tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30797593190293126782024-03-18T22:45:37.949-07:00Andrea's TravelsI am out traveling for awhile....here is what I am up to!Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-70188548511242481962009-12-15T03:54:00.000-08:002009-12-18T00:41:42.250-08:00The end (of only the beginning)My last few weeks of traveling have been a mixture of experiences and emotions. As my trip is winding down...I frequently ask myself if I am actually ready to go home. I am exhausted and homesick, but am I ready to go back to reality just yet???<br /><br />I continued traveling up the west coast of India with a few girls I met in the ashram. Interestingly, we were all towards the end of our travels....so we shared similar feelings of excitement and apprehension. Each of us in different stages in our lives and each of us returning to a home that would not be the same as we had left it.<br />After a few relaxing days in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">cliff side</span> town of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Varkala</span>, three of us decided to head up to another village called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Gokarna</span>. I was responsible for getting the train tickets lined up. The sales clerk told me the train left at 6pm and that the tickets would be ready for pickup in a few hours. After I picked up the tickets I gathered the girls together and we got to the train station. As we viewed the board and compared it to our tickets, we realized the train didn't leave until 10pm. For some reason I didn't even think about looking at the actual ticket and just went by what the sales clerk told me. Needless to say, I felt a little bad that I made everyone arrive 5 hours before the actual train was departing. To smooth over the situation, I convinced everyone to walk over to the small <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">dhaba</span> (local restaurant) to sip <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">chai</span> tea and hang out a bit. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Gemma</span>, a nutritionist from the UK, had finished a 10 day detox program in Thailand before entering the yoga ashram. She is very conscious of her diet and once a week does a "raw" day to help keep up with her detox. We all decided to do the raw day together on the train journey.<br />The train was about 15 hours long and we did our best to sleep through the hustle and bustle of people getting on and off. The next morning I woke up to oily skin, greasy hair, and a hungry stomach. "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Chai</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Chai</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Chai</span>....Marsala <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Chai</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Chia</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Chai</span>!" yelled the tea guy as he walked up and down the aisles of the train. I presumed that spicy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">chai</span> tea was not on the "raw" diet so I watched him pass as my stomach gave a rumble. We had a few mandarins with us so I just munched on some of those...feeling unsatisfied. The morning turned to afternoon as we still sat in the bus watching the coast pass us by. The mandarins were gone and nothing raw had passed us in the train stations. Finally, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Gemma</span> cracked. She looked at me with hungry eyes and said "this probably wasn't the best day to do the raw diet. I say we eat the next thing that someone comes on to sell." Obviously, I agreed with her and we waited for a few more moments until a man with piping hot tea and a basket full of goodies came by. He was selling fried lentil cakes and savory donuts. Pretty much as far away from raw that you could get. We inhaled 4 each.<br />We had to transfer trains a few hours away from our destination, but didn't have tickets yet. When we bought the tickets we realized there was no seat number. Apparently, they were the "no reservation" tickets which meant it was a free for all and first come first serve. I felt a little dismal by this as we all had huge backpacks and yoga mats strung around our bodies. The likelihood of us getting seats together with all of our luggage was slim. When the train arrived we ran with the masses to the free for all section. Indians were squeezing through the doors and windows and trying to get a spot. Somehow, we managed to get in a cabin together and threw our luggage on the top rack. More and more people kept cramming on and before long we were squished together like a pack of sardines. Some of the Indians climbed up into the luggage racks to lay down. There was no space left unattended. A young Indian man...perhaps in his 20s...was sitting next to me. He kept smiling at us and trying to make light conversation. "What is your good name mam?" "What lovely country is missing such a beautiful girl?"...all the same old questions that the Indian men ask over and over and over again. I went with the dialogue for a bit, but was not in the mood to entertain the conversation for long. I grabbed my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Ipod</span> and tried to tune out for the remainder of the trip. The man motioned to me for something, but I didn't understand him. I took out my headphone to hear him better. He smiled and grabbed the headphone out of my hand and put it in his so ear that we were both listening to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">ipod</span> through one ear each. I was a little taken back by his abruptness, but I just sat back and tried not to let it get to me. Moment by moment, the man inched his way closer to me. Finally, he was resting his arm into my side. It was as if he was trying to get as much of his body to touch my body as possible. We were all crammed together, but everyone else kept their limbs to themselves and tried their best to not touch. This guy was getting more and more peculiar by the moment and I wasn't really sure what was happening. I thought it was all strange, but I didn't want to overreact. As he leaned more and more into me and smiling and finally placed his hand on my knee. I started to fidget and shrugged him off of me. However, he slowly made his way back to touching my legs and hips. I pushed him off again and then grabbed my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">ipod</span> away...giving him a "dude that is not cool" look. A Muslim woman wearing a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">burka</span> was sitting across from us and stared at me like I was this loose western woman provoking the whole scene. I started to feel very uncomfortable. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Gemma</span> and Robyn started noticing it as well and we all decided to stand at the doorway the remainder of the trip. It is unfortunate...and I am not generalizing ALL Indian men, but a lot of them have this image of western woman as being easy and provocative. Intimacy and love is very hush hush and kept behind closed doors in this culture. Sometimes certain men will overcompensate their feelings on foreign woman. Because of this, the scene I am describing now is very common while traveling in India. They will stare at you, pester you, and sometimes even grab you on the streets. The young man got up and walked to me at the doorway and leaned in to whisper "You are getting off in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Gokarna</span> yes? May I come stay with you...we could have fun?" and then gave me a sleazy smile. I just rolled my eyes and ignored him.<br />Finally, after a long train journey and the creepy man, we made it to our destination. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Gokarna</span> was a lovely coastal village. There are 4 beaches around it in which you hike 30 minutes in between to each. I really enjoyed the village and if I ever come back to India, I hope to spend more time there. It was only a quick stop though, our final destination was the infamous Goa.<br />In the 60s and 70s, Goa was this thriving party area where people would practice free love, experiment with drugs, and live like aimless hippies for months at a time. Nearly 40 years later, the beaches kind of have a "has been" feel to it, but nonetheless....you can still have a good time. A few years ago, the government enforced a noise ordinance in Goa. To get around this, they now throw "Silent" rave parties almost every night. This is where you have your own headphones while you have an option of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">listening</span> to several music channels. People drink and get crazy while jamming out to their own music. It is quite entertaining to walk into a bar with no loud music and see 100s of people dancing to their own beat. When I first saw this, I stood there laughing at all the ridiculous people. But it wasn't long before I got my own headphones...and as we put it..."Entered the Bubble". We would stand around talking to one another and then be like..."<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Ok</span>, I am going back into the bubble...talk to you in a few"...and then put on the headphones to jam out. One night a few of us were at the silent rave and sitting at a table. There was another table about 15 feet from us with a tall long haired guy at it. He was sitting alone and looking around. I was in a goofy mood and yelled "Hey...how are you doing over there?" He replied with some sort of gibberish like "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Heyyyy</span>...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">goshprack</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">blafff</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">nerffffda</span>". I thought this was sort of funny and figured he was just having some fun, so we started speaking gibberish back to him. He seemed to be getting a kick out of it as well and we went back and forth a few times. Finally I yelled..."Dude...just come sit over here with us." He got the biggest smile on his face and stood up to come join us. As he started walking over, we immediately realized the guys functionality was not working AT ALL. He stumbled over to our area in an awkward way and tried to get to the empty seat. In doing this, he tripped a bit and nearly fell head first into the seat of the chair. Somehow he caught himself right before his head hit and then he stopped. For that split second something must have triggered in his mind like "abort mission...abort mission" because all of a sudden he sprinted full speed back to the table he came from. He crashed straight into the table and flew over onto this other person nearly breaking his own neck. He then got up and fell back again and then somehow made it back to his chair. He looked around quizzically as if he had no idea what had just taken place. Basically kids....say no to drugs! If I had a video montage of my trip, this moment would have been in the top 3 of craziest scenes ever. We all looked around at each other in astonishment and couldn't believe what had just happened. I felt horrible because it was my egging that almost led to his abrupt death from a wooden table. But at the same time I couldn't stop laughing. I cried I laughed so hard....it was my official crazy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Goan</span> Drug story. For the rest of the night we joked with each other about it, but at the same time hoped that the dude on acid made it home alright.<br />I decided since I was in India, that it would be fun to get some henna designs on my arms. Henna is a short term dye that woman decorate their skin with. It usually lasts about 2-4 weeks.<br />So I was walking through the streets of Goa and asked this local Indian woman where I could go to get some henna done. I figured there would be a salon somewhere close by. She insisted that she could do my henna for a good price. I was a little weary about it, but I figured she was Indian...and probably every Indian woman can do henna, right? She looked around cautiously and told me to watch out for police. She did not have a license and we would have to go back to her house for her to do it. "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Ohhhh</span> Boy" I thought...."here we go." You may ask yourself why I didn't just ignore the woman and go find a proper salon. The truth is, at this point I wasn't so concerned with the henna as I was intrigued by going into the local neighborhood and having a chance to peak inside someones home. So I followed this woman through the shacks and shambles of the poor class in Goa. We came upon a mud hut that was partially covered with a blue tarp. This was her home. Inside was a bed and a small gas burner surrounded by dirty kitchenware. She flicked on a light and excitedly pointed to the miniature ceiling fan that she had installed with dodgy wiring. I think she was stealing electricity from the house next door because the thin wires were coming from that direction. She grabbed a small tube of henna and we went to sit outside. Some locals burning their trash were staring in our direction. Chickens and pigs horded around us as she began the process. During the henna, she talked about how her family abandoned her and she was too poor to take care of herself. She went on and on about how the police won't let her work and she has a hard time paying for food. Minute by minute I was wondering why I had gotten myself in this situation. She seemed to be more interested in telling me about her family problems then working on the henna. Half the time she was looking at me while she was squeezing the dye onto my arm. The lines were not straight and I was puzzled as to if this was actually how proper henna was done. She insisted that her designs were good and the style was very traditional. I felt removed from the situation as if I was just watching it from a distance. Trying to take in the surroundings and conversation of the woman. However, the longer and longer she painted, the more I knew that it was a disaster. Finally I snapped out of it and made her stop, but the damage was done. I wasn't sure if she was taking the piss out of me or if she was just a sandwich short of a picnic. But literally, it looked as if a 3 year old got a hold of a permanent marker and went to town on my arms. She wanted to do the other side of my arm, but I finally told her that it was enough. I payed her some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">rupees</span> and went home to see how much I could scrub off. The dye had already soaked in...so the hideous henna job was going to be on me for awhile. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Ohhhh</span> India....never a dull moment :)<br />I am now in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Mumbai</span> (Bombay) spending my last few days here before I fly out. The city is surrounded with architecture from the Raj empire...streets are filled with small shops selling anything from watches to clothes to spices. Uptown university kids talk in perfect English about world politics or the latest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Bollywood</span> flick. Old men trade stories around <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Beedi</span> stands (handmade cigarettes) or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">chai</span> stalls. Holy cows roam through the parks as old woman sweep the dirt off....the dirt. Professional men walk briskly to work, but always take the time to pray at a passing Hindu monument. As my last few days wind down I am trying my hardest to really pay attention to everything happening around me. I must admit, India was pretty intense when I first arrived, but somehow...each day I grew more and more fond of it. With the bizarre organized chaos, religious devotion, and food that tantalizes each taste bud....how can you not succumb to it eventually?<br />It's true what they all say. If you visit India for 2 weeks, you probably won't like it, but stay longer then that and you will slowly fall in love. I am looking forward to coming back here someday and visiting the areas I wasn't able to get to this time around.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Ahhhhhh</span> at last, we come to the end of the journey...<br />One of my favorite quotes that I say to myself is..."and this, too, shall pass". It originates from a Jewish wisdom folktale involving King Solomon.<br />This sentence is true in all situations...whether the circumstance be good or bad. It can make a day seem brighter or remind you to not become too proud. It has allowed me to get through some painful bus journeys and to also be humbled when I feel invincible.<br />And throughout this journey I had always known....that this too shall pass....and it would come to an end someday. It has been an unforgettable adventure and I wish I had the energy to continue on....but I feel inside that it is time to head home.<br />This will be my last blog for this trip. However, I hope that it will not be my last blog ever...as I plan to have plenty more travels in my future.<br /><br />Fourteen<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"></span> months is a long time to be on the road. Originally I had set out to move slowly through countries as I immersed myself into the cultures. Somehow along the way though, I never slowed down....just kept on moving...searching for the next adventure. I visited many countries, met some amazing people, and opened my eyes to new things. I now know that there is other food out there besides Mexican and I am no longer limited to using just a western style toilet.<br />For some reason, I thought that I would go travel the world....figure out life and find all the answers. I visioned myself returning home someday with a peaceful aura around me and confident about the person I had become. Well, the exact opposite seemed to happen. I am more lost then I was before I left. It's like the saying goes...."The more you learn, the less you know."<br /><br />My mind has been exposed to so many things over the past year....<br />Issues that I was certain I had a grasp on and a strong opinion about have changed. The way I perceive my own culture and my own country has changed (in both negative and positive ways). The history and governments of other countries has given me a new light in how this world we live in is getting more and more tangled up. Humanity....oh humanity....I feel we are at a tipping point and I just pray that it tips in a better direction. I always thought I had a decent grasp on life, but I realize that I a nowhere close. I have more compassion, but at the same time am more cynical. My patience has strengthened, but I have no problem being tough. I've opened my mind to religions, but wonder if faith is worth all the sacrifice.<br />And when I keep thinking about all these trivial issues....my head begins to hurt.<br /><br />If there are two things that I can take from this journey...they are that this world is ever changing. History is the present and the present is the future and everything changes minute by minute. It is something that I am learning to accept....as challenging as it may be.<br />And lastly....as confused as I am about myself and the world that I live in, I do know this...that I can handle most situations on my own and that I will survive.<br /><br />For those of you who labored through my blog....(Mom and Dad), Thanks!<br />I hope you have enjoyed listening to my rambles, experiences, and perspectives of the world I traveled through.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-19183456436544685322009-11-22T22:17:00.000-08:002009-12-01T00:23:39.857-08:00Ashram life<div>India is a land of religious and spiritual devotion. With Hinduism, Muslim, Buddhism, Sikhism, Jainism, Zoroastrianism, Christianity, and a handful of other religions I have never heard of....you can't go far without coming face to face with it. It is in the people, the buildings, the streets, rivers, animals, music, movies, art, and tourists. Even the people who aren't as devout as others (such as my tour guide DJ), religion is still a part of their foundation of life.</div><br />I for one, did not come to India on some crazy spiritual life quest. However, many people travel here for this reason specifically....to find a religious or spiritual path different from the mainstream West. Some are just on a 2 week holiday where they cram as much spirituality in as they can, while others nestle into a few years of the Indian lifestyle. You don't have to travel far to find a deep philosophical conversation or a temple to kneel in.<br />As my long journey is coming to an end and my traveling patience is getting shorter and shorter, I decided to enroll myself into a yoga ashram to tone things down a bit. I had no prior plans to do this and no idea what to expect. But since 1,000s travel to this country on a spiritual basis, I figured what better time then now to give it a whirl.<br /><br />For the past 2 weeks I enrolled myself into the <a href="http://www.sivananda.org/neyyardam/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Sivananda</span> Yoga Ashram</a> in South India<br /><br /><div>The first day was totally confusing for me as I wandered around trying to get into grips about the place I just entered. There were a few programs going on at the same time so about 300 people were living in the ashram. I met some other people and set up my space in the woman's dorm room. At around 5:45pm I heard a bell ring. This was to signify that it was almost dinner time. I walked to the dining hall and stood in line. When we entered the hall I saw rows and rows of reed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">mats</span> with metal plates and cups lined down them. You had to sit on the floor cross-legged and eat with your hands (right hand preferably) in silence. The meal was a watery vegetable soup and 2 fermented rice biscuits. Of course, the fat girl in me was like..."Dear God, I am going to starve for the next 2 weeks." I sat in silence and picked through the food....staring at all the people around me.<br /></div><br /><br /><div>After dinner, we all had to attend what is called the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Satsang</span>. This includes mediation and devotional chanting. This night was unique though, because they had built this fire pit surrounded by offerings to the Hindu gods. We meditated for only a few minutes and then everyone started chanting these <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sanskrit</span> Hindi songs and swaying back and forth. Some people were shaking the tambourine or playing bongo drums and really getting into it. After about 30 minutes of chanting people took offerings and threw them in the fire. After that, they <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">kneeled</span> on the ground in a praying position towards the fire and did some weird ritual head bobs and hand gestures. It was one of those moments in my life where I thought to myself..."If only my family could see me now." I was in the back of the crowd taking it all in and waiting for the Swami to say the world was going to end and then bring out a bowl of punch for all of us to drink. I was seriously feeling uncomfortable and didn't know what to do. I tried to keep an open mind....but it was hard for me to simply follow everyone else....especially since I didn't know who or what we were making the offerings to. Obviously, they were giving offerings to the Hindu gods and since I was not Hindu I did not feel the need to bow and pray to them. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed...so when I knelt I just thanked mother nature and prayed for the health and safety of my family. You have to pay a minimum of 3 days when you enter, so I knew I would stay for that amount of time at least. Hopefully the orientation the next morning would ease my discomforts.<br /><br />The following day I went to the orientation. Our teacher, whose "spiritual" name was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Janaki</span>, introduced the ashram lifestyle and rules to us.<br />The main rules were no alcohol/tobacco/drugs, strict vegetarian diet, no fornication, dress conservatively, lights out at 10pm, and the most important.....attend all classes each day.