brief stop-over in the land of smiles (are we still calling it that?) I'll be heading to the land of landmines (and smiles), Cambodia.

City of Joy?

2007-03-11T18:11:00.000+07:00

Kolkata musings
The first thing one notices when stumbling out of Kolkata's Howrah train station at some too-early hour is the abundance of charming, old-fashioned yellow taxi cabs, and the corresponding lack of bicycle-rickshaws and auto-rickshaws (3 wheeled bats from hell). After crossing the magnificent bridge seperating the station from Kolkata proper, one also notices the abundance of that mythical contraption dreamed up in Japan in the 1800's, the human-pulled rickshaw. Kolkata is the last city in the world to hang on to these slow and outdated contraptions, but it seems to be incapable or unwilling to do away with them. In the guesthouse where I stay there is a book filled with facts and figures from early 1996, and one of the boxed texts proclaims that the government has abolished the rickshaw and they'll be off the streets by the end of 1996. Hmmm...

Trains
To my memory, I never rode a train until I was 18 years old (which must seem bizarre to my Japanese and European readers), but ever since that maiden voyage from Rome's Leonardo da Vinci airport to the city I've had a fascination with them, especially subways. Kolkata sports India's only subway system (with a modest single line) though according to reports Delhi is soon to unveil another. It's quick, frequent, and above all extremely cheap, costing between 4 and 8 rupees per journey (9-18 US cents). It's aesthetic is reminiscent of the NYC subway: grimy but functional. And which city's subway is the most beautiful, you ask? Strikingly, it's Bangkok's elegant contribution (though the safety record leaves something to be desired). But I digress...

Wasting Away?
On the side of the road sat a poor Indian woman with a scale and a metal bowl containing a few rupees. I hadn't checked my weight since I left Japan nearly 3 months ago, so I put my bag down, slipped off my sandals and climbed aboard. Much to my surprise, the scale read "56.5 kg" (For those stragglers who haven't climbed aboard the metric train yet, that's 124.3 pounds). This means I've either shed 7 or 8 kg's (about 16 pounds), or this woman's scale is spinning lies.

Assuming the scale is mechanically sound, I attribute this mainly to a period of about 3 weeks when I was having gut issues, or as some dear friends back home used to say after eating several taco bell chilli cheese burritos, "watery shits". During this period I couldn't stomach Indian food and was subsisting mainly on bananas and yoghurt.

Happily, this ailment is but a distant memory, and I'm once again eating whatever slop I can scrounge up for 8 rupees on the street, being sure to chew carefully (gotta watch out for those rocks).

From Street Food to Street Everything
Who can resist it: piping hot chicken rolls, chow mein, egg sandwiches, teas, sugar cane juice, coconuts, and everything else your greedy little taste buds crave is being hocked on the streets in India. But did you know it's equally easy to get a shave on the road? Or have your ears cleaned? Or a tooth pulled? Almost anything offered in shops can be found a little cheaper out in the elements.

Holi: The full story

2007-03-07T18:00:00.000+07:00

Varanasi is one of those places people flock to for the rambunctious celebration of Holi. The main day for celebration was March 4th, and was divided into 2 distinct methods of celebration, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. I was warned continuously from many days before not to go outside the guesthouse during the morning. On the streets during this time the men cut completely loose - no woman would dare to step outside her house until after 2 PM, when all is declared safe, and people take to the streets with their finest threads.

If you've never seen a large group of Indian men at a festival, many of whom are drunk or otherwise intoxicated, it's difficult to convey the enthusiasm. It all starts with water fights, but these waters are infused with industrial strength dye. No part of the body is off limits, and in fact the face is the first target.
When water stops being fun, some groups took to using the piles of trash (which can be found every 20 feet in any Indian town) and tossing them into the air, each other's faces, and down each other's shirts/pants. When the novely of discarded plastic and food wears off, it's on to cow shit, which is no less plentiful. I'm afraid I can't tell you what comes after cow shit, as I don't know any eye-witnesses who dared to stay within the line of sight once the shit storm started. I did hear rumors of water balloons spiked with rocks, and there have been cases in the past of acid being mixed with the water.

As for me, I enjoyed the revelry from the safety of my guesthouse rooftop and ventured out only in the afternoon. I must be loosing my sense of fun. I'll take a good clean S.E. Asian "water only" Songkran over this orgy of madness anyday.

Took the night train to Kolkata and arrived at 8:30 AM today. It's novel and refreshing to be in a major metropolis again. More on my activities here as they develop.