<br />The routine was rigorous and included 4 hours of yoga, 4 hours of meditation/chanting, 1 hour of karma yoga (a job you are assigned within the ashram), 2 meals, and a 1 hour lecture. The day started at 6am and ended at 10pm. Attendance to all of these were mandatory in order to remain in the ashram so it made for a long and busy day. After she went over all the details, she relaxed her shoulders, lightened her tone and smiled. She said " I know a lot of you are out of your comfort zone right now. For some, this is your first time to India and your first time in an ashram. An Ashram is a retreat. You are retreating from your normal life back home...from work, family, and society. This time is for you....it is your time to learn and gain knowledge from your teachers and peers spiritually, mentally, and physically. It is up to you how much you want to gain. Some things we will do will be very different then you are used to. I just ask one thing from you....allow yourself to be here these next 2 weeks. Open your mind and take this opportunity for yourself. It may not all make sense to you right now, but someday you may look back and understand it in a different light or experience. Mastering Yoga is not something you can do in just 2 weeks....but what you gain here will help with your foundations."<br />I immediately felt better. She tapped into all the weird emotions I was having and her ease and openness relieved me. She seemed quite normal and not some radical cult leader. But then my skepticism clicked in again and I figured that David <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Koresh</span> was probably a really captivating person and eased people into his beliefs as well. Then Ted <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Bundy</span> and his charming personality flashed in my mind and I began to fidget again.<br />Open mindedness versus skepticism battles broke out in my head, but finally I relaxed and decided to be open to learning. I reiterated to myself that it was my choice to be here. It didn't mean I had to start praying to Hindu gods or go spend 5 years meditating in a cave somewhere.....It just meant that I should take this time to learn something new. Regardless of anything else though, it was only for 2 weeks.<br />After orientation it was time for Brunch. I was STARVING!!!! I figured out that brunch is the larger meal of the day and I was excited to see vegetables and more vegetables on top of rice. I frantically shoveled the food into my mouth with my right hand like a wild animal. Others were doing the same around me since the dinner was so light the night before. Before long I could hardly move because I had eaten so much. I wasn't sure how much to eat because I didn't want to "wither" away in the next 2 weeks. Heaven forbid I don't get enough food! It took a few days for me to get used to the diet and how much food I needed to be eating. Given the circumstances though, the food was actually pretty good. Since we were here to study yoga, the diet was that of a true yogi. This meant that it was a strict vegetarian meal with no spices, garlic, or onion. Yogis do not eat anything that will cause stimulation to the body....therefore they don't eat spicy food, drink caffeine, or do drugs. It helps with meditation and brings you closer to "self awareness". It wasn't the most flavorful meals, but I enjoyed most of the dishes. However, over the course of the 2 weeks I had a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">carb</span> overload. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Carbs</span> and a mixture of gaseous vegetables did not do well for my digestive system and bowel movements. I am not sure if my body just went into shock from all the healthiness, but I was clogged up for the first week, then rushing to the bathroom the second week. Over time, I am sure my body would have gotten used to the diet and balanced itself back out. But for the 2 weeks it was not cooperating with me.<br /><br />When I arrived to the ashram, I thought yoga was just a bunch of vegetarian health nuts holding ridiculously hard postures on a foam mat. I learned quickly though, that the postures were only a small piece to the larger puzzle. Yoga means Union. Not the union between mind a body (which one would assume)...but the union between one's individual consciousness and the Universal Consciousness. The yoga postures are just one method used to reach a state of union with the divine. In the beginning of the course, we were taught the 5 points of Yoga. They are Proper Exercise, Proper Breathing, Proper Relaxation, Proper Diet, and Meditation. After the 5 principles....there are then 4 paths within yoga to help reach self awareness. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Sivananda</span> (1887-1963) was one of the most influential Yoga masters of the 20<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Th</span> century and is the inspiration behind the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Sivananda</span> Yoga Centers around the world. He advocated that integrating all 4 paths was the best way to achieve the Universal Consciousness. Our lectures were teaching us the foundations of the 4 paths.<br /><br />One of the paths is Karma Yoga. This is the path of action or selfless service. It is doing something with no reward or monetary gain. Mother Theresa is probably the best example to use for this path. To live in the ashram you get assigned a karma yoga (job) to help keep things up and to learn selfless acts of duty. Some of the jobs are better then others. For instance, working in the boutique seems much more appealing then cleaning the dorm bathrooms. I must have good karma though because I landed the "coolest" job in the ashram...working at the Health Hut. The Health Hut is the ashram hang out and a place students go to for fruit juices and healthy snacks if the included meal didn't fill them up. A group of us were assigned the night shift. The first night of work, my so called "cool" karma yoga turned out to not be so cool. Our boss was this crazy Venezuelan lady who would start yelling in Spanish when she was stressed out. She had the tough love approach and would blatantly tell us how bad we were doing, but then at the end of the night laugh, hug, and smile at us as if everything were wonderful in the world. For about 1 minute she showed us around the kitchen and said everything was easy and that we should have no problems. A few of us asked if we should learn how to make drinks and figure out where things were. But she replied "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Shanti</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Shanti</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Shanti</span>" (Peace, peace, peace) and that it was all easy and we would figure it out as we worked. So basically, we had no training and didn't know where anything was located. At 6:30pm, I peaked outside to see a line heading out the door. Apparently, I wasn't the only one worried about withering away with the ashram food and people came flocking to the health hut each night for more snacks.<br />You would think...being in an ashram where we are studying yoga and meditation and searching for the ultimate goal of world peace that people would be pretty easy going, right? Well if it is one thing I have learned....it is that you should NEVER come between a hungry ashram student and a banana milkshake. The first night was a disaster! As we foresaw, no one knew how to prepare anything or where any utensils were located. We had a pile of tickets growing and growing, people yelling at us for taking too long, and about 6 of us running around like chickens with our heads cut off. "I need 3 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">chai</span> teas, 2 fruit salads one without papaya, 4 plain toasts, a banana milkshake"....and so on and so on. There were 15 orders of toast waiting and it took us about 30 minutes to realize that bread was not even in stock that night. People hastily returned their lukewarm teas and chunky milkshakes. The whole "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">shanti</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">shanti</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">shanti</span>" concept went down the drain when the first ticket came through the window. It was probably the most unsuccessful work day of my entire life. I knew it would be the worst of it because the next day we would have a better understanding of the logistics of the kitchen. Until then though, I decided not to tell anyone in my dorm that I worked in the Health Hut kitchen.....it was that embarrassing.<br /><br />At 6am the next morning I headed to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Satsang</span> to meditate and chant. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Satsang</span> classes were the most difficult sessions for me to get through. Sitting cross legged for 30 minutes while silently meditating and then chanting Hindu <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Sanskrit</span> for another 1.5 hours was not my cup of tea. On this particular morning, I decided my 1 goal for this session was to sit cross-legged and hold my position without moving. We spent most of our days sitting on the ground and it took a toll on the body. My back and legs were constantly aching as my body took revenge on my 27 years of bad posture. As we went into silent meditation, my mind was far from detaching from my ego and I had one goal only....don't move for 30 minutes. I closed my eyes and focused energy on my third eye and said "OM" over and over in my head. I tried to visualize myself sitting in a perfect meditation posture for days and days ....not moving a muscle. The first few minutes went by quickly, but then my right foot started to go numb. I managed to remain still for a few more minutes, but my spine started to ache again and my left foot felt like pins and needles. One of the bug bites on my arm started to itch but I resisted to scratch it as I continued to focus on my mission. I could feel the sweat building up on my upper lip and my left foot finally went numb as well. For a moment, I wondered if people ever lost the ability to walk from remaining in the meditation pose for so long. Surely this was not good for the blood circulation. .......Geez...how long has it been already??? 25 minutes maybe? I sure hope so!<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Ok</span>...FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS.....no pain no gain. Om Om Om Om. With all these thoughts and aches running through my body, I began to get angry and anxious. The meditation isn't over until the Swami says "Om"...so I started visualizing him leaning over into the microphone and humming "OM' in his low strong voice. Come on.....when are you going to say it. Say "OM"....say "OM".....hurry...please....say "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">OMMMMMM</span>"...OM...OM...OM....come on you can do it...OMMM...Say flipping <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">OMMMMMMMMMMMM</span>!!!<br />Just when I was about to give up, I heard the click of the microphone and his voice drawled out a long "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">OMMMMM</span>". I instantly opened my eyes and had to manually grab my legs with my hands to unravel them since they were both numb and plopped them out in front of me. I achieved my goal, but completely defeated the purpose of the meditation process. I wasn't any closer to self awareness. After this egotistical experience (I was pretty proud of myself for not moving) I decided....it was time to reach into my inner self and stop playing these silly games to help pass the time. It was probably better to just shift my body a bit and focus more on detaching from my consciousness. Over the course of the 2 weeks, I never was able to fully detach myself from my ego and get away from my thoughts. A few times I felt really close to it, but wasn't sure if it was me just falling closer to sleep or not. Meditation is not something that comes easily I have a long ways to go. People practice for years and lifetimes to achieve self awareness. It was my first time to ever try it and I definitely built a good foundation for future practice....if it is something that I decide to incorporate into my life.<br /></div><br /><div>My fellow peers were people of all ages and from every part of the world. Holland, Norway, Israel, Iran, UK, Australia, Hungary, South Africa, Japan, China, Mexico, and Brazil....just to name a few. With such diversity, it made for really interesting discussions. A lot of the times my head would hurt because we would take the conversation to non tangible levels. As I mentioned earlier, yoga is not just an exercise, but a lifestyle change. The lecture would start with the basic principles of yoga and then turn into these full blown question and answer debates. I really enjoyed hearing different philosophies and ideas and comparing them to my inner thoughts. We discussed God, reincarnation, collective consciousness, devotion (how it works with any religion), diet, environment, positive thinking, tolerance versus acceptance, and all sorts of other mind numbing topics.<br /></div><br /><div> </div>Not all was glamorous and fun at the ashram though. 4 hours of yoga and 4 hours of meditation and devotion each day started to take a toll on each of us both mentally and physically.<br /><div>Sometimes negativity or inner problems can surface in environments like this because it really is a full-on intense process. The staff had warned us at the beginning of the program that things can come up. They even offered counseling throughout the day. A few people had break downs or ended up leaving because they couldn't handle the ashram environment for various reasons. My biggest struggle was being around extreme people and learning an extreme way of life. I strongly evaluated my own lifestyle in comparison with what we were being taught. I think it was just a lot of extremities in such a short amount of time. At first, I told myself that by entering the ashram I was taking a baby step to learning more about this particular lifestyle. But this was far more then a baby step. Some days it took a lot of effort for me to think positive and keep my energy going. The chanting was becoming more and more difficult for me to participate in. I think being devotional is a personal thing and chanting was not my specific channel of choice. It works for some people.....like the "happy-go-lucky" staff for instance, but I couldn't get into it. Towards the end of the 2 weeks I simply attended the devotional chantings only because it was mandatory.<br />One day, my friend Kristin and I were complaining to each other about the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Satsangs</span> and how we were losing our motivation about them. This girl who had arrived a week late and had only been in the ashram for 1 day overheard us and said "You realize it is just your ego talking to you right now and challenging you to not accept the chanting." Even if she was right...(any negative excuse is blamed on the ego) she hadn't been there for the full two weeks. I looked at Kristin and said "I give her 4 more days with the chanting sessions before she cracks."<br />Fortunately, every Friday was a free day. You were able to leave the ashram as long as you were back before 10pm. The staff offered field trips to tourist destinations in the area. I decided to sign up for them so I could see some parts of South India as well. The field trips were hilarious. There were about 50-60 students on them and you could tell we were super excited to be out of the ashram. We guzzled down coffee and ate chocolates and sweets. Some people snuck off to smoke cigarettes and have a cocktail (I chose not to drink for the entire 2 weeks). We snuggled into the comfortable bus seats and enjoyed not sitting cross legged on the hard floor. We talked about movies, music, and fun travel stories instead of chanting or meditating. It was a much needed break. It wasn't until our day off that I realized just how intense the program was.<br /></div><br /><div>The yoga <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">asanas</span> (postures) were progressive classes in which they teach us the 12 basic yoga postures. There are 84,000 postures in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Sivinanda</span> Yoga in which only 84 of them are mostly used. The 12 that we learned are the most important and the basic foundations into the other postures. The classes were challenging, but good and I feel that I now have the confidence I need to attend other yoga courses. I truly hope that I continue with yoga postures throughout my life. In just two weeks I was far more flexible and holding positions that I never visualized myself doing before. Under my layer of travel chub...I can feel that my strength has improved vastly.<br /><br />All-in all, the 2 week program was a positive experience. I would be lying if I said it was easy and always fun...because it wasn't. I had some good moments and bad moments and lots of frustration in between. I guess that is what happens when you challenge youself physically and mentally and start addressing the difficult questions about life. I am nowhere close to becoming a yogi and don't plan on being vegetarian (yet). But I learned a lot and hope to slowly incorporate some of those things into my life. As Janaki told me at the beginning....the things I learned in this program may effect me gradually througout my life rather then immediatly.<br /><br />On our last day, a big group of us headed to the reception. We handed in our sheets and mosquito nets and they handed back to us our wallets, cellphones, and computers. After our balance was taken care of we were given a "check out" card. WE WERE FREEEEEE!!!!!!!!<br /><br />There is this beautiful beach about 2 hours from the ashram called Varkala. It is a white sandy beach surrounded by gorgeous jagged cliffs. For the past few days a group of us have been enjoying the coastal winds and sounds of the waves. I have been drinking fresh fruit juices and eating grilled fish and vegetables (my first time to eat meat in 2 months!). Each morning I wake up to do my yoga session on the rooftop of the hotel. I feel great! I have about 2 more weeks left of my travels and plan on cruising up the west coast to Bombay where I fly out. Since it is winter back in Austin, I am going to soak up the sunny weather as much as possible.....<br /></div><br />Before I head back I will try to write one more blog to end my travels and sum up my journey. I hope all is well with everyone this holiday season and I look forward to seeing some of you real soon.<br />Namaste!<br /><div><br /></div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-21290423063022572212009-11-02T00:19:00.000-08:002009-11-13T01:49:35.304-08:00Holy Cow.....India!<div>Ohhhhh India....such a crazy country it is. My friend once told me that you could be in love with India at one moment, and then despise it the next.....and this is all very true. For instance, the other day I was riding in a beat up bus that looked as if it had been blown up from the inside out. How it was even running was beyond my knowledge. Anyways, I was sitting next to the window listening to my ipod and being enamored by the scenery outside. India is truly an amazing country. The sites, sounds, and smells are mind-blowing and it will be really hard to describe the things I am seeing and experiencing here. So there I was, reflecting on life and the world and being amazed by the village streets...kinda having a dream like moment, ya know? When all of a sudden WHAM! something flies all over me. At first I thought that this rapture like bird must have taken a massive shit and somehow it landed through the window on to me. But moments later I saw the kids laughing outside and looked down again to see that I was covered in mud and sand. I reached my head out the window to see this little prick of a kid running down the street laughing because he just threw mud all over a white girl on a bus. Anger came over me but there was nothing I could do because the bus was still moving. All of a sudden I was in a huff and a puff as I shook the mud off of me. The enchantment of India instantly lost. The streets that I was moments ago enamored with...now looked disgusting to me. The smell of urine and trash was lingering even heavier and the horn of the bus was louder then anyone could imagine. Finally, I breathed in deeply a few times and gathered my thoughts together( Something that I would have to do many times in this country) . It wasn't that big of a deal really, but it was just another reminder to me that this is what India is all about.....the highs and the lows and everything in between. From one extreme to another your senses are so heightened that each night it is hard to turn your mind off, but at the same time you can hardly keep your eyes open with exhaustion. </div><br /><div>The past few weeks have been a whirlwind and I have seen and experienced a lot. </div><br /><div>Digvijay (DJ), our guide, is really cool and I have learned a lot about the Indian culture through him. He is 24 and comes from the Hindu "Warrior" caste which is the second highest caste level. He is well educated and comes from a respected family in which his father is a doctor. What your father does, your education level, and caste status all play a role in how you are viewed in the society of India. However, in the past 10 years, western views are slowly coming in and it is not as big of a deal to marry outside of your caste or venture from the traditional religious norms. Things are progressing more and more to the western culture, but there is still a major Hindu influence everywhere you look. DJ is a bit unusual and is not your token Indian....he says he is different for 3 reasons. For one, he does not like spicy food. This is actually pretty crazy since most of the food contains some deliciously spicy mixes and normally wouldn't come close to making an Indian sweat. As for me, I love spicy food, but the food here has given me a run for my money in the heat department. Second, he is scared of the Holy cows. As you know, Hindus believe the cow is sacred and they don't eat the meat or wear leather. The cows are King of the streets and wander around wherever they please. I have seen men embracing them as they pass by. However, when DJ was younger, he had a traumatic run in with a cow and the fear has never left him. When we see a cow on the street he steers clear from it. And lastly, he is not religious. This is very interesting considering that religion appears to be the livelihood for most everyone in this country. His family is Hindu and he respects the religion, but he views it more as a tradition rather then the purpose of all life. His family tells him he will be born an outcaste in his next life, but he is not worried since he doesn't believe in it. He enjoys the philosophical approach and learning about other beliefs besides Hinduism. With that said, I have really enjoyed talking to him and asking him questions about his country. He in return, enjoys learning about our countries as well. He has never been out of India, but hopes to travel abroad someday soon.</div><br /><div> </div>The tour I did took us from Delhi, down through the state of Rajasthan, then over to Kolkata. This is the main touristy part of India which includes lots of forts, temples, and of course... the Taj Mahal. I had never been to a fort before, so those were extremely interesting. Some of them were built in the 12th century and the shear size and strength of them are awe inspiring. There are pictures of some of them on my Picasa. I wished I could go back into time and see how the fort looked with elephants, peasants, and kings around. Obviously, the Taj Mahal was a site to see as well. It is one of the prettiest structures I have ever seen and so much history surrounds it. My friend, Emma, and I ate some apples off the street the day before we went to the Taj. We both ended up getting pretty sick from it. So we weren't able to enjoy it as much as we hoped. She was dashing to the bathrooms and I was breaking a sweat as I walked around. I finally left and layed in bed all day. I had stomach issues when I visited Machu Pichu in Peru and my friend Robin coined it Machu Poo-Poo.....let's just say....we now call this place.. Terd Mahal!<br /><br />We saw many sites and visited several cities. But it was more India in itself that has been the experience for me. Every minute of every day is surrounded by things that I am not used to seeing. I knew it would be different over here and that was the biggest drawl for me. I will try to explain some of the daily sites and obstacles that I have faced.