Holi

2007-03-02T22:37:00.000+07:00

Varanasi is simmering in anticipation of Holi, the annual festival which celebrates the end of winter. All the corner shops are well stocked with water guns of all shapes and sizes. Mounds of colored powder line the streets. Only the children are wearing clothes stained with the colors of the rainbow today, but come March 4th it will be everyone. Shops will close and the general mayhem will consume the streets.
Hey, wasn't I in varansi in the last post? And the post before? Isn't this supposed to be a travelogue? Oh sorry! Silly me! I bought a ticket to Calcutta for March 6, so fear not.

Hello, Hash?

2007-02-21T18:09:00.000+07:00

The touts of the Varanasi ghats don't beat around the bush. I thought no place could ever top Vancouver, B.C. for most-drug-offers-per-city-block, but it seems I was oh-so wrong. Sorry friend, I'm already tripping balls from the living carnival that is Varanasi.

Now is the time to be in Varanasi. The saddhu's or babas as they are affectionately called, have set up camps along the ghats lining the Ganga. They'll stay here until after the Holi festival on March 3rd, after which most will drift to the next holy site, though some, like the naga-baba (naked saddhu) who always seems to draw a massive crowd by twisting his penis around a metal trident while periodically taking long and much-needed draws off his chillum, may well stay.

Belly Aches, the Kumbh Mela, and Love in the Time of Cholera

2007-02-19T14:13:00.001+07:00

I don't like seeing doctors, and I know I'm not the only one, yes I'm looking at you Mr. Willoughby, but after a few stabs at self-diagnosis and treatment of my chronically loose bowels I swallowed my pride and visited what passes for a modern medical facility in Varanasi. The diagnosis was simple - my initial self-treatment with antibiotics had destroyed the good bacteria in my system, causing my continuing and worrisome digestive ills. A few days treatment with a pro-biotic was all it took to set me straight and put the brick factory back in business. Cost for the consultation: a mere 10 rupees, about the price of a frothy lassi. The pro-biotics: 65 rupees, or the price of a tikka butter masala and naan at a mid-priced restaurant. The main expense was the 150 rupees I paid to the auto-rickshaw driver to take me there and back, an expense I justified by imagining it was an ambulance.

One significant advantage I reap by living outside the United States is that I can visit the doctor without sacraficing my savings. A simple visit to an ER in the U.S. would cost, say, minimum $200, and any sort of lab work or medication could easily send the bill to between $500-$1000. Being without insurance, it's risky for me to return home for a visit. In most cases it would be cheaper to fly to Bangkok and get treatment there.

Rest assured I'm fine and fit now in my beautiful airy room overlooking the Ganga ghats where the children fly kites and play cricket with no shoes. The only danger I face is the army of monkeys that live on the rooftops, and will snatch up anything I leave on the table near the window by reaching their little arms through the metal grates. It's a fine environment for reading, writing, and relaxation. In the mornings and evenings I grab my camera and take photos along the ghats. I rarely go without a siesta, and I have the feeling that I've stayed here a month.

The truth is I came here on the night of Shiva, February 16th. Varanasi is the city of Shiva, and I don't have to remind you that Indians love a good celebration, and what more appropriate occasion could one imagine. It was the most lively and boisterous parade of night life I've seen for some time, with floats, fireworks, dancing, dozens of brass bands, and enough loudspeakers to fill every narrow alleyway in the city with the vibrations of Hindu techno.

That same day I had been in Allahabad soaking up the atmosphere of the Ardh Kumbh Mela, where thousands of pilgrims come; not only the babas and saddhus but family upon family who had come from all across India to bathe in the water where 3 holy Indian rivers come together, on the day which the vedic astrologers had pinpointed as the most auspicious.

Just 2 days and a 12 hour train ride before, I had been in Agra, more famous for it's being home to the Taj than for it's general unpleasantness. And before Agra it was Jaipur.

Thanks to those who played "make a story from the pictures", I'll have to do that again. I've also put some more photos up on flickr (find the link on the right).

Photo Special

2007-02-14T19:36:00.000+07:00

J-J-J-Jaipur!!!

2007-02-11T11:48:00.000+07:00

Having spent 2 weeks in simple and salty Dwarka, it was time for a major shift. It turns out there's no starker contrast to dreamy Dwarka than smelly and desperate Jaipur, capitol of the tourist trap state of India, Rajasthan. After a surprisingly bearable 20 hour train ride without an assigned seat, I was besieged by vulture-like auto-rickshaw (tuk-tuk) drivers upon my arrival at 4 AM. These guys must feed on green travelers like a cow on cardboard. My chosen vulture tried every trick in the book to steer me to "his" hotel, from which he would recieve a hefty commission, with me, of course, footing that bill. Uncharacteristally, I had made a hotel reservation (the first of this trip), which I was mighty thankful for during this battle of wits with the driver.

It's unfortunate that 95% of the people in a country can be wonderful, genuine, honest people, but 95% of the people who approach you while walking down the street are blood-sucking touts or rickshaw drivers, just dying to rip you off. Many visitors get defensive after dealing with these unscrupulous vagabonds, and cease to trust any local with a friendly smile and welcoming tone. This is a mistake, but one that's taken me years to realize, and something which I have to constantly strive to correct. Of the utmost importance on the sub-continent is keeping a good attitude because if you loose it, you're on a downward spiral my friend.

To be honest, I'd have left Jaipur by now, but I have to stick around until Monday when the Air India office is opened to take care of some ticket-changing business. I had one satisfying day here, and it's best to quit while one's ahead.

Yesterday was spent, among other things, researching pashmina shawls: their price, quality, etc., not because I plan to buy one, just out of curiosity. Basically, a real pashmina shawl comes from the wool of the Himalaya-dwelling goat. There's heaps of imitators: shawls made from sheeps wool, synthetic fibers, or a combination, costing US$5-150 but the real deal will cost about US$300 for a full-sized one. The quality only goes up from there. A pashmina made from only the neck and back fur of the baby goat will run into the thousands of dollars. I'll stick to my $7 imitation, but place any orders in the comments section of this post, or mail me personally.

There's not a lot more to say about Jaipur. It's a good place for shopping if you like getting ripped off, or can bargain harder than a concrete wall. Jaipur is known far and wide as the "pink city" as all the building in the old city are painted "pink, actually more of a fading rusty-orange color. For sightseeing, there's the impressive Amber Fort, a massive palace and former home of the Maharaj (prince), perched overlooking the surrounding hills, 8 km from Jaipur. You can explore all the hidden passageways, take in the extraordinary view from intricately latticed windows, and prance about in the large courtyards.

From here it's on to Agra or Delhi.

Dhaval, the pan chewing priest

2007-02-07T13:13:00.000+07:00

One of the interesting things about staying in a small town for a long time is the colourful characters that crop up and reappear day to day. There's certainly no shortage here in Dwarka.

But first, allow me to explain "pan". It's a concoction of betel nut, herbs, and often tobacco all rolled into a leaf and stuffed into the mouth. It's users are distinctive for their red and black stained teeth and inability to annunciate. All over India, you'll see bright red splotches on the walls, asphalt, pavement - the byproduct from the mouths of pan users.

This brings us to Dhaval, the pan-addict Hindu priest of Dwarka. Dhaval is a young man, 23 years of age, and a Brahmin priest working in the main temple here. He speaks passable English and is eager to speak with foreigners.

Being a pan-hound priest must present some difficulties. When you have a mass of leaf, betel nut, and tobacco the size of a mini-snickers bar (like the ones you get at Halloween) it becomes difficult to speak. Being a priest involves reciting a lot of phrases during the daily blessings and puja (special prayers, usually payed for, to help with some specific problem). Lucky for him it's all in sanskrit which nobody (including him) will understand anyway., so he can memble his way through them. The only remaining danger is that someone will notice the red juices he's been spraying all over Shiva's phallus as he speaks.

Well, time's up here at Dwarka's only internet cafe, which brutally exploits it's monopoly on internet access.

Milking the Buffalo

2007-01-30T22:34:00.000+07:00

Today I realized another of my dreams: To milk a buffalo. OK, mostly I watched the professionals, but I got my virgin hands on those rubbery utters for a little while.
Here in India the drinking of cow and buffalo milk is widespread. Milk goes into many an Indian specialty and, sorry vegans, here a "pure veg" restaurant means they don't use eggs. Most people in the west are familiar with lassi, the refreshing yoghurt drink (and if you ever want to try and introduce your kids to it, I recommend starting with the sweet variety), but the full range of uses is astonishing. Naturally butter is one popular derivative, but also ghee (purified butter, often spread on chapatis for eating, but also used during cremation and other rituals), and the leftover buttermilk, served with the meal at many restaurants.

There is another precious mana which the cow and buffalo provide. The poo, when formed into a pancake and dried, makes for an excellent fuel for cooking over a fire (and makes excellent fertilizer).

And so, my day with the illiterate buffalo milk family was a truly memorable and enjoyable one.

On the literary front, yesterday I finished reading City of Joy about the slum in Calcutta (now Kolkata) of the same name, on which the movie is based. It's great fun to read, and I recommend it whether you've seen the movie or not. Quite gruesome in parts, it manages to be both ecstatically happy and miserably sad all at the same time.