<br /><div>So, let me begin by taking you on a short ride on a rickshaw (small taxi) through the city streets. The first thing you will notice is the horrific and catastrophic traffic. There is no apparent order here. The rickshaw driver will aggressively weave in and out of traffic on whatever side of the street he pleases. He will rarely use his breaks (only at the VERRRRRYYYY last minute before a collision), but instead lay on his horn. The horns are atrocious. I am convinced that India would be a very peaceful country if the horns were simply removed from it. My head hurts and ears are ringing daily from the horns beeping everywhere. As we are driving, we are coming within centimeters of other vehicles, people, animals, bicycles, or food carts. All of these things are competing for space on the road and it is almost maddening. But somehow...it all works. Once you can comprehend the traffic situation and accept the fact that your life is now in the hands of your crazy rickshaw driver, you start to take notice of the other things around you. One of the most intriguing things are the Holy cows. The Holy Cow is King of the road here in India. They are large, dirty and can walk wherever they please. Often there will be a major traffic jam because some cows have decided to congregate in the middle of the streets. The Indians don't seem too worried about it though, because they love and respect the cows dearly. DJ thinks it is hilarious that the tourists are so captivated by the Holy Cows....I explained to him though, that I only see cows in pastures....not painted with flower necklaces walking through the city streets as they please. Another common site are camels or elephants roaming down the streets. Some will have a cart behind them pulling food and goods. Add to this dogs, pigs, chickens, water buffalo, goats, and rats and you can begin to understand how the average street in India is nothing like that in Austin, TX. </div><br /><div>There is litter and trash EVERYWHERE.<br />This is by far the dirtiest country I have ever been to. Rarely do I come across a public trash bin and I am constantly seeing the Indians throwing stuff on the ground. It is aggravating. Often we will drive past piles of rubbish being burned in the streets. When I walk around I see animals and people rummaging through the trash. DJ explained to me that there are plans to help alleviate the trash problem. The government and education system is trying to teach the younger generation about the environment and hoping to make an overall mental change. They have a long road ahead of them though. When I visited the Terd Mahal, I went outside one of the gates to the river. It was shocking to see how littered the river was only feet away from one of the prettiest buildings in the world. While I was standing there, several families came down and dumped large plastic bags of rubbish into the flowing river.....I couldn't believe it.<br />As you drive or walk down the streets, foul smells of trash and urine are entangled with the aroma of curries and fried breads. People use the bathroom anywhere they please. Mostly I see only men or boys and they urinate or shit in corners or on the sidewalks. If you see a wet spot anywhere, it is most likely urine. Some Indian men also chew on these things called Paan, which is a combination of betel leaf and certain types of nuts. They keep it in the side of their mouth and chew on it throughout the day spitting constantly. The paan turns their mouths blood red so when they talk to you it looks like their teeth are bleeding. You have to constantly watch that you don't get spit on.<br />In contrast to the dirty streets, roaming animals, polluted air, spitting men, and chaotic traffic are the beautiful Indian woman walking around in their stunningly colorful sarees. The traditional Indian woman do everything in their sarees....from working in the fields to scaffolding a building. Somehow they always seem fresh and clean and very well put together. The sarees are of all sorts of bright colors with gold sequence and interlacing designs throughout. Some wear shawls over their faces and a multiple amount of bangles along their arms. Henna is sometimes painted on their hands and forearms. Amongst all the dirt and grime of India....these woman stand out like beautiful paintings.<br />Poverty is another thing that I come across daily. According to Lonely Planet, an estimated 350 million Indians live below the poverty line. The major cause is illiteracy and a population growth rate that is substantially exceeding India's economic growth rate. I can't decide how to handle the poverty situation yet. Kids, mothers, the disabled, and lepers are on the sidewalks begging in most of the cities. Some of them even grab onto you and walk with you for blocks asking for money or milk. Even if I wanted to, it would not be wise for me to hand out money because a mob would surround me in an instant. One time a woman in our tour group gave a girl some candy as we waited in the train station. Next thing we knew we were surrounded by 10 kids and they didn't leave our sides until our train came an hour later. Most guidebooks and websites suggest not giving money to beggars. It promotes begging and keeps kids on the streets using it as a way to make a living. Sometimes it can be heartbreaking though. I asked DJ his thoughts on the poverty and how to handle the begging situations. He said he never gives money to beggars. There are opportunities for most of the beggars and they chose not to take them. Most of the kids could go to an orphanage and get an education, the woman could learn a skill in a woman's shelter and the disabled have charities they can get help from. But a lot of them end up back on the streets because they find it is easier to get quick cash through begging. I understand where DJ is coming from....it is a similar situation with the homeless in the US. But in the US, the government would take the kids away and put them foster homes. Here, it is the babies and small children that are starving that really break my heart.<br />On the flip side though, I have seen a few scams take place in front of my eyes. One time I saw a child ask a foreigner to buy him milk from this store. The woman brought him in thinking she was truly helping the child and giving him nourishment. She grabbed a small bottle of milk and then he instantly said no and insisted that she get the bigger bottle. She generously did so. She purchased the milk and left. A few moments later the child sold the bottle back to the store clerk and they both profited from it. I have also seen kids running around having fun, then the mother or "boss" coming up and scrutinizing them while pointing to foreigners. The kids then change their facial features to somber and helpless as they run to the foreigners asking for money. Clearly, they are just working for this woman and putting on an act. I am not trying to sound cold hearted about the beggars. It is clear that there is a poverty problem and it aches inside to dismiss mothers with crying babies and step over people with no limbs. I am trying to figure out a way that I can help with the problem besides giving money and food to beggars. Because unfortunately, some of the people are not as helpless as they seem. In Kolkata, I visited the "Mother house" where Mother Theresa is buried. She opened a missionary in 1953 and helped 1000s of poor and sick people in India. It was really neat to walk around the missionary and read about her ambitious story. I hope to use some of my energy someday to help humanity. Perhaps I can help with the illiteracy problem or promote more education.....I am not sure yet. But there are ways to help without giving money to beggars. I just need to figure that part out.<br /><br /></div>You can't walk or drive down the street without seeing symbols of the Hindu religion. Hinduism isn't really something you can sum up in a matter of a small paragraph. For one, they don't have 1 God....but 36 million gods. Yes, that is correct. I did not have a typo there...36 MILLION!!!! You cannot convert to Hinduism but are simply born into the religion. And with that, you are born into a caste. The highest caste being the Brahmins (the priests and teachers), followed by the Ksatriyas (warriors and rulers), Vaisyas (Farmers, merchants, artisans), Subras (laborers), and lastly....the Untouchables (outcastes or polluted laborers). I honestly don't know much about it yet and don;t have the time to do much research....but since it seems to be amongst everything in this country....the people, animals, buildings, etc....it is hard to not pick up tid bits here and there.<br /><br /><div>One day in the city of Jaisalmer, we got a unique opportunity to have lunch prepared for us in the home of a Brahmin. His wife and sisters cooked up a traditional Indian meal as we sat cross-legged (which I always called "indian style" growing up and now the puzzle pieces all come together....because Indians do sit cross legged all the time!) on the floor of his home and ate and conversed. The man was in the middle of some sort of religious fast and this was the one meal he was allowed to eat for the day. He spent the entire lunch talking about the Hindu religion and explaining to us about the Brahmin caste. I gathered that he was not always a devout Hindu and that it was only a few years ago that he changed his lifestyle to practice his role in the religion. Now he plays the role of the priest and teacher and does fasting and pilgrimages. It was really interesting to eat the lunch and listen to his thoughts and religious views. Since people cannot be converted into Hindus, I asked him how his religion viewed all of the other people in the world...were we just considered outcasts with no hope? He smiled to me and replied "At the end of the day, it is better to put a smile on your neighbors face then to light a candle in the temple.".....I really liked that response. </div><br />Transportation from city to city has been interesting as well.<br /><div>For instance, our 5 bus ride to Jodhpur was quite the experience. This was my first bus ride in India and 5 hours seemed simple enough to me....I had tackled far longer routes in my journey. Well, don't ever underestimate what India may bring....it doesn't matter how <em>long</em> the destination is, but instead, how many people they can fit on the bus! So....how many people do you think they can fit on a bus in India? From my experience....nearly 150...and this is no joke. When we got on the bus there were about 36 or so seats. Fortunately, we grabbed some and took our positions. Above the seats are these small cubbie holes about the length of a person. At first I thought this was a sleeper seat for longer journeys, but turns out it is just a way to maximize space. In an area where I pictured one person to be sleeping, they instead would cram an Indian family of 6-8 people in the cubbie. The aisle going down the seats was filling up with people. After more and more people climbed on, I thought surely they would stop soon, but no....the people kept coming on in masses. You would imagine a single file line of people down the aisle....maybe 15 or so. But just in our seat area alone, there had to have been 5 people standing on top of one another without and inch to spare. People were sitting on half our seats as well so the whole "seat" concept really doesn't make a difference. But it wasn't over yet. In the front cabin where the driver is at, they managed to squeeze 15 more people which was more then unbelievable. How the driver managed to even function is beyond me. And then there was the roof. Luggage and people sprawled out over every square inch of the roof....I swear it was sagging in from the top. At each bus stop the people in the aisle had to file out so that people in the back of the bus could get off....it was a long a drawn out nightmare of people on top of one another for 5 hours. We were soooo happy when that ride was over and I was not looking forward to the future bus journeys.<br />A few times we took over night trains. After the crowded bus journeys, I was really excited to take the train. Although, the trains are not so reliable when it comes to the time. We were booked on a 15 hour train ride from Varanasi to Kolkata. We arrived to the station at 4:30pm and the train was expected the leave at 6pm. To make a long story short....the train didn't arrive to the station until 5am......we sat in the station for nearly 12 hours. Since the train was late, it meant that all other trains took priority over it...delaying the ride even more. So the 15 hour ride turned into 24 hours. In total...it was a 36 hour ordeal! Apparently, the Indians plan for horrendous train delays. As we waited in the station I noticed families beginning to lay out blankets and getting comfortable. By 10pm that night the entire waiting area and all of the platfroms were covered with people sleeping. Families were cuddled up with one another and luggage was sprawled out all over. Men were walking around serving chai teas and selling fried breads. Holy cows were walking throughout the sleeping people and urinating as they pleased. I had to weave through all of them to go to the bathroom or get a drink. Steve, a guy on my tour, mentioned how hearty and durable to Indian people were. They can sleep on stark cold pavement and wait hours for trains....and it just seems normal to them.<br />One of our stops that I do feel like noting is the city of Varanasi. It is one of the holiest cities in India. It lies along the holy Gangas river and Indians make pilgrimages here to wash away a lifetime of sins or cremate their loved ones. If people are close to death, then they try their best to get to Varanasi as it is the most spiritual place to die. The river is lined with ghats or steps that people use for their daily use of showering, laundry, and cremating. We took a boat ride at sunrise and sunset. It was neat to see the city come awake and the people bathing themselves in the morning and then at night to see the cremation ceremonies. The river itself is extremely dirty and I can't imagine ever swimming in it. But Indians travel far distances to get a chance to bathe in it. According to Lonely Planet, about 60,000 people bathe in the river each day. However, along the same area there are 30 large sewers continuously discharging into the river. Samples from the river show the water has 1.5 million fecal coliform bacteria per 100ml of water. In water that is safe for bathing this figure should be less then 500!!!!<br />Ashes from the dead are put in the river and dead pregnant mothers, babas, and lepers are placed in the river without cremation. We saw men carrying a dead Holy cow and dropping it in the river....only meters away from people bathing. It was crazy....<br /><br />So.....I am sure from my description you are wondering why the heck I am even traveling in a place like this. But I must admit....there is something very intriguing about a life lived so differently then back home. Most of the people I have come across are extremely friendly and kind hearted. And it is always interesting to take a peak into a culture/religion/world so different then your own. It makes me kind of wonder about things....<br />I think the West lives in such a structured and sanitized world that it is hard to imagine a life like this. I for one, have been psycho about using my hand sanitizer. I now have some awful rash and cracked dry skin on my hands from overuse of the stuff. I think it is some form of eczema. I probably would have been better off to just eat with dirty hands.<br />I guess the point I am trying to make is that we are so germophobic in the West and used to lines and rules and safety and hygiene....that places like India blow our minds away. But India has been around a lot longer then most civilizations today. If it weren't for the ongoing stress with Pakistan, it would be one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Yes, they have a lot of problems....pollution, population and poverty to name a few big ones. But the people here are living....surviving. And they aren't going anywhere soon. I would love to come back here in 20 years to see, if in fact, the changes that the government are working on do go into effect. DJ has high hopes for his country and I hope it does improve.<br /><br />I know this blog is all over the place. Every time I sat down to write it, I was overwhelmed with thoughts and sites and everything I had experienced in India. I didn't even know where to start. I just tried to get the thoughts from my head onto the blog. As I re-read it now I can see the chaos going through my head as I was trying to get it out on paper. This is kind of how I feel in this country though, so instead of trying to revise it and make it orderly....I'll just leave it be.<br /><br />I only have about a month left before I head home. India is a good country to end on....It will be nice to get home after this. I am pretty exhausted and as much as I hate to admit it....I am a little over traveling right now. I need to recharge my batteries, see some familiar faces, and be in the comforts of home. Instead of trying to see as much as I can, I have decided to chill out for the last month of my journey.<br />In a few days I will enter a spiritual ashram. People travel from all over the world to find spirituality and be enlightened in India. That was not my specific reason for traveling here, but I feel that now may be a good time to reflect on the past year of my life. What better way to do that then to do yoga and meditation for a few weeks. Not sure what is in store for me, but I am looking forward to it.<br /><br />Hope all is well with everyone and I will let you know how the spiritual ashram goes.<br />Namaste!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-8395259488783450182009-10-18T01:03:00.000-07:002009-10-20T04:22:43.888-07:00Sunkosi River and into IndiaThe rafting trip was a really cool experience. It was a mixture of rafting, nature, culture, adventure, relaxation, teamwork, and campfire bonding.<br />The group consisted of 6 tourists and 6 crew members (2 of which were training). We had 2 rafts. One for all of our gear and the other for us. Then 2 safety kayakers.<br />I am always a little weary signing up for multi day group ventures. 10 days on a raft with people that suck would not be a fun scenario. Fortunately, the group came together well.<br />The first girl I met was a Canadian named Danica. We had a lot in common because she had also been traveling solo for a year and was on her last month. We instantly got along and exchanged travel experiences and compared emotional feelings such as getting through homesickness and the excitement of learning about new cultures. We had some good laughs right off the bat. Especially about how unattractive traveling can make you. If only men knew our potential beauty with a hair dryer, make-up, manicures, and form fitting cute clothes. But hairy legs, dirty clothes, and bug bitten out of shaped bodies were our lives right now. It was just humorous and refreshing to meet someone on the same wavelength as me.<br />Then there were 2 New Yorkers named Dan and Mike. Dan had been traveling and working abroad for 2 years. He has no intentions of going back to the States anytime soon. Mike just quit his job and bought a one-way ticket to meet up with Dan and live the traveler lifestyle as well. They were both really nice guys and it is always a pleasure to meet cool travelers from the US. Matt was this Aussie bloke that was on the last leg of his 16 month around the world trip. He had been all throughout the Middle East so it was interesting to here his stories and perspectives on those countries. He carries a guitar with him and wrote some cool songs during his travels. We spent almost every night listening to jam sessions around the camp fire. When Matt is not being a singer songwriter, he is a "wordsmith". He is very clever at combining 2 words in almost any case scenario. For instance, Brandy and Tang is a wonderful campfire drink that he coined "Brang". There was also the horrendous "wand" which is wind and sand combined and becomes very annoying when attempting to set up camp. Last, but surely not least was cute little Eimear. She was an Irish girl who had been working in the United Emirates for a year teaching English and was finishing up a 4 month trip through India and Nepal. She was one of those people who had he odd ability of retaining what she calls "useless information" such as song lyrics, movie quotes and any other corky thing you can imagine. I spent a lot of time laughing at her random blurbs about some movie made in the 1980s that none of us had ever even heard of. The group dynamic was pretty cool because we were all around the same age and all on long term travel trips.<br />We loaded up our rafts and got a safety briefing. We were all a little nervous since 2 people had died on the river a week ago. The rapids were rated up to 4-5+ so we were not sure what to expect. However, the first 3 days were pretty calm which gave us time to build our confidence up. Finally, we were off on the Sunkosi River and going out into the wild.<br />10 days sounds pretty intense for rafting, but most of the river was pretty calm with sporadic rapids here and there. Much of the time was spent floating down and enjoying the peacefulness. The river runs straight down the middle of Nepal and by the end of the trip we rafted almost 300 kilometers. All along the river we passed small villages and were able to catch a glimpse of the real Nepalis life. We were miles away from roads, tourist agencies, or guesthouses. Throughout the trip we passed villagers bathing themselves with river water, women washing clothes, kids swimming, and men fishing. The fisherman were hilarious because they would always be wearing small underwear. Some of them strapped a wooden box to their back with a battery inside and electrocuted the fish. Their friends would stand around with nets and collect the ones that floated up. One time we passed a crowd of people surrounding a pile of logs that were burning on the river bed. Our raft guide, Denish, explained that the villagers were cremating a dead body, as they do in the Hindu culture.<br />The river and the scenery were beautiful and I was looking around in awe trying to soak up the nature around me. Since we were on the water most of the time, I wasn't able to take a lot of pictures.<br />Each afternoon we would pull up to a white sandy beach to set up camp. It is pretty unique how many untouched beaches Nepal has with being a landlocked country. We joked at how we couldn't wait to go back home and be like...."yeah, some of the best beaches are in Nepal..." and then wait for people to be like....ummm there isn't an ocean anywhere?<br />A few days into the trip, we approached the 5+ rapid where the people had died. We pulled over to check out the rapid and see if it was something we could do or not. You could tell the crew was a bit nervous. One of them named Cita was having a hard time because it was her friend that died there. After 30 minutes of discussion, the guides decided it was too dangerous to go down. There were 3 major holes in the rapid and if the raft where to get stuck in one it could be extremely dangerous. We understood the circumstances and agreed to walk around. The rafts, however, needed to be guided by ropes through the rapids as they were far to heavy to carry around. When the crew attempted to get the first raft down, someone slipped and the current grabbed the raft. There were 2 people still in it as it headed straight for the rapid. Instantly, the crew went into action as the ran along the raft with safety ropes and watched as the 2 on board navigated around the holes. Luckily, they made it down safely and everyone cheered from the sidelines and sighed with relief. Everyone was super cautious with the next raft and it ended up getting lodged into a rock and stuck for a good while. We ended up having to unload a lot of things and carry them down to get the raft out of its position. All in all....it was an eventful rapid even though we didn't officially go down it.<br />After a few days we were getting a bit comfortable rafting and maybe even a little too confident. There was a 4+ rapid that we were up against and we were ready for something exciting. Matt was in front next to Danica and I was behind him. We hit this massive wave straight on and the raft went up almost vertical. Matt was almost swept away with the water, but we all managed to stay in the boat. As we rounded the wave we were all excited and cheering and even taunting the rapids to give us some more. Out of nowhere the raft nailed a rock and all of a sudden Matt went flying out of the boat. It all took us by surprise and I don't think I will ever forget the look on his face as he went soaring into the river. I started laughing hysterically and even almost peed my pants, but I knew that we needed to do a safety rescue to get him back in the boat. Danica and I had our paddles all over the place and as we lifted him back in we rammed his face right into the handle of the paddle. Still, we were laughing and Matt ended up dragging himself into the boat pretty much. All this happened in about 10 seconds and just goes to show that you never know what can happen. Fortunately,there were no major injuries during the trip.<br />I shared a tent with Danica and we spent a lot of time talking and hanging out. I noticed that she was running out of energy quickly and not feeling 100% during the trip. In talking, she confided with me that she was actually diagnosed with breast cancer before she left to travel. She is only 23 and it is an odd case since she is so young. Back home, she had a lot of crazy things going on in her life at that time with her family and past relationships.....then with the diagnosis on top of that, she felt a need to get away for a bit and spend a year abroad. My first reaction was why didn't she immediately start getting treated for it. She explained to me that it was in the first stages and even though her doctor didn't recommend traveling, she didn't think much would spread over a years time. Danica is taking medicine weekly to stabilize the cancer. Normally she rests a lot and takes naps to combat the side effects, but there wasn't too much time for that during the rafting trip. I couldn't believe it when she told me and it put all my travels and experiences in perspective. How differently you would look at things if you had cancer while traveling.....<br />Danica chose not to tell anyone in her family and only her doctor and a close friend back at home know about it. She has told a few people in traveling. She isn't scared to talk about it, but just doesn't want people to treat her differently for it. Traveling was a choice she made and she wanted to get away for a bit before dealing with the treatments and the other issues going on in her life. Once I knew the whole background, it made more sense to me why she needed to get away for awhile. I asked her if I could talk about it in my blog and she said it was ok. In fact, she enjoyed talking to someone about it and getting it off her chest. I find peoples stories and reasons for traveling so interesting and I wanted to emphasize the unique individuals I have come across on my journey. I only knew Danica for 10 days, but she has a wonderful soul and a compassionate energy. I hope all of her treatments go well and her future is filled with many more trips and experiences ahead.<br />The Sunkosi River trip happened at a perfect time for me. I had been having a wave of homesickness and it was really refreshing to be around people who were on similar trips as I was. Being surrounded by nature really does something for the soul and I was feeling nice and refreshed when it was over.<br />Our group parted ways and it was sad to say goodbye. Sharada, the woman at the tourist agency that I worked with, invited me to stay at her home for my last night in Kathmandu. It was really nice to be able to be invited into a locals home. She made an amazing dinner and we sat around her kitchen table talking about my trip and the Nepali culture. This will not be my last time to visit Nepal...there are so many other places I want to explore. And a little thing called the Mt Everest base camp that I need to hike someday :)<br /><br />I am now 4 days into India...<br />India was the whole reason I started this trip. I had wanted to visit a place so different then anything I had ever known and India seemed to pop in my mind anytime I visualized that place. Since I couldn't take too much time off of work, it was my desire to visit this country the led me to save money and leave my life in ATX for awhile. Then, somehow...my trip turned into this wild and crazy round the world expedition, but here I am now.....in the place that started it all for me. My mind is mixed with so many emotions and I can't believe that I am finally here.<br />Eimear, the Irish chick who retained useless information, happened to be on the same flight as me into Delhi. Thank goodness for this because she had already spent 4 months traveling in India and knew how it all worked. For the first day and a half I walked behind Eimear as she whisked me through the streets and haggled for cabs and hotel rooms. She told me about the ins and outs and it really helped me to get my barrings straight. When we arrived our first night, it was right in the middle of the big Hindu festival called Diwali. I am not sure the whole background of this holiday, but it is translated into the "Festival of Lights". People drape lights all over their homes like we do for Christmas, and then they shoot fireworks all over the place throughout the night. It all sounds lovely, right? Well, fireworks combined with India equals WAR ZONE!!!!!!! The first few hours of being in Delhi consisted of me running and dodging fire crackers (more like fire missiles) flying down the streets. As we were checking into our guesthouse, the men at the reception stopped in the middle of our check-in and went into Hindu prayers for about 15 minutes while we sat there. I was like...what the heck is going on?.. we are in the middle of checking in and these guys stop to chant and light incense and hold hands. Eimear didn't seem the least bit surprised and gave me the "Welcome to India" look. After sorting out the cost of accomodation and waiting for them to finish their prayers we finally got situated into our rooms. We met some really cute Dutch and English boys who invited us out to dinner and to check out the Diwali festival. Once again, we were back in the streets and I felt like we were in the Desert Storm War with fireworks and dust surrounding me. Honestly, I was scared that one of us was going to get hurt. There was no police or safety people around and clearly no regulations on how to shoot off the fireworks. All I could think to myself was.."welcome to India Andrea...this is what you asked for....a place far different then you even know!"<br /><br />I had signed up for a 21 day tour through the tourist areas of India. I was hesitant about doing it because I knew I was going to be spending far more money then I would if I were on my own. But a few months ago when I signed up for it, I was intimidated about traveling alone in India. I said goodbye to Eimear and went to meet up with my group. There were only 3 other people in the group. Emma, a girl from England and then Steve and Debra, a couple from Australia. They are all very nice and I think we will get along great.<br />After only 2 days on the tour, I realize that it was a good idea. India is very intense and there is so much going on around you at any given moment. I am glad that I can just follow a group around and enjoy getting used to my surroundings for a few weeks. It can get really exhausting and frustrating having to figure out directions, prices, transport, and everything else when you are alone for the first time in a new country. So....I am looking forward not having to worry about that crap for a bit and just enjoying the country.<br />Our first day, Digvijay, our guide, took us to a few places around Delhi. Our first stop was the largest Muslim Mosque in India. It was beautiful, but I was a bit put off at the entrance. There were all these men barking at us to pay rupees for every little thing. We had to pay to bring our camera in, pay to have them watch our shoes while we go inside, pay to wear the mandatory robe around our clothing and so on. I decided not to bring my camera in because it wasn't worth the $6 it would have cost and I didn't want to give them my money anyways. After the Mosque, we went to a Sikh temple. This was a completely different experience to the Muslim Mosque. We were asked to take our shoes off and put a scarf over our head, but no one asked for any money for it. Once we were inside, we were invited into the worshipping area and we were able to sit down a listen to the live music and watch the Sikhs praying on their knees. It was such a lovely and peaceful setting and I could have sat there for hours watching the people coming through to pray. I honestly don't know too much about Sikhism, but my guide describe it as a mixture of Muslim and Hinduism. Obviously, there is much more to it, but I won't try to explain it all in this blog. Besides the religious aspect, the Sikh community is well known for opening their doors to their own worshippers and outsiders as well. Behind the temple was loads of dormitories and apartments that they open to people for free or small donations. Also, there is a large dining hall where they serve meals for free or small donations. We were able to go into the kitchen and help the ladies bake bread and see the huge pots used for cooking for 100s of people. Mainly, it is other Sikhs that come to use these facilities. And you will never see a Sikh begging on the street for food or money as they are always taken care of at the temples. Apparently, they are a very wealthy religion and put the money back into its worshippers in this way.<br />The traditional Sikh men are very intimidating at first because they wear stark white linen clothing with blue turbans. Most of them have long facial beards. Across their shoulders they wear a knife much like you would if you had a sword. This is the traditional dress and both men and woman would wear the knife in the past for protection. Nowadays, the knife is simply worn for traditional reasons. When I would walk by these men I was scared to make eye contact, but when I did their faces lightened up and they gave me a head nod and gentle smile. Unfortunately, I connect men in turbans with war and terrorism, which is a terrible thing for me to think. Obviously, there were so many good people around the world practicing different religions and it was really neat for me to have a peak.<br />I realize that them welcoming outsiders in to view their religion is a way to gain followers and spread their word. Don't worry...I am not planning on converting into Sikhism. However, I was very impressed with the temple and facilities they provided. It was also nice to not have to pay to learn about and view these things as the previous Mosque had done. Pictures were allowed to be taken, but I felt that it would be disrespectful. It would be like someone walking into a Catholic church mass and snapping photos....so I just walked around admiring this religion that is so foreign to anything I have ever seen before.<br />We took a 17 hour train ride to a city in Rajasthan called Jaisalmer. This is the largest city closest to the Pakistan border and is smack dab in the middle of the desert. The town is actually a huge fortress that was built in the 12th century. Today, the fort is still in tact and one of the few forts in the world that is still inhabited. 1/3 of the city still lives and works within the fort. Our guesthouse is inside the fort and we are literally sleeping within the walls of this ancient city. It's sand colored and the light of the sun reflecting of the sandstone is a site to see. Tomorrow we will spend a few hours learning about the history of the fortress. I am so excited to finally be in India....I think the next few weeks will bring many interesting experiences. Well, that's it for now...hee hee....sorry for the long blog :)Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-568185535445599072009-10-04T04:55:00.000-07:002009-10-06T00:28:44.377-07:00Annapurna Base TrekOk - I have a quick update since my last blog. Apparently, the Muslim dude from Tajikistan is a legitimate person. He asked to be my friend on facebook and his profile page checked out. Either that...or he is one hell of a con artist :) So...with that said, perhaps I may have over reacted a tiny bit when I was with him. But given the circumstances and the dodgy characters around that area of town, I think it was pretty understandable for me to have my guard up. There is no doubt that the other men that approached me where touts of some sort. <br />I just really hope the Tajikistan guy never finds my blog.....because, well...that would be a bit awkward. <br />Let me first begin with saying that Nepal is awesome. I will be as bold to even say that I think it is my top favorite country....tied with Ecuador of course. This will not be the last time I visit, there is so much more that I need to explore.<br />My guide's name was Nyrma. It was really nice to have him along for the hike because there were certain parts where I did not see other people for awhile. However, turns out I paid a lot of money for an "English" speaking guide who admitted to me (well along on our trek) that in fact, he does not speak very much English and actually studied French. So....that was a bit frustrating for me since the whole reason I hired him was to teach me about the culture and chit-chat along the way. Nonetheless, it was good to have someone around. Plus, he carried my bag the entire way.<br />We started off our hike in a small town called Naya pol. As I mentioned in my last blog, there was a Hindu festival taking place. Goats were sacrificed and most of Nepal, besides the tourism jobs, were on a 3 week holiday. Within the first 15 minutes of walking we came upon a small crowd. I peaked through and saw that there was a headless goat laying on the dirt pathway. One man had a blow torch and was burning the hair off of it. It was a startling sight for me. I met a girl once in Laos who watched villagers butcher and take apart a cow in the middle of town. I asked her if it freaked her out and she responded nonchalantly with "You should be able to kill the animal that you eat." I agreed with her statement and admitted that my knowledge of meat was reduced to sanitary packages at supermarkets. Sure, during my travels I have visited open markets where I have seen meat hanging on hooks in 100 degree weather. I have also seen large pigs roasting over a fire while people peeled off the skin to eat. But the blow torching of a headless goat in a pile of dirt was a new site for me. I quickly made a mental note to stick to a vegetarian diet along the trek. It actually wasn't going to be difficult to eat vegetarian. The primary meal for the Nepalis was a dish called Dal Bhat. It consists of a heaping portion of rice with a side of fried potatoes, spinach, and some sort of chutney. Then there is a bowl of watery lentil soup that you pour over the rice. If you order this dish, you can have all of the dal bhat that you can eat. It is what the porters live off of and is actually quite tasty. Since meat is rarely eaten, the people get most of their protein from lentils. It is a good high energy meal. For curiosity though, I did try a piece of goat later in the trek. It was fatty and tough. I also had soup one night and commented on how good the sun dried tomatoes where....only to find out that I was eating dried yak meat. But for the most part, I stuck to a vegetarian diet. <br />The trekking routes weren't open to tourism until the late 1950s. The routes were basically "super highways" that the porters and villagers used for trading. Still today, these routes are filled with porters and pony caravans carrying supplies from village to village. Most of it now is catered to tourism, but it is neat to know that there is so much history in the steps that we were taking.<br />Later on in the day, we came across a Nepalis family coming down a steep hill. They were taking a break on the side of the path. I noticed a large basket tied to the back of one of the younger man. The older mother was tending to the basket. As I came around the family I looked and saw that in the basket was a grown man who appeared to be physically and mentally disabled. They cut out the front part of the basket for his legs to hang out. This family must have been heading into the city, perhaps to celebrate the Hindu festival....and they were carrying their grown son in a basket the entire way there. Physical or mental disabilities are a life changing struggle for families anywhere in the world. In America, though, we have resources and government help (handicap accessible areas, community programs and schools etc.) In the Himalayan villages, there are no such programs or help. How difficult it must be to live each day with those sort of problems. My admiration went out to the family carrying their son down the steep steps of the mountain.<br />The first few days of hiking, we crossed through the low level mountains in areas of lush green and rushing rivers. It was beautiful, however, the weather was a bit cloudy and I still had not seen any mountain peaks. It was 2 weeks before the height of the hiking season....and the rainy season had dragged a bit longer then usual. I was really hoping that this wouldn't ruin the mountain views I had ahead of me. <br />The next morning we woke up at 4:00am. There was a viewing at the top of this place called Poon Hill. It was supposed to be outstanding for sunrises. I strapped on my headlamp and we began the 1 hour walk up the steep hill. The whole way up, the sky was filled with clouds. I was really disappointed inside....was I really not going to see any mountains on my Himalayan trek? I spoke to the mountain, cloud, and sun gods as I hiked up. I just told them to give me a view....the tiniest view and I would be happy. When we arrived to the top it was still dark and you couldn't see much. After a few minutes, Nyrma pointed out into the valley and when I turned my head I saw my first mountain peak. It was a dark shadow against the slightly lighter sky. The clouds appeared to be rolling off the mountain like a wave in slow motion. I had the biggest smile on my face. It was day 3 and I was seeing my first glimpse of the almighty mountain range. I sat on a tree stump and watched for the next hour as the sun made its way up and the clouds slowly descended from the sky.....it turned out to be an extraordinary view. As the sun rose you could see the light hitting certain edges of the mountains and they appeared to be glowing. Hello Himalayas! (there are pics on Picasa of the views)<br />When we returned I ordered a yummy pancake with peanut butter on top. Half way through eating it I came across a fly that had gotten stuck in the batter. In fact, most of the meals I had, contained strands of hair or pesky little insects in them. We used to joke in Ecuador that it wasn't a genuine Ecuadorian meal unless you found a strand of hair in it. It is much the same here in Nepal. Everything is cooked to order in these small kitchens with gas cookers. The Nepalis woman have long dark manes of hair and some of the houses have no windows to block anything from coming in. The meals were good and hearty, but you always had to have an inspection before eating.<br />As we continued walking this day, I noticed that my breathing was getting harder and harder. We were now around 3000 meters (almost 10,000 feet). The previous days I was pretty impressed by my fitness level and how good I felt walking. But on this day, I was not as cocky....the altitude was making it a bit more difficult. <br />At this point I was walking with a Finnish and Australian guy. They both had guides as well. We stopped in a little down for a rest. There was this little baby monkey sitting on the chair. Unfortunately, the locals probably bought the monkey to use as a way to get the tourists attention. I went to pet the monkey and give it some love as I rested. When I sat down, it climbed into my lap and fell asleep....it was so sweet. There were a few kids in the town and I practiced my Nepalis phrases that I had studied. I asked them how they were and what their names were. They just giggled and laughed at me. <br />To help Nyrma practice his English, I tried to ask him questions as we walked. One day I asked him if he had a girlfriend. I thought it was a reasonable and normal thing to ask. He turned really red in the face and laughed and then told me that he had a wife...not a girlfriend. "Oh that is fantastic....do you have kids?" I replied. He laughed more and conversed with the other Nepalis guide that was near us. Then he looked at me and in broken English said "My wife told me not to never trust other women."....then he started walking faster and I was a bit confused at the sudden awkwardness. The Australian's guide spoke really good English and told the Aussie that my guide thought I was hitting on him. Which is not at all what my intention was and I didn't think that I gave the slightest hint to that idea. As it turns out, many of the Nepalis guides sleep with the foreign woman on the treks. This was news to me and I thought it quite hilarious that my guide thought that I was pursuing him.<br />Nyrma may have been good to his wife, but the Australian's guide on the other hand was what we would call a "player". He had local girlfriends in most of the small villages and a fiance back in Kathmandu. I guess those type of men live all over the world :) <br />For a few days the Australian guy hiked with me. Unbeknownst to me, there were hand signals and secret conversations between him and our guides about him trying to hook up with me on the hike. After several days of walking together, the Australian guy told me that our guides were surprised that we hadn't slept together yet. This statement took me by surprise and I just sat there staring at him and wondering why in the world he was saying this to me in the first place. He went further on about how he could tell that I wasn't interested in him, though. I still stayed quiet as I wasn't sure what type of response he wanted...he was right, I was not interested in him like that. A few moments later he went on to say "In fact....I am not interested in you either. You seem like a nice girl, but I probably wouldn't sleep with you. I'm sure you don't hear that very often from men, do you?" At this point I was really in shock by the ridiculousness of this Ham of a man. He went on...."But you see that Chinese girl over there? I could seduce her in 10 minutes I bet." <br />Uhhhhh was this guy serious? He was also right again. Most men don't tell me after knowing me for 2 days whether or not they would sleep with me. I don't think that is a very normal conversation to have. I just gave him a weird smile and walked to another table and sat down. What a class act this guy was...it was when I realized that you can get stuck on these treks with the most unusual people. Here I was trying to be "one with nature" in the Himalayan mountains and somehow it turned into Sex Trek 2009! <br />I had decided to keep walking and doing my thing. I was not going to converse with this guy unless he started the conversation. He was really beginning to annoy me. But for some reason he trotted along next to me and continued to talk as if the prior conversation was nothing awkward or weird for him. I gave him one word answers and tried to concentrate on my steps.<br />When we arrived to the town where we were staying the night, the lodge was full. It turned out that I was going to have to share a room with the Australian and another Finnish guy. I was pretty thankful there would be 3 of us in the room. This lodge was packed with people from all around the world. There was a Korean family, a Romanian couple, a Spanish man, 2 German girls, the Finnish, the Aussie, and me. We all sat around a big table for dinner and had fun playing cards and chatting with one another. The Australian wasn't annoying me as much now that we were in a big group and I had other people to talk with.