I've slowed the pace of travel and dug in here in the ancient city of Dwarka on the coast in the far west of Gujarat state. Krishna is the main man around these parts. As the story goes, he was born in north of India by the Ganges, but later came here to work and established the city of Dwarka. It's extremely hard to seperate the truths preached by the local stories and the truths preached by the archaeologists, and from what I can gather it's not exactly known how old some of the important temples here are. The locals will usually say 5000 years old.

The place has a special atmosphere. It's very traditional and almost untouched by tourism, except for the pilgrims who flock here for auspicious days. There always seems to be a festival happenning, both day and night. Yesterday was an important holiday for the Sunni Muslims, and was the cause of great celebration. To my great surprise, loudspeakers and drums came alive in the darkest depths of the night last night, directly outside my guesthouse. The main celebration for this festival just finished an hour ago.

A few days before was January 26th, India's independance day, which was the cause of a massive celebration. To fill the gaps there is always a wedding or anniversary party dancing in the streets and filling the air with the sounds of a casio synthesizer and a raging drum line.

Don't know when I'll be able to pull myself away...

Brahmins and Dalits

2007-01-24T22:55:00.000+07:00

A couple of friendly chaps in Mumbai sparked up a conversation with me in the street. Turns out they work for an NGO which is struggling to provide equality for the minority "untouchable" caste, the dalits. They were dalits themselves, and were very passionate about the subject. Though the caste system has been officially abolished in the Indian constitution, according to these gentleman it is still very much alive, especially in the rural areas that stick to tradition and which the politicians ignore.
I won't go into all the ins and outs of the caste system here, but they did throw a few shocking bits of information my way. On the night of a marriage between a dalit man dalit woman, the woman will go home not with her new husband, but with the brahmin landowner of their property.
There are seperate glasses and plates at the restaurants for Dalits, seperate parts of the town (like a "ghetto" they explained) for the dalits, and everything else that goes along with extreme segregation.
I asked how one knows the caste of another person, since there is no physical distinction between a brahmin and a dalit, or any other caste. According to them "it's all in the name", that is, your surname would give away which caste you belong to. I was grateful for their infomative conversation. Traveling about as I do, I don't see the discrimination with my eyes, but it is very much alive under the surface. Best of luck to you gentlemen on your mission!
In stark contrast to it's northern neighbor Rajasthan (which I will be heading to next), Gujarat state is utterly devoid of foreign tourists. In addition I'm noticing a steep deterioration of English ability as I plunge into the western depths of the state. I just may have to break down and learn some words in Hindi. Well I know a few, but "namaskar sardarji" (good evening sir) only gets me so far though "bas" (enough) comes it quite handy with the aggressive hordes of begging children. Really it's an exciting and long overdue proposition. I've grown lazy because of the brilliant English spoken here thus far.
Today marks me first camel sighting in India. Can't wait to ride one of those suckers around the deserts of Rajasthan.

Ahmedabad: Day One

2007-01-22T22:43:00.000+07:00

After a mildly grueling 9 hour train ride in 3rd class without a seat reservation I've arrived in the bustling, polluted, but incredibly welcoming city of Ahmedabad, in Gujarat state. The train ride provided a sneak peak into the people of Gujarat: friendly, outgoing, and hospitable. You're never in want of food on an Indian train, even in a decked out 3rd class compartment. Vendors hawking samosas, rice, chai, and fruit board the compartment at every station, even if that means they have to jump in and out of the emergency window because the entry ways are inaccessible. On top of that, the family that "took me in" and offered my a little space on their upstairs loft bench seat had come well prepared with chapatis, curd, and a potato and vegetable masala.
Arriving at 2 AM in an unknown city is never my first choice, but sometimes that's the way the cookie crumbles, so I put myself in the hands of an autorickshaw driver to whisk me off to the promised "cheap and good" hotel. After a few tries I found a suitable room with the only downside being the gang of pigeons that live directly above the room and march around from early morning to dusk, periodically shitting on the windows and losing feathers through the small hole in the roof where the fan is mounted.
With remarkably few foreign tourists here, the people are friendly and genuine. In the space of a few hours I've been invited into several homes, had a free of charge "heritage tour" of the old city, and learned quite a bit about the history of the place. One striking thing is how divided the Muslim and Hindu parts of the city are, though they are both warm and welcoming (to me anyway, though not to each other).
I've also had a good run-down of the other places to visit in the state. It's a significant place for Hindus as it is [supposedly] Krishna's old stomping grounds. On the far western end of the state which borders the Arabian Sea, several successively older cities are submerged underwater, flooded and abandoned as the oceans levels have risen over the centuries. There's also a handful of wildlife sanctuaries, including Sasan Gir, which is the main home in India of the Asian lion.
Wild lion anyone?