<br />The next morning we were going to do the long walk to the Annapurna Base Camp. We needed to go up 1000 meters. This is the day that a lot of people got altitude sickness so we were going to be taking it nice and slow. Once again, the Australian began his walk with me. I tried to not let him annoy me this next day. He was definitely a true class act and someone I would never be interested in, but all in all he was harmless. In chatting with him, it helped me forget the steep mountains we were ascending. Throughout this day it wasn't the altitude that got to me, but I developed a killer cold instead. My throat got sore and I sneezed and coughed constantly. I think the constant change in temperature and rain and my lack of proper clothing led to my sickness. We arrived to the top of the base camp at 4320 meters (14,000 feet). Because of the weather, you could not see any of the glorious mountains. To make matters worse, the lodge was booked up again. Even the dining halls were booked. It turned out that we would have to sleep in a tent that night. To avoid sleeping in the same tent with the Australian, I got set up in a tent with 2 Korean girls and a Chinese girl. I tried to speak to them, but they were very shy and didn't say much in return. Throughout the night I could hear the wind howling and the mountains roaring. Several times I heard avalanches in the distance...it was if the mountains were alive. Mother nature will you humble you so quickly in these moments. <br />In the middle of the night I had a weird stomach pain and realized I needed to rush to the bathroom. As I hobbled out of the tent I looked up to see the cloudless sky and the Annapurna mountain sanctuary surrounding me. No one else was around and I could not believe the site. It was astonishing. After I went to the bathroom, I sat at a table for a few minutes and enjoyed the view. Little did I know, it would be the only time I would see the mountain range like that....the rest of my time there would be cloudy. <br />The next morning was a cloudy sunrise. At certain points you could see glimpses of the mountains but it was nothing like the site from the previous night. Since I was ahead of schedule, I decided to stay another night at the base camp. It would give me a chance to relax and improve my health. The Australian and other people that were hiking the same days as us moved on down the mountain. I walked up to the lookout point to have some time alone and watch the passing clouds. There was a monument lined with Buddhist prayer flags dedicated to all of the people who died in Annapurna. One of the most famous climbers in the world, the Russian Anatoli Boukreev, died in 1997 by an avalanche there. Many people have perished in these mountains. In fact, while I was trekking there was a Korean climbing expedition with 6 men. 2 of the men went missing a few days before I had arrived to the base camp. They were nowhere to be found and it was thought that they were killed by an avalanche as well. After days of missing, they were pronounced dead. <br />As I watched the mountains come in and out of view, an Austrian man walked by me with a cello case. He climbed this tall rock and set up his instrument. Finally, he began playing the cello. I just sat there staring at the massive mountain range covered in patchy clouds and listened to him play....it was one of those surreal moments in life where you aren't really sure what is real or not. I was alone in the middle of the Himalayas listening to a live session of the cello!<br />The weather didn't improve too much that day but it was nice to rest and I met some really interesting people. It was a shame to not see the whole mountain sanctuary during the day without clouds, but there was nothing much you could do about it.<br />Nyrma and I set off down the mountain. What took us almost 6 days to climb, would only take 3-4 days to get down.<br />There was a bit of drama with my guide because the agency had told me that it would take 12 days to do the entire trek. Well...turns out a blind turtle could have done it faster then 12 days. We would walk for a few hours and then Nyrma would try to get me to stop and stay the night somewhere when it was only 12pm. I told him how I wanted to keep walking until well into the afternoon. Also, he was not honest with me about distances to the next towns to discourage me from wanting to continue walking. If I hire a guide next time in Nepal, I will underestimate my walking time. If I take longer, then I will pay for those extra days. I didn't know anything about the trek an assumed that 12 days would be fine. But at some points I felt as if I were being held hostage on the mountain because Nyrma would not let me do what I wanted. I knew the distances were possible and that he was just trying to keep me on the trek for more days. Finally, I told him that I would be fine to take my own backpack and continue walking without him. With his lack of English and telling me white lies about distances etc, it was difficult at some points of the trek. But, I realized that he was only trying to make a living. And he was taking me on the number of days that his boss had paid him for. Finally, I told him I would pay him for the 12 days but to please get me down in 9. It was a lesson learned on my part and I don't falter him for trying to do his job. Overall he was a nice guide.<br />The trek was amazing and if I didn't have a tour booked for India in a few weeks then I would extend my visa and do another trek. There is so much more to see in Nepal. Someday I would love to come back and visit all of the small villages where the tourists don't come to. This way I could grasp the culture and the people better.<br />Now I am in the enchanting town of Pokhara. It is much more chilled out then Kathmandu. Tons of hippies flock here for meditation, yoga, and drugs. The weather hasn't been too good though, so I have spent most of my time reading and journaling. In a few days I will be going on a 9 day river rafting excursion. There will be 8 of us in the raft. Last week 2 people died on the river we will be going on. The company did not have safety kayakers and the raft went down the rapids anyways. The boat flipped and the guide and another person were killed. I was a little worried when I heard about the news, but the company I am using has safety kayakers and the best equipment. It is also a reputable company in Lonely Planet. As my stomach nerves were getting to me about the rafting, I went online and read the news. There was a devastating Typhoon that blew through the Philippines and a horrible earthquake in Sumatra Indonesia. 100s of people died instantly. People die everyday and you never know what could happen tomorrow. I started coming to grips with the rafting....everything will be ok and it will be an amazing experience to raft through Nepal miles away from any civilization.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-18700844919201221202009-09-22T06:16:00.000-07:002009-09-23T07:05:02.375-07:00Kathmandu, NepalI landed in Kathmandu at 12:35pm and it wasn't until 2 hours later that I felt like I took my first breath. <br />On the airplane ride there, I sat in between a Nepalis man named Sabin, and a Danish girl named Kristina. Sabin left Nepal when he was 12 and studied in England. He now lives and works in Sydney and was going home to visit his mother who was sick. I took the opportunity to ask Sabin some questions about Nepal and learn a few basic words. He was very kind and open with me. I had read the night before that there were over 100 different ethnic groups throughout Nepal. I asked Sabin which group his family was from. They are the Newar ethnic group, which is the original people from the Kathmandu valley. Kristina was a 28 year who was part of a tour group going to Nepal. She had done a lot of traveling in her lifetime and we got along really well. It was too bad that she was part of a tour group, because I think we would have traveled well together. Plus, she studied Spanish in Ecuador and we both shared a common love for the country.<br />When we landed, the airport looked like an ugly prison. We all walked across the tarmac runway to the building and lined up for the security to take our temperatures and fill out Swine Flu forms. Then we hit up the visa line. The women working in the airport were all wearing brightly colored sarongs and a lot of the men had red powder across their foreheads. I am not sure what I was expecting in Nepal. All I had imagined and prepared myself for was hiking in the Himalayas with hill villages and Sherpas. It hadn't occurred to me that we were in a country right next to India....and that the Hindu culture would be thriving. After the long visa line, I went to get my luggage. The last line was the customs area with the luggage. As I approached, there were 100s of people in line with strollers holding luggage 10 feet high. It was a mess. People were yelling and talking and I had no idea which line to get in or what was going on really. As I walked through the area, people kept pushing me forward and nodding at me to continue up to the front. In a line that I expected to take 2 hours to get through, I somehow managed to squeeze through in 5 minutes. I think the immigration was more concerned with Nepalis people returning then a lone white female backpacker. I walked out to the exit to see the pick-up area of the airport filled with taxi drivers, hagglers, touts, and people basically screaming in your face. It was a bit overwhelming. Amongst it all was a sign with my name on it. I made eye contact with the guy and we exchanged smiles to confirm the communication. As I pushed my way through the crowd, I found the guy and he took me to his car. Right as we opened the back door, a man came up behind me and grabbed my bag. He threw it into the car that I was half way inside already. My hand was still attached to the bag and I went flying into the car with my bag. As I situated myself, he leaned into the door and said "tip-tip". He was actually asking me for a tip for doing a job that lasted about .002 seconds and that I was well capable and in the process of doing myself. I was holding onto the bag when he threw it in for crying out loud. "I have no rupies yet, I just landed....I"m sorry", I replied. "Tip-tip mam, you need to give me a tip...you can give me Australian Dollars it is ok." Meanwhile, 4 other men were surrounding the car and watching the dialogue between us. The driver was getting into the front seat and not defending the situation at all. I ended up reaching into my bag and giving him a $1USD. I gave it to him knowing very well that it was way too much money, but since men were surrounding the car looking at me I decided it was worth a $1 to get my door shut. I sat back as we drove through the city. The streets were intense. We were driving down narrow dirt roads creeping our way around food stalls, bicycle riders, motorbikes, and other cars. There didn't seem to be much order with the driving....basically it was whoever could inch their way further and further through open spaces while honking continuesly. For the 45 minute cab ride I didn't take my eyes off the window. So much was happening around us that I couldn't even process it. On the side of the streets there were woman wearing the bright sarongs and dots on their head. Naked kids were running around the doorways and people were selling all sorts of goods and produce from blinkats on the dirt sidewalks. Some people had starkly dark skin with sand or green color eyes. The people were very different looking, very exotic, and some of them (men & woman) were beautiful. You could tell a distinct difference in the people and that they came from different ethnic groups. Some were very "Indian" looking while others had a mongol facial structure or SE Asian appearance. Old men were wearing traditional nepalis topi hats and walking casually down the street. I am not sure the correct term, but medicine type looking men....or shamanistic men were walking barefoot through the streets with brightly painted faces and tribal outfits. Hindu is the primary religion and it is apparent on every street corner and throughout the people walking by. There are also a lot of Buddhists and the religions coincide and mix through all the different ethnic groups. Once we arrived to the hotel, I went to my room dropped my bags sat on the bed and took my first real breath since I had arrived. As I layed there for a few minutes decompressing all that I saw, I started laughing out loud as I thought to myself "we sure as hell aren't in Kansas anymore...are we Andrea?" <br />That afternoon I walked through the streets to browse the shops and get some things booked with my tour agency. My friend Brad recommended this woman named Sharada to help set me up with a rafting tour and find a guide to hike with. She was a really nice lady and I immediately got a good vibe from her. Walking through all of the streets was way more intense then driving through them. I can't emphasize enough how disorderly the traffic jams appear to be, but somehow people manage to work their way through. After walking for a few hours I realized that I was completely lost. I didn't take note of where my hotel was and all the streets looked the same to me. I tried my best to look like I knew where I was going and discreetly look at my map from time to time. A man came up to me and asked me how long I had been in Kathmandu. I told him I had just arrived and he said he had just arrived 3 days ago. He was hoping I could tell him some things about the tourist sites. His name was Firdaus and he was from Tajikistan. He spoke really good english and seemed well educated. It looked like he had been doing some shopping as he was holding a few bags at the time. I told him I was lost so he volunteered to walk me to my hotel. It was about 7pm and there were tons of people still out and about so I found nothing peculiar about him accompanying me. I was actually really fascinated because I had never met anyone from Tajikistan before so I drilled him with questions about the landscape, government, religion, food, and culture. He was really nice and explained everything to me. Turned out he worked for the UN development for Tajikistan and was in Nepal for a conference. When we got to the area where my hotel was, we decided to grab a bite to eat. We continued chatting. During dinner he asked one time if I liked to smoke hashish (weed). He had heard that there was some good stuff in the area and was thinking about getting some. A lot of travelers smoke weed so I didn't think the question was that unusual. I told him that I actually wasn't too interested in doing it. I had just arrived this same day and I didn't like messing with that kind of stuff in a foreign country.....especially when I didn't have my barrings straight, yet. The more and more we talked, the more he started acting more interested in me. He would compliment me and say how he was glad that we met and it was such a nice surprise for him. He seemed nice, but I wasn't interested in him like that and was just trying to have a good chat and eat some dinner. I asked for his email though so we could be facebook friends. As we left the restuarant the exhaustion of the travel day started to hit me. He wanted to continue hanging out and pressed the hashish question to me again. I told him he was free to go and find some, but I was probably heading back to the hotel. I mentioned that I was going to try to site see the next day and wanted some rest. He was planning on site seeing the next day as well so I told him that maybe we could meet up and split the cost on transport. It was at this time that things turned a little weird. He kinda avoided the conversation about meeting the next day, but continued to press hanging out this night. He kept saying how he wanted to spend time with me since he was leaving the following afternoon. I was like...thats cool, but we can hang out tomorrow bc I am tired now. He got a weird look in his eyes and wouldn't accept that I was heading to bed. Since I didn't want hashish, he suggested that we buy some beers and the market and find somewhere to hang out. It got awkward and finally I just shook his hand goodnight and I left. I really didn't think much of it....I thought he was a bit weird for coming on as strong as he did. I wasn't sure if he was going to meet me the next day because he seemed to only be interested in hanging out that evening. So, I went to bed not worrying too much about....if he was there tomorrow then cool, if not then whatever. That night I plug his email into facebook, but nothing turned up. As I went to sleep, I wondered just how genuine of a person he really was.<br />The next morning I stopped into Sharada's office to finalize some plans. I told her that I was going to meet this guy to go see the sites. She stopped working on what she writing and put her pen down. "Who are you going to meet?", she asked. I explained to her the story and how he helped me back to my hotel and we had dinner etc. That it would be nice to site see with someone and split the cost of the cabs. She crossed her fingers on top of the desk like a principle and said "No Andrea, don't go with him....don't go anywhere with anyone that you meet out there in those streets. It doesn't matter what they tell you or where they are from. There are a lot of bad guys out there. You need to do the sites alone. Don't listen to what anyone tells you and accept any invitations like that." I sensed something weird about the guy towards the end of the night, but it was good to have Sharada reiterate that there are some nasty people lingering around. If he was a con artist, he really posed himself well with his shopping bags and knowlege of Tajikistan. Also, he expressed tourists statements about the city of Pokhara in which he was visiting for the seminar and how nice the lake was and beautiful the city was. With his odd hashish remarks, perhaps he was trying to get me into some sort of drug deal in which I would have to pay off the cops and in return he would get a kickback for setting me up. Or, maybe he was planning to drug me and steal my money. Who knows? <br />I left Sharada's office and walked past the meeting spot that we agreed on just to see if he would turn up. He was nowhere in site. I never received an email or anything from him again. The next day 3 seperate incidences of good looking, well spoken men approached me. They either had the story of how they were students trying to learn english and would like to spend the day with me chatting. Or that they would like to show me around the tourist sites. I just ignored them and went on my way. I felt foolish and dissappointed in myself. I had been traveling for 11 months and I could have potentially fallen into one of the biggest tourist scams. it is an unfortunate situation because I love talking to people and learning about their lives and cultures...and where they are from. But I won't be able to be as open in Nepal or India....especially not while I am traveling alone. It sucks and is frustrating because now I am going to view that all the locals are talking to me because they have an agenda - or they want something from me.<br /><br />Sharada had given me a 2 day itinerary for all of the site seeing in Kathmandu and surrounding areas. She assured me that I could do it all on my own by walking and taking local buses. The first place on my list was the small town of Bhaktapur which was 12 km outside of the city center. It is under Unesco world heritage and has been well preserved to show the architecture and culture of historical nepal. All I had to do to get to the city was walk about 30 minutes through Kathmandu to this local bus station. It seemed simple enough to me. Well, within 10 minutes I was lost again roaming through the streets. With the madness of the crowds and traffic, it was all I could do to stay on my feet and keep walking....it was making it difficult to look for street names and markers. As I got further and further out of the tourist district, seeing westerners became far and few between. I was now amongst the inner city workings. People blatently started at me as they walked by as if I were an exhibition in a museum. I kept listening to Sharada's voice in my head as she told me it would be no problem to do all of this on my own. I was a little skeptical of her advice at that moment in time. Luckily, I stumbled across a clock tower that I knew was close to the bus station. From there, I pushed my way through the masses to the corner where I needed to catch the bus. There were dozens of rickity old mini busses with people yelling schedules and destinations in Nepalis. Locals were jumping on and off the busses as they were still moving down the street. There were no westerners in site and I questioned whether this was the correct bus station. I walked up to a small kid....he must have been about 12 years old. He was haggling people to get onto the bus he worked for. I pointed to the city on the map and he nodded yes and started pushing me onto the bus. " Wait, wait....how much is the ticket", I asked. "50 rupees mam". Sharada had told me to pay no more then 25. "How about 25 rupees?" The kid rolled his eyes....nodded yes again and threw me into the bus. I thought it was a little rude that he rolled his eyes....I figured he was frustrated that I knew it should have been lower. We waited about 20 minutes until they filled every inch of space on the bus up. Disabled and blind people would bored the bus asking for change from the locals. Everyone just ignored them. We drove by slums where kids were flying kites, women were chatting with each other, and the poor were digging through mounds of trash. Once again...my eyes were glued to the window as I watched the organized chaos happening around us. It was so different then anything in the western world. An hour had passed, and since the town was only 12km away I decided to ask the guy next to me how close we were. He said a few more minutes. The kid came around to collect the money. The kid was yelling 50 rupees again at me and some of the others. I guessed that maybe it was the correct fare after all. I handed him a 50 and then he gave me 35 rupees back in change. Ooohhhhhhhh....he was saying 15 rupees the entire time. No wonder the little weezle rolled his eyes at me. He must have thought I was crazy when I was like "make it 25 rupees and I will get on." So yeah....I felt like a dumbass...<br /><br />The city of Bhaktapor was enchanting. It was so much quieter and low key then Kathmandu. In the city square there are no cars allowed so you can walk freely among the cobble stones streets without fear of getting run over. The city reminded me of Siena, Italy....or Cuzco, Peru. All the buildings and narrow streets were old and miedeval looking. I found myself walking for a few hours and letting myself get lost in the small and humble town. I peered into windows of houses and saw artisans at work. There were wood carvers, rug weavers, painters, paper makers, and pottery throwers. I wanted to take pictures of everything but I felt that it was not appropriate at that time...since the people were in their homes working. Instead, I just absorbed the elements around me. At one point it started to rain so I stopped into a small restaurant, ordered a pot of tea, and journaled as I watched people walking by me. I could have stayed in the town much longer, but I needed to get back to Kathmandu before it got dark. At my rate of getting lost....I needed ample time to find my way home again.<br />The next day was much better for me. My sense of direction was improving and I was feeling more confident in my step. I had to go get a hiking permit at this office which was next to the bus station from the day before. As I jumped into the crowds and meandered through the streets, I came upon a guy who looked very lost. He was pale white with blond hair and blue eyes. He was holding a map and stress was across his face. He made eye contact and headed over in my direction. When he asked for help I wasn't sure if it was some silly scam again. He told me he was trying to find the permit office. Since I was heading to the same office I told him he could come with me. His name was Andy and he was from Norway. When I told him I was from Austin he got a huge smile on his face and told me he was a musician and his band went to SXSW music festival a few years back. I figured at that point that he was probably harmless and was just a lost tourist after all. Andy was super nice and we walked through the city together chatting it up. He was impressed with my "sense of direction" and I had to laugh and admit that the day before I was a mess and had no clue what I was doing. On our way to the permit office we turned down a street and were bombarded with 100s of goats. They were tied up and people were sheparding them around. As it turns out, there is a huge Hindu festival here right now and the goats were actually going to be used in animal sacrifices in the Hindu temples. It was weird walking through them and knowing that they only had days or hours to live before they were slaughtered in the name of religion. <br />I had decided to do an 11 day trek in the Himalayas. I was hoping to meet some other travelers doing the same trek on the same day, but I never ran into any. Since I was unfamiliar with the terrain, royally out of shape, and a solo female, I decided to hire a personal nepalis guide. It was an expense I had not planned on, but after a lot of thought, I realized it would be a good way to learn some culture and help to give back to the Nepalis economy. Sharada set me up with this guide named Nyrma. He was 26 and when I first met him he was extremely shy and turned red in the face when I talked to him. I was a bit concerned about how the next 11 days were going to be. Sharada assured me that he would open up on the trail.<br />So...that is where I leave you now. I am in the town of Pokhara and tomorrow I will be setting off with my personal guide into the mountains of the Himalayas. I am really excited to get out into the nature and seperate myself from the modern world for a few days. My poor body is going to have a rude awakening, but it will be some much needed excercise.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-12955321557504169802009-09-02T08:06:00.000-07:002009-09-17T06:39:07.279-07:00Me, Myself, and Thailand<div>I woke up the morning of my flight to Bangkok and realized I hadn't planned or booked anything for Thailand. I had been so used to traveling with people and figuring it out as we went, but here I was....going to a new country all alone. I hadn't read up on the culture, the currency, or how to get into the city from the airport. All of a sudden a wave of anxiety went through me. I whipped out the Lonely Planet and read up on everything on the flight in.<br /><br />I think I was more nonchalant with Thailand because I had heard it was an easy country. They have been catering to tourism for decades and it was a comfortable destination for a lot of travelers. In fact, according to the guide book, it is a great country to start off your SE Asia journey. Exotic yet comfortable enough to get your barrings straight. Well....looks like I did SE Asia backwards then. I arrived to Thailand....my last country to visit in SE Asia.<br /><br />It was actually a bit of a travelers high landing in a foreign country at 10pm with no accomodation. I hailed a cab and told him to take me to a popular backpacking strip in the city. I had heard a few horrors stories about cabs scamming you for more money, so I instantly wrote down all of his numbers and licensing information. My Grandmother Galant's adamant philosophy of "Trust No One" kicked in. Like I said....it had been awhile since I was alone and I was a little more paranoid then usual.<br /><br />But alas....I made it safely to the inner city. I walked around the streets for a bit pricing out different hotels. I had really lived it up in the Philippines with the Boyce's home and nice hotel in Boracay...so for some reason I decided to stay in a shit hole to bring me back down to "backpacker" status. For about $4 a night I found a room that was about the size of my closet at home and all it contained was a bed. No trashcan, no night table...nada. Just a bed with a bottom sheet on it. There was a communal bathroom downstairs that didn't look like it had been cleaned in a few weeks. I even did an experiment to prove the point to myself. I put a couple strands of my hair on the shower wall and it never moved during my 3 days of staying there. I knew that most of the nastiness on the walls had been there for quite some time. Needless to say.....it was gross and brought me back down to my dirty backpacking ways.<br /><br />My first day in Bangkok was so refreshing. I was completely on my own in this very large and dynamic city. I spent hours walking the streets. There is a famous street called Khoa San Road, which is where all the backpackers hangout. It is a site in itself, with 100s of tourists walking around and vendors selling all sorts of crafts. Music is blaring from every bar and restaurant and you could get any type of food from around the world. There is a mix of hippies, backpackers, holiday goers, sex tourists, families, couples, and anyone else in between walking througout this area. I spent some time there sipping on fresh fruit smoothies and people watching. Near Khoa San Road there is this major holy area....its basically like the Vatican City, but for Thai Buddhists. A lot of people come here for there religious pilgrimage. In the sweltering heat, I wandered my way to the area. Apparently you can't have your legs showing within the temple walls, so I was given this thick sarong to wrap around my waiste. I already had pit sweat all the way down to my abdomin so you can imagine how thrilled I was to put more clothes on. I joined the mass crowds into the area and was overtaken with tall golden stupas in every direction. The design, architecture, colors, and statues are so different then that of the christian religions. If I wasn't so hot I could have spent a lot more time looking at everything. The most famous site in the area is the Emerald Buddha. There was a really long line coming outside of the temple to get a glance of the Buddha. I was starting to get in an ornery mood from the heat and crowds, but decided I better take a look at it since I was here. When I finally made it inside the temple I was overtaken by the site. The Buddha was not very large, which surprised me. But it was high above everyone pearing down over its believers. Surrounding the buddha was what seemed like 100s of golden statues and other Buddhas. For a few moments of time, I forgot about the sweat and the crowds and stared in amazement around me.<br /><br />After the heat stroke that I almost had in the holy area, I decided to check out the shopping district and mega malls since they had airconditioning. I hopped in a tuk-tuk and had one of the neatest 40 minute rides. As we flew through the city streets we passed by schools, hospitals, and neighborhood districts. We weren't in the tourist part of town anymore and it was really neat to look down the ally ways and see the workings of daily life. One thing that really stuck out to me was the immense propaganda for the Thai Royal family. On every street corner and in each business there were pictures of the King and Queen. There are even stores where you can buy Royal Family parafanalia like lifesize cardboard figures. Thailand is a constitutional Monarchy and according to Wikapedia, The king has reigned for more than sixty-three years, making him the longest reigning Thai Monarch and the longest reigning current monarch in the world. It appears that the people really respect the Royal Family and it is really frowned upon to disgrace them. I read in the papers about an extreme activist being inprisoned for saying malicious remarks regarding the King. Here is a picture of a sign of the Queen overlooking a major intersection.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicxtXHzVtr1rk3ZGHvbwpouemp60eI2rGIDyFiN09T-i0J_zmXrf1V7MPOPyqKlmXWWHAEmQjIEqrnG1U3bzxn_GPr6Y3Hq13Z5XpPl3Erg0GNSTD2V_-kbUUboXmPnC0d2jhY5yjBb1rs/s1600-h/IMG_2556.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382428301503174498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicxtXHzVtr1rk3ZGHvbwpouemp60eI2rGIDyFiN09T-i0J_zmXrf1V7MPOPyqKlmXWWHAEmQjIEqrnG1U3bzxn_GPr6Y3Hq13Z5XpPl3Erg0GNSTD2V_-kbUUboXmPnC0d2jhY5yjBb1rs/s320/IMG_2556.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The shopping district was pretty impressive with modern mega malls and cinemaplexis. Coincidentaly I found my favorite make-up store, MAC, in one of the malls and I happend to be low on my concealer. MAC was right next to The Outback Steakhouse. I couldn't imagine eating at an Outback in Thailand with all of the good local food around. Another surprise was the Dairy Queen I stumbled across. I am not sure about you, but I pretty much thought there were only Dairy Queens in small rural Texas towns. so when I stumbled across one in the middle of Bangkok I had to indulge myself. I try to steer clear of the western food chains, but DAIRY QUEEN?? Seriously? Needless to say, the western culture had leaked in all around me.<br /><br />Watching movies in foreign countries is a weird pleasure of mine because I like to see how their movie theatre experience is and it gives me a few hours that I can vegg out. The only English speaking movie at that time was one called The Orphan. I bought the ticket and then walked past a billboard for it to then realize it was a scary movie. Greeaaaatt....nothing like being alone and watching a horror film. So on the ticket was a seat number. There were only about 5 people in the theater, but the usher walked me to my correct seat number and motioned for me to sit down. The previews were absolutely hilarious. In between an American film preview, they would show a Japanese film preview. It was always these intense martial art fight scenes and then a moment of saddness and despair as they zeroed in on one of the characters dramatic eyes...BACK to the kung fu drop kicks....then slow, melodramatic music as one of the men dies. Symbols of the language were flying across the screen which I did not understand, but somehow I knew exactly what they were saying by the emotional faces. After the previews, a sign on the screen read "Please pay respects to your royal majesty". Everyone stood up in the theater. The Thai National Anthem started playing as a photo montage of the King was presented on the screen. I quickly stood up to pay my respects and not stick out like a stupid Farang...or (white tourist). Who could have imagined all the cultural experience in simply going to a movie. In between my travels through Bangkok, I managed to see not 1, but 4 movies :) and I ate Dairy Queen twice....shhhhh!<br /><br />I had heard from a few travelers that a town in Northern Thailand, Chiang Mai, was a really good place to chill out for a few days. I bought a ticket for a 15 hour sleeper train in 2nd class. This meant there was no A/C, but I would have a fan. Now is probably a good time to bring you up on my latest bowel movement issues. I know...I know...some of you cringe when I bring up my bathroom situations, but it is amazing how big a part it is in traveling...well, at least my traveling anyhow. So my last few days in Laos and through my 2 weeks in Philippines I had been batteling constipation. I still can't decide which is worse, diahrea or constipation and I suppose it is all relative on the specific situation and/or location. But needless to say....a lot of food was going in me and not a lot was coming out. That always puzzles me. Well, for whatever reason...perhaps it was the spicy chicken soup I ate an hour beforehand, my stomach gave me a nice haunting rumble the moment I boarded the train and we departed the station. I immediatly chewed 3 pepto tablets and sent happy thoughts to my tummy convincing myself that mind over matter could solve this problem. The rumbles, which felt more like birthing contractions, came about every 4 minutes. I had even gotten to the point where I was counting the seconds on my watch to get me through each session. Sweat was running down my face and I knew there was going to be a date with the bathroom at some point along the journey. Finally, after about 3 hours of trying to remain calm, I made my way to the 2nd class bathroom. It, of course, was a squat toilet. I had gotten to a bad point of being sick and tried to do what I could to feel better. The "squatting" position wasn't working for me to well because being that far down sent a wave of nausia through me. In the midst of it all, we passed a street light and I saw the light come up from the hole I was peering down. Turns out the squat hole went right down onto the tracks.....I felt bad for whatever town we were passing through. Chills were going through my body and my stomach was hurting uncontrollably. I wanted so bad to lay on the ground and wait for the next round of contractions, but this was not the type of bathroom floor you could lay down on. I grabbed onto the "oh shit" handle that they had next to the hole since the train is constantly moving all over and hung there like dead weight. I started crying......I knew this moment would pass, but it was such an unfortunate situation that all I could do was cry and wimper to myself. After being in the bathroom for about an hour, I felt that the worst of it was over. I walked back outside and glanced at myself in the mirror...it looked as if I had just taken a shower with my clothes on from all the sweat. Fortunetaly though, the rest of the train ride I was able to sleep...<br />It was Sunday when I arrived to Chiang Mai, and that is the day for its weekly night market. The town center was filled with vendors of all types. At the start of the market there was an announcement through city wide speakers and everyone stopped and became silent. Then the National Anthem began and I realized it was another "majesty respect" moment. I was beginning to get used to this custom. The market was really neat because it wasn't a market for tourists....but for the locals. Yes, there were other tourists around, but 95% were other Thais. They had everything from art work, jewelry, clothes, furniture, and foods. Behind the vendor stalls were rows and rows of chairs with people getting foot massages. For $2 I got a fantastic foot rub while watching the streams of people shopping in front of me. There were street perfomers of all kinds....musicians, mimes, and dancers. Some people were disabled or blind playing instruments. I noticed the locals giving them all money. It was a lovely first evening in Chiang Mai and I got a really good vibe for the city.<br />The next day I scouted out the town and found a yoga studio that had really good prices. I had been craving to excercise these past few months and decided this would be the perfect time for yoga. I took a yoga class each day I was there and it felt really good to do something positive for my body.<br />One night, I decided to buy a ticket to a Muay Thai fight. I am not really into violence and fighting, but this is a big part of the Thai culture and I wanted to see what it was all about. It actually turned out to be a really unique experience. There was this sense of spirituality and ceremonial practice that coincided with the fighting...it seemed much more then just aggressive violence. Before each match, the fighter does what is called the Ram Muay ritual dance. It is like this aesthetic, dance-like ritual, which seemed to last about five minutes. There was a live band next to the ring that would play music during the ritual and fight. The tempo would change in accordance to what was happening in the ring. It was really awesome! There were a total of 8 fights which included fighters aged 11 to 30 something and even some woman as well. Each fighter had their own strategy and style....some fights started off intense from round 1 while others worked there way into it. I sat next to the bookies and was able to watch them gamble on each match. It was a very entertaining evening.<br />While in Chiang Mai I also decided to take a cooking course for a day. I know nothing about cooking, but surprisingly it was a lot of fun and I learned a lot. We started out at an open market where my teacher, Boom, taught us about thai foods. We bought all of our fresh ingredients that we were going to cook with that day. We cooked up 8 courses and I learned all about the different sauces and vegetables. I can't wait to cook some of those things when I get back to Austin. The picture below is of me in cooking action....I almost singed the eyebrows off the girl next to me. Who wants to come over for dinner when I'm cooking????<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTcH6RL4EfHmXKSTPFb0ZlHq7oD6r2_Di382B4KIstD3jFgv4PMs5OEjoIiujmxUZ0Gf03zePjS263JThyphenhyphenvTLAlqLepAoCPlgmIaqd1uIfhA3CoBx-Fd9J24xrCgfuuoVkZEE_w8rKZJIi/s1600-h/IMG_2893.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382429854471206530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTcH6RL4EfHmXKSTPFb0ZlHq7oD6r2_Di382B4KIstD3jFgv4PMs5OEjoIiujmxUZ0Gf03zePjS263JThyphenhyphenvTLAlqLepAoCPlgmIaqd1uIfhA3CoBx-Fd9J24xrCgfuuoVkZEE_w8rKZJIi/s320/IMG_2893.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />There is this place called the Tiger Kingdom where you can go and play with live tigers. I had never been up close and personal with a tiger before so I fell into the tourist trap and paid a lot of money to hang out with them for 30 minutes. It was pretty cool and I got some neat photos, however, you always have to ask yourself how right the situation is that the tigers are being captive for tourist enjoyment. On a positive note, the area they were in was clean and roomy and all the tigers looked healthy. The trainers treated them kindly from what I could tell..... Then my tuk-tuk driver took me to a place called the "snake farm". Contrary to the tiger kingdom, this place would have had PETA up in arms. It was one of the weirdest yet entertaining experiences I have had in a long time. First of all, there were no other tourists there. Just me. There was this stadium type show room where they did snake performances. Before the show, I walked around the area to view weird exotic animals, reptiles, and birds locked in busted up cages. Finally, it was show time and since I was the only tourist there all eyes were on me. I sat down and watched in weird amazement as these Thai men taunted and flung deadly snakes around the room. The host of the show was this short little man who had the weirdest english accent. Almost like he studied english from a radio advertisement personality. He turned on some denomic techno music really loud and then after about 5 seconds he would turn the music down and say something like "snake is very poisonous". Then turn the music up loud, then turn it down again and say "snake can kill you", then music up again...down again... <music>"5 hours from hospital we are"..music up and down.. <music>"very very poisonous"....this went on throughout the entire show and I wasn't sure what was more entertaining....the snakes or the weird announcer guy. They definitely did some crazy stuff like kissing cobras on the back or catching the snakes with their teeth. It was weird.....very very weird. After the show my tuk-tuk driver asked me if I wanted to go see the monkey show, but I just told him to take me back to my guesthouse. I had seen enough bizarre animal stuff for one day.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3L-AXsKGW8H22q7olkovrkJnTTW4jfJyldtEj85n8CfuxFtECXKd5XG6vBTO2D3NTBfHy_CxTWWmOXWeNpT7ZUdXYvPSF4QQLJrpzlsY6sKckWm-1C2XOpLXohFvqPgn9DdKglHIY4_C/s1600-h/IMG_2834.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382429179655214242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3L-AXsKGW8H22q7olkovrkJnTTW4jfJyldtEj85n8CfuxFtECXKd5XG6vBTO2D3NTBfHy_CxTWWmOXWeNpT7ZUdXYvPSF4QQLJrpzlsY6sKckWm-1C2XOpLXohFvqPgn9DdKglHIY4_C/s320/IMG_2834.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I had been riding solo for a few days and I decided that it was time for some socializing. I decided to go to this bar that was famous for its live music. It's kind of funny, but one of the hardest things for me to do is to walk into a bar all alone and hang out. It's not like anyone is meeting me there or I know where I am or what I am doing.....it is just me walking into a weird black hole of unknowningness. I get real self conscious, which is silly, but that is how I feel. Anyways, there I was drinking a beer and jamming out to some tunes while I looked around to everyone else in their groups having conversations. I scanned the room and found another girl chilling by herself as well. I sayed hi to her and asked her some stupid question about the band to start conversation. Turned out she was alone too so we started chatting it up. A group of french guys sat next to me to share my table and we started chatting as well. They bought tequila shots for everyone and that is when the party started. Before I knew it, I was on the dance floor hanging out with tons of people I hardly knew. The night went on and on and eventually I went to a lounge next door to sit down and drink some water. I ended up chatting with a group of local people. One was a lady boy who took the night off.....she/he was dressed as a man, but had the same mannerisms as a female. Normally she dresses as a woman, though. I also met a local Thai girl named Nine, we got along really well and we ended up hanging out for a few days as she showed me around the city. I went out not knowing any one, but had local friends by the end of the night.<br />Nine was 31 but looked a few years younger then that. She left her small village and poor family in her early 20s to move to the big city. She found a job and saved money and put herself through school. She spoke decent English and was very intelligent. She loves photography and is now studying to be a photographer. We had a lot of fun together and if I stayed in Chiang Mai longer I think we would have become good friends. One night she took me to go see her ex boyfriend's band play at this restaurant. When I met him, I was surprised to see that he was an older, chubby Australian man. It is very common for western men to live in SE ASia and have Asian girlfriends. Most of the time I pass it off as nasty men praying on beautiful young girls....and the girls simply looking for someone to take care of them financially. So when I saw that there was a similar situation with Nine, I decided to ask her some questions about it. First of all, as I mentioned before, Nine didn't seem to be the type that needed taking care of....she had an independent spirit about her. I asked her if she was attracted to Western men more then Thai men. She explained to me that she had more freedoms when she dated western men. In the Thai culture, there are a lot more limitations and cultural restrictions when dating. She explained that she was attracted to Thai men, but did not fancy the lifestyle that it would give her. Since she had left her village and done so much on her own, she enjoyed the "western" dating culture better. It made more sense to me....and as the night went on, I realized that the chubby older guy was actually really nice. And I could see how she enjoyed his endearing personality.<br /><br />Chiang Mai was a great city. I enjoyed being on my own again, doing some yoga, and spending some time researching my future travels. I was pretty tempted to stay there for my entire duration of Thailand, but decided I better go check out one of the islands (since that is what Thailand is famous for). I figured one week relaxing in a bungalow would be good before heading to Nepal.<br /><br />A few years back, my friend Brad spent a lot of time on the island of Ko Tao. He became really close to a Thai family that owns a resort there. I decided to go check out the resort and say hello to the family for him.<br /><br />Ko Tao was the perfect place to chill out in for a bit. Most backpackers hit up some of the other "party" islands...and even though there is partying on Ko Tao, you are also able to just relax and take it easy.<br /><br />The family that ran the resort was really excited when I mentioned that I knew Brad. He spent several months on the island and was able to develop a strong relationship with the people. Unfortunetaly, I was only going to be around for a few days and knew that I would not have the same experience as him.<br /><br />Each morning I tried to go for a walk around the hills of the island to try and get some excercise. There was this killer hill that Brad told me he used to attempt to run up every day. I was amazed that he could run up this hill as I could hardly even walk up it without taking a break. It felt like it was a mile long and neverending up this mountain. I was also a little worried because in about a weeks time I would be hiking the Himalayas in Nepal....the fact that I could hardly "walk" up a hill freaked me out a bit. I did a lot of hiking in New Zealand and had really strong legs then, but that was about 6 months ago...and well....I'm not in as good of shape anymore. Anyways....enough about that.<br /><br />I stayed in this really cute bungalow at the resort. I had a deck with a chair and would spend time reading and writing. About a minutes walk away and I was on the sandy beach and the resort pool...it was nice.<br /><br />The only thing that was weird was that I was surrounded by lovebirds. Young couples everywhere were kissing and frolocking in the ocean. I seriously felt like I was in a movie because everyone was beautiful, tan, skinny, and in love. Meanwhile, I was this pudgy single girl laying on the beach in solitude writing in my journal like a freak! I had to chuckle about it from time to time.....and I told myself that someday I would come back. Yes, I would come back with my lover and I would be thin and tan and we would frolock in the waves at sunset. But this trip was not meant for that.....this time it was just me, myself, and Thailand :)<br /><br />In a few days I will say goodbye to SE Asia. I learned so much about the history and culture of the countries that I visited. The food was AMAZING and the people were great. I would love to come back someday to see some of the areas I didn't get to this time.