Coming from which country?

2007-01-18T21:16:00.000+07:00

I managed to pull myself out of sandy tropical Goa yesterday on a train bound for Mumbai. The train is far better than the bus in India, especially for long distance travel, but it conflicts with my general aversion to planning because you generally have to make a reservation a few days in advance to have a guaranteed seat. It's worth the effort though, because it's cheaper, smoother, faster, and funner than bus travel. This time I got lucky and secured a seat having bought my ticket a half hour before the train was to depart.
Mumbai! Bombay! Whatever you want to call it, it's a magnificent place teeming with life and excitement around every corner. Grand architecture, brilliant cuisine from around India (and the world) and a shopper's paradise (I bought a trumpet today...), it's the kind of place I can see myself living. Today I aquainted myself with just one small area of the city. Imagine all the hidden secrets, gems and horrors that dwell in this sprawling megalopolis of 16 million people (give or take).
The winds have turned and from here I'm drifting north through the states of Gujarat and Rajisthan before hitting Delhi around the beginning of February. This means I'll be staying in India a fair bit longer than the initial 6 weeks I'd planned for, and I'll be able to hit Kashmir and Pujabi to the north of Delhi, and later Varanesi before going back to Chennai at the end of the trip.
Here's some of the highlights from the last week or so:
I saw the biggest rat ever.
Saw more cows eating more cardboard.
Took a therapeutic mud-bath in Goa.
Perfected my clothes hand-washing technique.
The train ride along the Konkan coast of India.
The magnificent sunsets over the sea in Goa every night.
Saw a really dated American horror movie called The Body Counters in the cinema (ok not really a highlight but I thought you should know) Tonight I'll correct that blunder by seeing a quality flick here in the film capitol of India.

Next stop - somewhere in Gujarat state

wobble wobble

2007-01-14T14:05:00.000+07:00

Indians have a very direct way of communicating that I find so refreshing. Their speech is very polite, but many of the tiring extra goodbyes and thank yous have been cleanly snipped away.
My favorite element of communication with Indians is non-verbal. It's the side to side bobbing of the head that is so uniquely Indian. I was completely baffled as to it's meaning for the first couple of days here. Is it no? yes? maybe?
It has a range of subtle meanings. One clear bob to the side is a definite "yes", while a gentle back and forth bobbing could mean, "yeah", "perhaps", "This is possible", "it remains to be seen", etc.
I'm only beginning to decipher the subtleties. It can also mean "thanks" (as when you are served something at a restaurant), or "you're welcome" and "no problem".
These last few days have been spent indulging in a tropical beachside lifestyle. This beach (Arambol) is the northernmost developed beach in Goa, and doesn't have the burned out, washed up feel of Anjuna and the British expat beaches to the south.
There is fierce competition among the new age health programs and courses here, with possibilities to take reiki, yoga, capoeira, tai chi, thai massage, and meditation. Somehow, the proliferation of options turns me off to the whole idea. I did take a tabla lesson from a guy named "raj", and if I can get my hands on some to practice with, I'll continue the studies.
Gotta run, time for a Chai.

Hello Sir Banana Pineapple Papaya

2007-01-09T21:14:00.000+07:00

Disclaimer: The formatting of this post is at the mercy of the "Zenith PC" brand computer I'm currently using, and any irregularities should be disregarded.