<br /><br />I am really looking forward to Nepal though....the scenery, people, culture, and lifestyles are going to be like nothing I have ever seen before. </div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-89967345108456474352009-08-23T17:40:00.000-07:002009-08-24T18:35:07.515-07:00"Holiday" in the PhilippinesMy 2 week "holiday" to the Philippines was a blast. You may think it is selfish of me to call this a "holiday" as I am traveling around the world. But travel and vacationing are completely different things. Travel is exhausting, complicated, but rewarding. Vacations are relaxing, easy, and kill a lot of brain cells.<br />My friend Jeremy came to visit me. If you remember from my "Prince and the Pauper" blog, he likes to travel well. He also has a college friend that works in Manila named Eric Calhoun and then my friends parents (the Boyce's) live there as well.<br />When I arrived to the airport, the Boyce's picked me up. Actually, their driver, Mario drove me back from the airport. The Boyce's have been residing in Manila for 5 years working for Emerson (a US company). Life is very different in the Philippines for them. They have a personal driver, cook, maid, gardner, and pool guy. It was a bit overwhelming for me to come from the backpacking lifestyle to this situation. Joan Boyce explained to me that it was a little strange for them at first as well, but that it is how the culture is. It isn't just the expats that have the working help either. The Boyce's lived in a very nice subarb and said that it was 95% Filipino. Some houses had security guards out front and tons of workers in the yard etc. It was just the way the society worked.<br />My experience in the Philippines was a unique one. I spent it from the perspective of the expat life....it was interesting to visit a 3rd world country from that point of view. Honestly, it was hard for me to come to grips that the place was at 3rd world status. We visited mega malls with stores like Gucci, Prada, Louie, etc. We dined at upscale restuarants and everything was in English. But as soon as you got out of the "comfortable" areas, it was poverty stricken. With the few days I had in Manila, I tried my best to get a glimps of the culture and history. I didn't even skim the top of it though. But here is what I absorbed.<br />First of all, the Philippines is so different from any of the other Asian countries I have visited. They say...(which by the way, when I say "they", I mean LonelyPlanet guidebook) that you think you have seen SE Asia until you get to the Philippines. Well, they were right. It is this weird mixture of Spanish (yes spanish!) and American influences. Spain conquered the islands in the 1500s and then America purchased Puerto Rico, Guam, and Philippines for 20 million in 1898. The Americans pushed the english language and developed much of the urban areas of the country that are used today. The sad part of all of this, is that the Filipino culture itself has always been on the backburner and most of the progress comes from America. After WWII they gained their own independence, but it is clear today, that America is still a big presence.<br />So back to why it is so much different then the other Asian countries I have visited. Instead of monks walking around everywhere, you see priests. The spanish missionaries converted every island except for one, which is muslim. It is interesting how much a religion can define a culture. It doesn't have the same vibe as Cambodia or Laos in regards to the spirituality of Buddhism.<br />My favorite thing so far is the transport. Here, they have what is called a Jeepney. They were built in the 1950s. The front part is an American jeep from WWII and then they expanded the back into a bus. For 7cents you can go 5 blocks. This is how all the locals get around. Each Jeepney driver jazzes up the truck in their own custom-built way. They have names like "Elmer Gonzales" on the front and "In God We Trust" down the side. Some are super pimped out with shiney clean tires and music blaring and then others are pretty run down. Here is an example of one.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJDvPDfN2K9_GpfHxpJREtsvDVMzcmXRY5F0XgzDGzyjVBd32kFnvahGK4_zUHi75oJjkGULpEpcx6RoOOJ91-D6D7LkvL3W3R5GTIHPqnjp1QEQvCNnCSGPpvkEa3Vk9n0pyeEKOB_DN/s1600-h/IMG_5422.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373417415193523842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJDvPDfN2K9_GpfHxpJREtsvDVMzcmXRY5F0XgzDGzyjVBd32kFnvahGK4_zUHi75oJjkGULpEpcx6RoOOJ91-D6D7LkvL3W3R5GTIHPqnjp1QEQvCNnCSGPpvkEa3Vk9n0pyeEKOB_DN/s320/IMG_5422.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />If I ever come back to Philippines I want to take tons of photos of the jeepneys and make a picture book. They each had their own personality and I loved it!!!<br />Mario, the Boyce's driver, took me and Jeremy around town for a few days. We went to the famous "Greenhill's Market" where you can barter and buy knock-offs of whatever you can imagine. Since I live out of a backpack I don't purchase many items, but Jeremy went to town. He was trying on sunglasses, shoes, Lacoste shirts, and flip-flops. I think he spent about $30 and walked out of the place with multiple bags. Joan also took us to her DVD dealer. Jeremy bought tons of DVDs for about $1 a pop. It was hilarious because the vendors have all these hand signs and eye movements with each other to communicate if the police are coming to invade and do a round up. Nothing happend when I was there, but Joan said one time there was a raid and within 30 seconds all of the DVD stores were packed up and on the move. It is a blackmarket business!!<br />Next we went to the American Cemetary. It was humbling to see all of the graves and lists of people that died in WWII in the Philippines. During WWII, Japan took advantage of the war going on in Europe to invade the Philippines. Many people died, but the invasion wasn't successful. I didn't really know about all of that side of history so it was pretty interesting.<br />For dinner a few of the nights, their cook Lisa would make an outstanding meal for us. I couldn't imagine having my own personal cook each night. Every day they would wash and iron our clothes. Even my underwear was ironed!!!! And not to mention, I had my own room for the first time in 6 months!!! It was a nice few days in Manila....like I said, the perception was interesting...3rd world country, but the poshest I have traveled since I started my journey.<br />For 2 days, the Boyce's took us a few hours away to this place called Puerto Galera. It is this gorgeous fishing and beach island where you can scuba dive. I have not been diving in 5 years so I was a little worried about getting back into it. Luckily, I felt relaxed underwater and rememberd just how amazing scuba diving is. The marine life was awesome! I saw tons of nudibranchs (little colorful snails), coral reef fans, lion fish, eels, etc. The colors were so vivid. On our 3rd dive we went to this place called Verde Island. Normally you have to be a little more advanced to dive there, but no one said anything to me. When we got down in the water they realized the current was super strong. We were being pushed out everywhere and trying to stay together. It was a pretty intense dive and Jeremy said it was one of the hardest he had dealt with. I was excited that I handled it so well. The reef that we were on was filled with 1000s of fish. I was swimming amongst them and thought to myself, if I were ever a fish...this is the place I would want to live. It was AWESOME! Here is a pic of a nudibranch.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggLZOFNl_IhehBTB5HYY_fN6RiSlKFXkIRbUw8fVTGHe97qac735tJ6nXPkw3OMPpYIeIcwl_tJVUMWrH4QAPaNCQQ7JbetqCLkd_k2GYk9ZpLaOn8KUP8p2YT5ZUyEO0BPOvM9c0cTE36/s1600-h/IMG_3146.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373707391636913842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggLZOFNl_IhehBTB5HYY_fN6RiSlKFXkIRbUw8fVTGHe97qac735tJ6nXPkw3OMPpYIeIcwl_tJVUMWrH4QAPaNCQQ7JbetqCLkd_k2GYk9ZpLaOn8KUP8p2YT5ZUyEO0BPOvM9c0cTE36/s320/IMG_3146.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />After Puerto Galera, we headed back to Manila to meet up with our friend, Eric Calhoun. We were going to go with him to this destination party island called Boracay. Just google image Boracay to see what type of place this is.....freaking awesome!!!!<br />We were flying on this super sketch prop plane called SeaAir. We said our Hail Mary's and borded the plane. It was definitely a scary take-off and landing, but we made it ok.<br />As I mentioned before....we were on "Holiday", so we splurged for a nice hotel and ate at swanky restaurants. The beach was gorgeous!!!!!! Seriously, if you ever need a place to relax and beach it up, come to the Philippines. We spent our days lounging on the beach, drinking cocktails, and getting massages. The massages are so cheap here that I decided to get AT LEAST 1 a day. I'm talking hot rock, thai, swedish, body scrubs....anything you want...they got it over here for cheap!<br />On the beach, we met a few local waiters who hooked us up with drinks. We tried to give them a tip, but they just said they would rather come party with us and buy them a few drinks later instead. The next day we met up with them and they showed us the town...all the hip bars and fun places. It is always cool to go out with a local.<br />We decided to go scuba diving one day. It was another interesting dive for me. I was swimming around when all of a sudden this trigger fish started biting on my flippers. The fish was about 2 feet long and angry. Apparently, I swam over its nesting area and it was full-on attacking me. I screamed and tried to swim away but it kept coming after me...finally I got out of the nesting area. After the dive, the instructor said I was lucky that it did not bite my flesh, because it would have been a big chunk out of my leg. I am really glad that did not happen....not sure how well I would have remained calm in that situation. I have been more concerned about my breathing technique and boyancy, that I forgot about the possibility of getting attacked by some sea creature.<br />After relaxing for a few days, I decided to take Jeremy and walk around the island. I knew there was more to it then just the touristy spots. We found our way to where the locals lived. Like I said before....step a little bit outside the comfort zone and it gets rough real fast. It was neat though to see the "local" part of town.<br />Philippines has been a fun 2 week "holiday". I really enjoyed the people and getting to see a bit of the culture. But most of all, it has been nice to see some familiar faces. Two weeks just isn't enough time to get a grasp of a country, so I hope to come back here someday.<br /><br />Well, only a few more days of the nice life and then I move on again. I am going to spend some time in Thailand on my own. I am looking forward to getting back on my own again. I am hopeing to do some site seeing, yoga, and preparing myself for Nepal and India. Time flies by soooo fast, but there are still some amazing countries ahead of me.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-4287909570843911722009-08-07T01:24:00.000-07:002009-08-12T22:20:35.338-07:00ChillLAOt!<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> 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lang="EN-US">At the end of my last blog, I mentioned how we were going to be taking a 24 hour long bus ride across to the border of Laos. All of the sleeper buses were booked so we bought cheap "sitting" bus tickets. We knew it was going to be a rough ride, but I had no idea just how rough it was going to be.</span> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">A minivan loaded with other tourists picked us up at our hotel to take us to the bus station. We got dropped off at the station and this local guy whistled us over and said we needed to walk to another area. We all grabbed our bags and followed him past the station down these back alleys to this desolate corner in a warehouse district. There were about 15 tourists and we were all wondering why we were not at the station anymore. A few minutes later a busted up bus came barreling down the road. We loaded on and a guy working the bus motioned for all of us to go to the very back seats. Normally, you can spread out and sit wherever, but he was very adamant that we all squeeze together at the back. Laura and I got stuck on the very back row with 3 other people. This is the row that sits right over the engine. An Australian girl, named Belinda, was one of the people on the back row with us…we would all become very close through this bus journey.
<br /></span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">Our tickets said that it would be an aircon bus, but there was no air conditioning. Some of the seats we were in were broken, so those people tried to move to the seats up front. The guys working the bus however, would come storming back yelling in Vietnamese at them and motioning them to get back in the other seats. They would even come and grab peoples arms and throw the bags to the back of the bus…it was very aggressive and I was beginning to wonder what kind of bus we were on. I felt like Rosa Parks in the back of the bus because there were locals in the front seats, but the white people had to go to the back. No one knew what was going on and why the bus crew was so mean to us. There was no English spoken...we sort of felt like prisoners…it was all very confusing. After driving for a few hours, we pulled over to a shop and the bus guys started loading goods on. They loaded on bags of rice and animal feed all down the aisles and in the other seats. It was to the point where we had to crawl on top of these bags to even get out of the bus. They put bags under our feet as well so we just basically sat on top of them. Every few hours we would stop and load more bags on. At one point, we pulled over on the side of the road. A few of us got out to use the restroom. We waited at this point for awhile until another truck pulled up next to us. The bus crew started loading all of our bags that were on the bottom storage onto the roof. Then they loaded a lot of coolers from the truck onto the bottom. We had no idea what was in the coolers. After they filled the lower part of the bus up, they chained it together and locked it. Then one of the guys took a hammer and busted the lock in so there was no way to open it. I am not sure what was going on, but it appeared that we were “smuggling” something across the border…..why would they bust the locks in? And why did they make the cooler transfer on the side of the road miles away from any town? It was weird.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">At about 2am we pulled over for a rest stop and saw 7 other tourists on the side of the road with their bags. Apparently, they were on a bus to cross the border, but the bus dropped them off 1 hour ago and told them to wait for another bus to pick them up. They looked a little freaked out like we were and weren't sure what was going on. They were going to be getting on our bus. I had no idea where they were going to sit as the rest of the bus was filled with cargo. They ended up having to sit in the aisles and riding on top of the bags of rice. The ride was 24 hours long with no aircon and we were crammed on top of each other surrounded by cargo. Since we were sitting on top of the engine, we were sweating profusely. I had to close my eyes and meditate to a happy place for hours at a time so I wouldn´t go crazy. In all the months of travel, this was the worst bus trip so far. But alas…..we crossed the border and arrived to Vientiane, Laos. The one positive thing out of the bus journey was that we met Belinda…aka “Super Onesy” (which I will explain later in the blog). Laura, Belinda, and I would end up traveling together through Laos. </span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">The vibe and culture in Laos is a complete polar opposite from Vietnam. It is like all of a sudden you can take this breath of fresh air, release the tension in your shoulders and relax. I absolutely loved my time in Vietnam, but it is a fast paced hustle and bustle type atmosphere….in Laos….you just chill out! There was no traffic, no honking, and no vendors at every street corner hustling you for a buck. In fact, if you wanted any type of service you had to go looking for it yourself. Even in the restaurants, you had to get up to tell the waiter you were ready to order or wanted the check. Some people refer to the Laos people as “lazy”, but I think they just relax and take life at a slower pace. I was immediately drawn to the vibe and knew that it was going to be an enjoyable, slow paced month of travel….a much needed time to chill out after Cambodia and Vietnam.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">In Vientiane, we all found a dorm room for really cheap. I had not stayed in a dorm room since Australia so it was kind of fun for a change. Ah…the dorm life. You meet so many interesting characters when you stay in a dorm. This particular room had 18 beds in it. To my left I had the new age hippie girls who had dreadlocks, hairy armpits and nose piercings, but all of the latest technology like cell phones and iPods. They had these banjos and musical instruments that they would spend hours tuning and talking about playing, but never actually played them. To my right I had the Nigerian who would dress in a suit everyday and stroll around town. He would also talk on his cell phone in a very loud voice at all hours of the night. Then we had the Chinese, who we nicknamed “plastic bag man” because he wrapped everything he had into little plastic bags and felt the need of wrapping and un-wrapping them all the time. Word of advice….if you stay in a dorm, avoid plastic bags as they can be really annoying. Then there was this other Asian guy who had his bicycle and had cycled through 35 countries already. And let us not forget the crazy Australian man who looked to be in his 70s. He would sit on the balcony next to the no smoking sign and puff on marijuana joints 24 hours a day. Tons and tons of characters…..</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">One day I went to go visit the COPElaos rehabilitation center. It is an organization to help Laos victims that have been injured by UXOs (Unexploded ordinances) from nearly 100 years of warfare. During the Vietnam War, there was a “secret war” that took place in Laos. There were strict regulations on where the Americans could drop bombs in Vietnam, but there were no regulations in Laos. To demolish supply routes and combat Viet Cong in the Laos territory, the Americans bombed the hell out of Laos. In fact, Laos is the most heavily bombed country in the world! Unfortunately, the American public would not be aware of this until many years after the Vietnam War. So many bombs were dropped that it is said that spanning 9 years, a plane would drop bombs every 8 minutes. Of all the bombs dropped, one-third did not explode. This has made for a very messy situation. The bombs have made much of the land unusable for crop growing, and to subsidize their income, villagers now collect scrap metal from the UXOs to sell on the black market. Each year, there are many deaths and injuries due to the UXOs detonating when tampered with. Most of the injuries happen to small kids who are curious about the foreign metal objects stuck in the mud. It is really sad because even though the wars are over…Loatians still live with the atrocities of the aftermath…much like the Agent Orange in Vietnam. The rehabilitation center is a place for victims to go and get wheelchairs or prosthetics made for them and to spread awareness to villages about how dangerous the UXOs are. I watched an amazing documentary called “Bomb Harvest” which won a few awards. If you get a chance you should check it out to get a better understanding of the situation over here. Also, if you are looking for an organization to support and maybe donate money to this holiday season, COPELaos is legitimate and I truly believe they are making a lot of progress to spread awareness, help victims, and deal with the undetonated bombs still in the country. </span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">In Laos, there is a government run curfew each night for 11:30pm. All bars and restaurants close at that time and you must return back to your guesthouse. But the curfew doesn´t stop locals from enjoying Beerlao and one of their favorite activities…bowling. We decided to hit up the local bowling alley one night. It was absolutely hilarious….they blare western hip-hop music, drink beerlao, and bowl for hours. I forgot to bring socks, so when we arrived; I had to buy a pair of socks at the alley. Once again, I was reminded how big I was compared to Asian people. The socks barely fit around my feet. In fact, I had to cut the ankle part so that it did not cut off my circulation. Ahh……the joys of being a fat American in an Asian country.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">After Vientiane we headed North. There is this infamous party town in Laos called Vang Vieng. It is world famous for its tubing. You rent these tubes and go down the river and the locals throw a rope to you and pull you into their bar. I have met a few travelers along the way who said it was the most amazing week of partying they have had....and that the town changed their lives. I have done my fair share of partying in my days and was pretty sure this place was not going to change my life....but why not check it out for a few days, right? The busride was only a short 3 hours. This peculiar guy sat next to Belinda. I think he had a really bad case of ticks and possibly teret syndrome. He was constantly making weird noises and doing these hand motions all over the place. I thought to myself how difficult it would be to travel alone with a problem like that. As we arrived into Vang Vieng, he got up and stormed to the driver....all of a sudden he began yelling histerically " Let me off this fucking bus you fucking crazy people...I know you are trying to kill all of us. I know what you are up to. Let me off this bus. FUCKKKKK.I am going to the police...I know you are trying to kill me. Let me fucking off NOW!" The bus stopped and he got off and started walking calmly down the street. I was in shock at the situation...I had no idea what this guy was about to do. Clearly he had major issues going on and even though I sympathize that he has a disorder, he probably should not be traveling alone. I was really glad he was not on the 24 hour busride...that would have been interesting.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">The town of Vang Vieng was this weird vortex of tubing, partying, and re-runs of Family Guy, Simpons, and Friends. It seriously felt like going to a circus on hallucinogenic drugs. Because of the government curfew, everyone partied by day and slept at night. Apparently, about 15 years ago it was a famous town for foreigners to come visit, get high on Opium and chill out for weeks. There was even a spread in National Geographic about this lush "off the beaten path" chill-out town. However, once the government cracked down on the drug use, the town had to find another way to make a living....so they turned their market towards partying and tubing for young backpackers. After a few days though, I started to see how the whole town really worked. When you get to a bar or restaurant, they will hand you 2 menus. One is the food menu and the other is a drug menu. You can get "happy" pizza or shakes, opium, marijuana, or mushrooms. I am not big into the drug scene, but if you were...then this place would be heaven. Then the bars choose between playing re-runs of Family Guy or Friends. And you then sit for hours vegging out at the TV. Some of the bars have negotiations with the police and pay them a certain amount of money each month to stay open past curfew. If the owners think the police are nearby, they will pick up the drug menus and stop dealing....However, if a policeman catches you smoking a joint or doing drugs of some sort, you can either pay them $500 out of pocket, or go to jail. There is a little bit of corruption going on. The tubing is even crazier....it is like tubing in the Guadalupe but on steroids. The bars on the side of the river are insane....with mud wrestling pits and colossal rope swings. I stuck to drinking the booze and hung out on the sidelines in awe of the craziness happening around me. All I could think about was how easy it would be to get seriously hurt.