First to address the questions:
Tea
Tea is extremely popular, but it's a very different animal from back home. The popular and most commonly available tea is chai tea mixed with generous amounts
of sugar and milk. It's delicious and cheap, somewhere between 1 and 10
rupees (www.xe.com)
depending on where you are and how big the glass is. Coffee is almost
as popular, at least in the south. It is powdered but you won't know
the difference after all the milk and sugar is added. In touristy
places, you'll usually be served tea and coffee without sugar, to the
annoyance of those who have developed a taste for the local concoction.
Alcohol
The
availability and price of alcohol varies widely from state to state
within India. In a small town you'll typically have one or two "Wine
Shops", the local
term for liquor store, presumably because wine sounds classier. I
strongly suspect the beer, whiskey, rum, gin, and vodka outsell the
wine by far. The beer is decent. Local brews include the popular Kingfischer
as well as Cobra, Knock Out, and a half dozen others. On the cheap side
you'll pay RS 35-40 in a wine shop (So far I've only found this in Pondicherry, which has an autonomous government outside the reach of the Tamil Nadu alcohol tax) while in most other areas it's RS 60-80, which could be the cost of your hotel room.
Of course if you're really daring and not too attached to your sense of sight, you could content yourself with some uber-dodgy local spirits, probably brewed from cow's piss and coconuts, and save yourself a few dozen rupees.
In some places alcohol is forbidden (Hampi),
while in other places it is frowned upon. Going to the wine shop
sometimes feels like going to the methadone distribution place, with
passersby casting disapproving looks as choose your brew. In contrast,
here in Goa wine shops are abundant and the stigma around alcohol is
all but non-existent. Still, you won't find people drinking outside
publicly in parks or on the street (with the exception of foreigner
tourists), though I presume it is legal.
3) Religion Just being inside the inner sanctum of a hindu temple certainly feels like being a part of an intense ritual. I haven't cast aside all possessions and gone to live with the sidhu's
just yet, but religion is such an integral part of Indian life that
it's really impossible to be here and not have contact with it and feel
the people's devotion.

After one night on Anjuna beach in Goa,
where the prices are double to triple what you would pay a few
kilometers away, and tourists outnumber locals 3 to 1, I've moved
inland to the capitol city of Panaji . I feel I've returned to the real
India now, though Goa has a very different character. The Portuguese
certainly left their mark in the religion and architecture. It's
cleaner here than other cities, and more people dress in the western
style. People speak English very well, and there is more of an
indifference to foreigners rather than the fascination with them (us) in other regions.

Recently
I've been thinking about the influence of tourism on India. In places
with a heavy concentration of tourists, the people have adjusted to a
new economy based almost exclusively around extracting money from them.
This makes sense given the difference in purchasing power between the
rupee and euro, pound, dollar or yen. Something which is nothing to us
could represent a few days of hard work in the rice fields. The locals
in these places can embrace the lifestyle, open a restaurant serving
lasagna, or be left in the dust, and probably be driven out of their
now-prime property by someone with more ambition.
A
few people have confided to me their nostalgia for the way of life in
their village 20 years ago (more in some places), and I suspect whether
consciously or
not, most people led richer, more joyful lives before the arrival of
the white man.

That's ludicrous! The dollars flowing in
could be saving people from starving, providing much needed income for
education,
and health care, and giving people who would otherwise have no
opportunity to travel the chance to interact with people from vastly
different cultures and even
learn their languages.

Well
I can't really argue with that, but when I look at the smiles on the
dirty faces of the poor families in the rural villages and compare them
with the scowls of the
restaurant owners in tourist centers, unhappy because they have no
customers with so much competition, I can't help but think that some of
our obsession with commerce and our greed has rubbed off on the people
there.

Well
if you're such a fanatic about preserving the people's way of life how
can you yourself travel and exacerbate the so-called
problem?

oops.

The long awaited update

2007-01-05T13:31:00.000+07:00

Here in Hampi, one can see many temples and ruins dating from the 16th century. It seems the internet connection was installed around the same time, judging from the speed and reliability of the connection. On top of that, the internet shops have a sweet little business going, charging double the rate of a good connection in any other place.
That said, it's been a relaxing period of isolation from the modern world. I've learned how to wash my clothes in the river.
I think I'm giving a rather skewed impression of the place. It's a kind of tourist retreat. I have access to a plethora of banana pancake flavors here, and Israeli food to satisfy even the most oppressive falafel craving.
My weakness for tea and relaxation have gotten the best of my travel ambitions, and I'm peacefully wiling the days away by the river, reading, staring at magnificent boulders and exploring the otherworldly landscapes here. I'm also taking ungodly amounts of photos, which I will upload once I've returned to the land of broadband internet.

Hampi New Year

2006-12-31T00:03:00.000+07:00

It's been go-go-go for me over the last few days (not in the Soi Cowboy sense). One day a-piece in small dusty bazaar towns, and we're talking about the real frontier, places the Lonely Planet doesn't even mention. If you whip out that atlas of India I'm sure you have tucked away in your attic, look for the following towns in order: Tiruvanamalai, Vellore, Tirupathi/Tirumala, Cudapa, and now Balani. Three states in which three different languages are spoken. That's India.
If there's one thing about travel I despise, it's the traveling. I mean the real down-and-dirty kind. The absolutely psychotic bus drivers screaming down the wrong lane, narrowly avoiding 100 km/hr head on-collisions. But I seem to be the only one gripping the hand railing so hard my hand bleeds, so maybe these busses are equipped with some sort of bat-mobile technology that makes the bus jump up 20 feet on rolling stilts, allowing the oncoming bus to pass safely beneath.
These little random towns are beginning to mash together in my memory, inseperable from one another, and all sharing the same basic elements: Horns, exhaust, of course chai, garbage, stunning temples.
I'll have more for you after the new year, when my head is clear and I'll be quietly resting near the Krishna river in Hampi.

Meals and Tiffin

2006-12-28T22:09:00.000+07:00

One of the greatest joys of staying in India is the marvelous and unbelievably cheap food. Being most familiar with North Indian food from restaurants back home, I've had a chance to try new things at virtually every meal. Basically, South Indian food doesn't use wheat (such as in naan, chapati, roti, etc) but only rice. The rice is mashed, baked, and fried into quite a variety forms such as the spongy idly, popular at breakfast time of for a snack.

It comes down to this: I pretty much laze around various towns and cities sipping chai and coffee, snacking, chatting, and lounging about all day. From time to time I go to see a temple, pet a cow, ride a bike, etc, but my life here mostly revolves around chai and tiffin (a british-raj era term for snack). I'm not one of these travelers that likes to set a strict itinerary and see as many of Lonely Planet's recommended sights as possible. I prefer to just sort of drift about and see where the wind takes me. If one were to take a red pen and draw a line of the course I have taken since landing in Chennai a week ago, they would conclude that I was probably getting lit before every departure, going to the bus station, and picking the place that had the name I liked best. Tiravunamalaiaiaiaiaiai.... mmmmmm.

But no! I have maintained relative sobriety throughout the trip, and complete sobriety while in bus and train stations! And somehow I'm still only 3 hours from Chennai, making a sort of spiral outwards from Chennai. Screw you Lonely Planet, and screw your customized four-to-six-week itinerary. I'll go to the place you describe as a "dusty little bazaar town with little to detain tourists" if I please. And I'll love it, because I'm the only whitey here (because you've scared them all away).

And where am I going with all this? Nowhere, because I don't have to, and if you don't believe me than refer to the first post where I warned this blog would be completely raw, unedited, and probably unreadable. Go ahead, check it.

But getting back to the things I love about India:
1) The food.
2) The wonderful variety of animals roaming about the streets of the villages and cities (cows, water buffaloes, dogs, elephants, the list goes on).
3) The perpetual smell which drifts about in some mixture of incense, shit, coriander, and piss. But it's better than that sounds (the incense is really good).
4) The price (cheap).
5) The concise speaking habits of the locals.
6) The enthusiasm of Indians for having their picture taken - "excuse me sir, one picture please" is a phrase I'm likely to hear whenever I take the camera out.

From here I'll make tracks for Hampi, some place north and west of here, for New Year's. Thanks to all those that have written back and commented on the entries. It's nice to hear from you.

Have a Pondicherry Christmas

2006-12-26T13:47:00.000+07:00

The French were kicked out of Pondicherry a good decade or so after the English left the rest of India, so the east side of the canal running through the city something of a "Little Paris". While walking home on December 24th there was some celebratory commotion a few blocks down. The source was a massive Cathedral hosting a midnight mass, and throngs of Indians in the church and many more spilling out into the courtyard to listen to the mass in Tamil language.

I've been here in Pondicherry for the past 3 days, not because it's magnificent, but rather I'm just a bit lazy and taking time to build of travel momentum. Today I'll move to Tiruvannamalai, one of the most important pilgramage spots in Southern India. During each full moon, thousands of pilgrims come to worship. The full moon isn't until the Friday after next (it's a pity that stellar objects don't adjust themselves to accomodate my travel plans) so I'll miss that.

I've purchased a full set of Southern Indian garb - a sarong and white collared top, and "dish towel" to dab the sweat. I feel very regal walking the streets.

I wandered into a large Hindu temple last night to find some sort of ceremony taking place. I was urged to join and watch. Afterwards I was served a vegetarian Indian dinner, served on banana leaf (my Christmas dinner). It was perfect. I later learned it was a 60th wedding anniversary, and that the 60th wedding anniversary is a very important one, celebrated with as if it were a new wedding.

While heading home with a friend, we more sounds of celebration coming from inside a building. At first the guard outside was reluctant to permit us entry, but finally gave in. Inside was a rather bizarre scene. An Indian band played on a stage and everywhere there were Indian men (no women!) dancing and drinking with great enthusiasm. Like everything else, closing time came soon, at about 9:30.

Until next time...

What's your good name?

2006-12-23T21:40:00.000+07:00

Just arrived in Pondicherry, about 3 hours south of Chennai. I spent the last couple of days in the little sculptors paradise town of Mahaliburum, a lovely little town by the sea. It's famous throughout India (and the world) for producing sculpture, and anywhere you go you'll hear the clinkety clack of artists busy producing everything from tiny Ohm signs to put on necklaces to massive sculptures to be shipped to temples or homes and businesses abroad.

Yesterday I watched a cow eat a cardboard box. People who own cows bring them into the city in the morning, where they can feed on various rubbish before making their way back to their homes at night. The cow literally ate the whole box. Apparently they eat plastic as well.

No illness to speak of just yet, though I have been drinking water put in front of me in restaurants from questionable sources. Foolish? Perhaps, but what is a trip to India if you don't spend a couple of hours (though hopefully not more than a couple of days) wretching over a filthy shit-smeared squat toilet, right?

Today held plenty of excitement as well, with my first hitch-hiking in India. Pondicherry is apparently a hot place to be during Christmas time, so all of the buses going there were full to the brim with people, hanging out of the open door for dear life. I was determined to get on the next one, even if it meant riding on the roof-rack, but before I got a chance (hopefully I'll get to try that later) a couple a businessmen pulled over and gave me a lift. Quick, comfortable, free tea stop...

I'm constantly laughing and smiling in this place. Everywhere you turn there's some surprise, some magical thing, or some amazing person. Indians are unbelievably friendly and many people have remarkable English skill, so people constantly strike up conversations with me everywhere I go. And then they're gone, and the next person takes their place. And on and on and on. As one fellow traveler commented, you're never alone in India.

Sorry, no photos just yet, but I have been taking plenty of video and pictures. Have patience... and a wonderful Christmastime (I'll be here in Pondicherry practicing Indian dance and sipping on the best f'ing Chai tea in the world).

India: First Impressions

2006-12-20T23:59:00.001+07:00

Today I arrived in India! The plane was delayed a whopping 4 hours so I didn't get in until after dark. In the end I left my laptop in Bangkok (a shout out to Andy who's taking care of my baby). What does this mean for you? No pictures and video unless I can find a place/way to upload them. For me, it means I won't be able to use cute graphics and videos as a cover for my half-assed prose. but as soon as I get a chance I'll share some photos.

After traveling in Morocco, I was prepared for the worst at the airport arrival gate. I strapped on my "I'm a hardened traveler so back off" look for the throngs of people waiting at the airport exit. But wait, these are just ordinary Indians waiting for their families to arrive! Not a tout in sight! What's going on?
Apparently Southern India is far less aggressive than the north.

Anyway, the city is really dirty and there doesn't seem to be a whole lot going on/to do here, so I'll head somewhere tomorrow.

Until next time...

Seth was here

2006-12-14T19:40:00.000+07:00

I've been to the countries in red.
create your own visited country map

The Indian Embassy a.k.a. Hell

2006-12-12T19:09:00.001+07:00

By now, I should be well used to the hilariously inconvenient and short times for visa applications and pick-ups at embassies. Nevertheless, I was a little surprised that, despite the sign saying "visa pick-up from 5 - 5:30 pm", the windows remained curtained and the staff absent in that little room until 5:40. What else could I and the other 200 people do but wait though, considering they have our passports.
Not exactly a cheap visa, this:
Visa fee: 5500 yen
Telex (?) fee: 3250 yen
Fee for being American (no kidding!): 2500 yen
Total: 11250 yen ($96.67)
ouch!

Since I spent all my money at the embassy, I've had to cut down on other costs. Here's a photo of tonight's dinner:note the mismatching chopsticks
cabbage: 25 yen
natto: 33 yen
miso soup: 33 yen
egg: 25 yen
rice: 99 yen
total: 215 yen ($1.85)
not too bad!

A travelogue is born

2006-12-10T17:38:00.000+07:00

In exactly one week I leave my cushy Tokyo life for the Asian mainland: First Bangkok, then on to India, and from there, who knows? You'll just have to check back often to find out.
Be warned that the posts here will be unedited, dirty, raw, travel ramblings. I won't have time for your "paragraphs" and "sentences" while I'm fleeing capture by sabre armed raiders.
In addition to the written word, it is my intention to provide you with plentiful helpings of visual and audio material to be picked up and transmitted to you in the comfort of your home using my über-media-geek package consisting of: my trusty if slightly outdated powerbook G4, my brand spankin new 'HD is for losers' Panasonic DVX 100B video camera and my 'I'm too crappy to steal' sony DSC-S90. Thanks in advance to YouTube and Flickr for hosting the media.

Check back later in the week to find out if I will get my overpriced Indian visa in time for my flight to Bangkok.