<br /></span></p><p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">There are foreigners chilling in this town for competitions on duration. For instance, there is this guy named Trent who has been tubing for 265 days straight. His goal is to do it for a full year....tube everyday for 1 full year!!!!!!!! I couldn't even imagine. Then we met this girl named Becky who had been tubing everyday for 80 days. I mean, don't get me wrong....the tubing was a blast and this town is a party haven, but to stay there for that long did not make sense to me.</span></p><p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">After a few days in town we had met so many people and had our local hangouts. I would walk down the street saying hi to new friends and I felt this weird acceptance. If it was this easy to fit in....then I could begin to see how it may be hard to leave for some people. I would walk into bars and the owners would come up and put there arm around my shoulder to say hello....we were getting free drinks and hanging with locals. I knew it was time to leave before it got too comfortable. Vang Vieng is a wild town...not like anything I have ever seen. I am glad we checked it out and I had a blast, but it was time to move on....
<br /></span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">We decided to continue up north to get back into the culture and Laos life. We headed to Luang Prabang, the enchanting city that is under UNESCO World Heritage for helping to preserve the culture. The town is beautiful. It is filled with french colonial buildings, temples, and the Mekong River. There are 1000s of monks walking around each day. At night, there is this night market that sells textiles and goods from the nearby villages. There are food stalls at every corner and you can eat like a king for only a few dollars a day. I spent my days here strolling the streets, visiting nearby waterfalls, and riding bicycles. It is such a pictruesque city and I am glad that it is under the UNESCO World Heritage. This means that they are doing what they can to preserve the culture, architecture, and local traditions. There are regulations on the amount of cars and trucks in the area and building styles etc. So much changes in underdeveloped countries when tourism is introduced, that I think it is good that they are working to keep the charm of the city intact. One day I was walking through a Wat...or temple...and noticed a group of young monks working on cutting some wood. The monks must have been around 12 years old. I was trying to find a particular building and decided to see if the monks could help. I had no idea what the etiquette was in talking to monks...I knew that I was not allowed to touch them, but I figured it was ok to ask for directions. I walked over and pointed on the map and asked in English where the building was. All the boys were kind of giggly and tried there best to help me. We exchanged a few words but I felt funny so I didn´t pry to much in the situation. As I was walking off...I had to laugh...they seemed like ordinary 12 year old kids to me, but they were monks! It is a normal thing for men to join the monkhood for a period in their lives. Some do it for only a few months, while others dedicate their lives to it. During the rainy season (when there is not much work in the fields), families will send their kids to be monks for a few months because they will get educated and fed well. It is rainy season now...so the temples were filled with them. I have tried to take some pics of the monks and there are a few photos on Picasa.
<br /></span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">After days of wandering around the world heritage city, we hopped in a minivan that would take us to a town called Luang Namtha 9 hours away. It was another interesting transport experience. After about an hour we had a flat tire. The driver fixed the tire and Laura mentioned how now we had no spares left. I thought to myself that the chances of another blow-out was extremely low. Well...it wasn´t 1 hour later that all of a sudden I heard this loud pop and then the van started rolling unevenly. Conveniently, we had the blow-out right next to a tire store. I truly think that the tire store set up booby traps for passing cars to create business for themselves. It was all just to perfect of an accident. We sat in the town for 2 hours while they worked on the tire and waited for some part. Finally, we were on the road again. Driving through the small villages was a sight to see. When it is raining, naked kids play and splash in puddles everywhere, men fish off the side of bridges, woman nurse their babies while selling vegetables on the side of the road. You see the daily village life while looking outside the windows while traveling. A few hours later we were flying through a village and there were all of these kids on the side of the road waving to us...all of a sudden a dog jumped out into the road. The driver tried to miss it, but there was no way around it. Thump Thump and then a howl beneath our feet. We totally hit and killed a dog in front of about 20 village kids. I was mortified.....it was awful! We kept on driving.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">Luang Namtha is a northern town known for its trekking and rafting tours. I was interested in doing a trek into the hill tribe villages to see what their culture and life was all about. Our first day in town, Belinda had this great idea to rent motorbikes. It was only $4 to rent a bike for 1 day. I had been avoiding renting a bike because of my segway accident a few years ago. I just don´t have the confidence on things like that. Belinda assured me that it was super easy and a total blast. We went to the rental place and the lady asked me how much experience I had. I told her I had never driven a motorbike in my life...and did not know how to drive manual either. You think that would be a clear sign not to rent to bike to me, but instead, the lady just smiled and said "I teach you". Next thing I knew, I was on this bike going down her driveway wobbling from side to side. I really didn´t feel comfortable, but Belinda kept telling me that it gets easier the faster that you go. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">FINE....I decided to just do it. There was not a lot of traffic in town and I was just going to take it easy. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">Well Belinda was right. After a few minutes, I built up my confidence and was having a total blast on the bike. We cruised through all the town streets then went and visited temples and villages outside of town. I have totally been missing out on not renting bikes before. It is much easier then driving a segway. At the end of the day, we had gotten pretty far out of town and needed to head back before sunset. Belinda turned her bike around, but then all of a sudden her handle bar got stuck and she lost control and crashed straight into the ditch. She flew off the bike into the side of the hill. It all happend so fast and I was so worried that she was hurt. I ran over to see if she was ok. She popped up and said she was fine and was more concerned about her bike. She couldn´t afford any major damages. I knew that she was in a bit of shock, but at least she wasn´t too hurt. The bike was mostly ok except the basket was banged in pretty good. Once we knew the bike was ok and that she wasn´t hurt badly, we both started laughing histerically. It was one of those laughs like...holy shit...that could have been real bad. Belinda was wearing this one-piece demin outfit where the shorts and shirt are all connected. We call these "onesies". I kept replaying her accident in my head and seeing her fly off the bike in her onesy. That is when I nicknamed her "Super Onesy". THANK GOD she was ok!!!! After the accident we went back to the hotel and woke Laura up from her nap to help us make-shift the basket back to the way it was. We got it back to almost normal and they didn´t notice anything when we returned it.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">The following day, Laura and I set off for a 2 day trek to visit local hill tribe villages. Belinda stayed behind because she didn´t have any hiking gear. We were joined on the trek with a french gay couple. When I first introduced myself I asked them what their names were. In thick french accents they told me their names. I had NO IDEA what they said. In my head I was like"yeahhh...no idea what they just said...not even going to try". After a little while though, I finally asked them to write their names down for me since I am more of a visual learner. They were Fred and Oliver....hahahah...just goes to show how thick the accent was that I couldn´t figure out those simple names. They were a very nice couple and since Laura knows french she was able to translate conversations between us. </span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">It is the rainy season now so the trek was extremely muddy. We slipped and fell down paths and stepped in mud that covered our shoes. Another downfall to the rainy season was leeches. I felt a few on my legs and would try to get them off. At the end of the day when I took my pants off, I had leech marks all over my legs.....soooo gross!</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">The hike was a very unique experience. The hill tribe that we visited was named Lanten. The villagers are very poor and they spend their days harvesting and growing crops, raising farm animals, and maintaning the village. There is no electricity and they bathe and drink water from the river. I took this time to ask questions to our guide, Ef, about the villages and the Laos government. The villages used to burn down forests to grow crops and then after the season was over, move to another area and repeat the cycle. The government finally cracked down for environmental reasons and now give the villages a small sum of money so they do not move around so frequently.
<br /></span></p><p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">As for the government, I think Laos is similar to Vietnam in that they are called Communist countries but that it is merely a title and free market situations exist. In the reading I have done, Laos receives a huge amount of financial aid from other countries including the US. Without this aid, they would be one of the poorest countries in the world. To try and help the country from the inside out, the government began introducing free markets so that they can improve and compete with the rest of the world. I have really tried to read books about the wars, governments, and histories of the countries I have visited....trying to better understand it all. Eventually, the communist governments seem to turn back to free markets in order to give the people a better quality of life. At least that is the conclusion that I have come to at this point...I still have much research and learning to do.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">Fred and Oliver had done a lot of traveling and been to many villages in Nepal and Burma. Oliver brought balloons for the kids and crayons and paper to draw and interact with them. I was told not to bring things to the villages so that the kids don´t have expectations from foreigners. Tour companies suggest bringing toothpaste or pens for school. However, whether we are supposed to or not, they LOOOVVVEED the balloons. All the kids came running out of their huts waiting to get a balloon. I have tons of pics of the kids on Picasa that you can check out. Most of the kids are naked or wearing really torn clothes so keep that in mind when viewing the pics.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">We learned about the rituals with coming of age, marriage, and village leaders. I tried to ask the guide as many questions I could think of....I was just fascinated with the basic lifestyle. In all of my travels, the one thing that has been the most apparent is that we are all still human. No matter how much money you have, your education, your religion, or government.....we all still laugh, cry, love, hurt, want, and need. For me, this village was one of the closest things that I have seen where they spend each hour of the day getting their basic needs met...Food, Water, Shelter. It is so different then the life I live back home. We have so much time on our hands that we create activities and material goods to satisfy us. We struggle with obesity, stress, depression....This village doesn´t even have electricity!</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">Ef lived back in the city. He was better off then the villagers, but still did not make much money. I think he said that he makes a few $1000 a year. It felt weird when he asked me how much my camera cost and I told him it was $400 because that is a huge part of his annual income. Ef also asked me a lot of questions. He wanted to know what it felt like to fly in a plane, see snow, and be able to travel between different countries. He explained to me that I am able to visit his country, but that he would never be able to come to the US. You could tell that Ef understood the world a little more then the villagers did. His job was to be a tour guide to foreigners who flash money around like it is paper. Meanwhile, he tries to work enough to afford school and english classes and still lives at home with his family at 25 years of age. It is always hard to talk to locals when they start to compare their lives to yours. I do not have a lot of money for an American...but in Laos I am extremely wealthy.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">My time in Laos has been interesting and entertaining. Everyday it seems something interesting happends. On a different note though, there are some things happening back at home that I am missing. My dad´s fiance has just been diagnosed with breast cancer. I had prepared myself to miss good things, like weddings, birthdays, and my nieces growing, etc....but I didn´t prepare myself to miss situations like this. The hard thing with travel is you are away from family and home. I wish I could give Jatana a big hug and let her know I am thinking about her.</span></p> <p style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";" lang="EN-US">I have a few more days in Laos and then I part my ways from Belinda and Laura. My friend Jeremy is meeting me in the Philippines for a 2 week "holiday". </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">After that, back to flying solo ...........</span></p><span style="" lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span> Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-34416060055530120372009-07-20T00:48:00.000-07:002009-07-20T02:54:09.009-07:00Mot, Hai, Ba.....YO!!!!!!After getting clothes tailor made and stomaching the amount of money we spent on uneccesary items, we decided to continue up north to a town called Hue. Hue used to be the capital of Vietnam and is famous for its "Imperial City". I'll admit, I did not take the time to really research the city and history of everything. Sometimes your mind just needs a break. I ended up just walking around and enjoying all of the old buildings and asian architecture. A lot of the Imperial city was damaged by natural disasters and war, but they are working hard to rebuild it. It is pretty fascinating to view the intricate designs and bold colors. I can only imagine what the city looked like at its prime. Perhaps I will come back to visit in 10 years when everything is rebuilt again.<br />Our last night in Hue, we decided to have a couple of cocktails. I have to be careful not to go out too often because of my budget, but every few weeks we have a "party" night. We moved from one bar to the next. I was really on a mission to have a good chat with other travelers. Since we don't go out too often sometimes you don't meet as many people. Especially since I have been traveling with Laura, I don't go out of my way to socialize as much as I do when I am alone.<br />I started chatting with this Indian guy named Sumit. He lives in England and was traveling with 4 other Brits. Laura was getting tired (or as I say....wussing out!) and wanted to go home. I was just getting on a roll for the night. I asked Sumit if I could tag along with them. Our hotels were in the same area so it was safer for me. We ended up finding this one bar with a pool table. We asked the locals what time it closed...they said as long as we were buying beer and betting on pool with them, we could stay there as long as we wanted. After rounds of pool, drinks, and deep conversations about how our generation needs to make the changes to better the world, the sun was starting to rise. I could not believe I was still awake....I thanked the British boys for the nice chat and drinks and headed back to my room.<br />Back in Cambodia, we met an American couple from Idaho (Katie and Andy). They were on the same route as we were so we ran into them often. We all decided to hire a boat together in Halong Bay.In order to meet up with them in time,Laura and I needed to catch an overnight bus to Hanoi. Until now, we had not done a proper overnight bus. I did them a lot in South America and had gotten used to them. But I would soon learn that overnight busses in Asia are a little different then the busses in South America. We got to the bus station and saw a bus with tons and tons of Vietnamese people pushing to get on. There are no queues here or any form of standing in line. The asians are so little and they just push by you and squeeze around everything to get where they need to go...kinda like little ants. I finally got onto the bus and the driver handed me a plastic bag to put my shoes in. You cannot wear shoes anywhere near where people sleep. As I looked around the bus to find a seat I noticed that there were none left. My ticket did not have a seat number. It was complete chaos...I finally got my shoes back and stepped off the bus. There were about 5 other foreigners that did not get on as well. Clearly, the neanderthal white people were not the quickest ones onto the bus. The driver told us there would be another bus shortly that we could get on. I am kind of glad we didn't get on the bus because as I looked more closely, I realized that half of the front window and door was ducked taped together.<br />The next bus came and we were all able to get on. The bus has 3 rows of these things that they call beds. It is only a bed if you are shorter then 5 foot 5. If you are a tall person then it is very uncomfortable. All of the single beds were taken except for the very back of the bus. There were 5 beds together in the very back where the A/C was not working. Laura and I threw our bags over and jumped in. I was laughing histerically because all of these kids were running around with face masks and vietnammese music was blaring...it was one of those "What the F is going on" moments!<br />No one else came on the bus so it appeared that we were going to have the 5 beds all to ourselves...which we were excited about. But at the last minute, 3 foreign guys jumped on and headed to the back. They were 3 Irish lads named Ollie, Eoin, and Patrick. Patrick and me were stuck in the middle beds. He jokingly leaned his hand over and introduced himself. We were literally laying so close to each other as if we had known each other for ages. They were very tight quarters. The Irish boys were a good crack and we strategically placed our bodies around each other so we could play a few rounds of cards. After a little while we all decided to lay in the beds and try to get some rest. Patrick and I continued chatting while everyone else drifted asleep. He was a very cute guy who is a teacher back in Ireland. We got to know each other while chatting for a few hours. We joked back and forth about how we all 5 had to spoon in one direction in order to fit on the beds. Then we would all have to switch over to spoon the other direction every so often. The beds were not made for 5 foreigners. I am not sure if it was the tight space, the daunting sticky heat, or the 12 hour bus ride....but you could feel the attraction between Patrick and I as we laid close to each other chatting. I have met plenty of people while traveling but it is not so easy to meet guys since you move around so much. I am not interested in the party hook up travel circuit either, which so many people get involved in. It would be nice to meet someone genuine, but it is not that easy with this type of unpredictable lifestyle. Anyways...the whole point of my schpeil is that it was nice to have a good chat with this guy for a few hours. Even though we had only just met...we ended up having a good cuddle session on the cramped, hot bus. It made my bus ride a lot more enjoyable then it could have been. I will probably never see Patrick again, but it was fun :) Next time I take an overnight bus I will request a cute Irish talkative lad to sit next to me..HA!<br />Our bus arrived to Hanoi which is the capital city. However, we needed to get to Cat Ba Island about 5 hours away so we could meet up with the Americans to get on our boat. When we got off the overnight bus, a rush of motorbike locals came up yelling for us to get on. It is always overwhelming when you have been on a bus for hours and then have to deal with the chaos of a new city. We negotiated a price for these 2 guys to take us to another bus station. 30,000 dong...which was way more then we needed to pay, but sometimes you don't feel like fighting the scams. The drivers then took us to a completely different bus and tried to get us to go to a different city. Hanoi is known for this type of scam where they convince you that this is the correct bus just so you pay money to their friends, etc. I had prepared myself for this scam and was not going to fall for it. I jumped off the bike and told the guy he took us to the wrong place and I didn't want to ride with him anymore. I still gave him the money because I didn't want to deal with him. I gave him 50,000 dong and asked him for 20,000 back. He pretended to ignore me and started his bike again. Meanwhile, another guy came over and grabbed my bag and tried to stick it on the bus. It was all happening so fast. I can normally keep my cool, but they are now trying to steal money from me and grabbing my stuff. I started yelling at them to leave my bag alone and continued asking the driver for the change. I finally reached in his pocket and grabbed my money back. He grabbed my arm and I told him he was not getting any money unless he gave me my change back. At the same time I was kicking the other guy away from my bag and causing a minor scene on the street. The driver pulled out 10,000 dong....I said that wasnt enough. "give me fucking 20,000 change back mister or you get nothing from me". All the men started laughing and he finally gave me the change. I grabbed my bag and Laura and I told everyone to get away from us. Welcome to Hanoi....sheeesh!!! Fortunately, the place we needed to go to was not that far and we were able to walk. Another 5 hour busride and a 1 hour boat ride and we were on the island of Cat Ba. It was gorgeous. Cat Ba is the place where Vietnamese people come for holiday. It would be like Florida or Hawaii for us. We kinda forgot that it was summer and holiday break for the Vietnamese as well....so it was a madhouse on the Island. We had a tough time finding a place to stay and the prices were really jacked up. It was pretty cool, though, to see how the locals spend their vacation. They work hard all year and save money to bring their entire family to this island for a few days....they have a good time, too.<br />We met up with the Americans and finalized our plans for the boat. We were going to spend 2 days and 1 night on a private boat cruising through Halong Bay. The company we went through was Slo Pony...It is run by 3 American guys who specialize in rock climbing and boat tours. They take people to areas of the bay that are far from all the tourists. Most tour groups always say that, but this is one of the first times where they were telling the truth. The reason I mention their name as a company is because they were very helpful. Instead of trying to scam you or give you a bad deal (which often happens to foreigners over here), they were very upfront and honest about their services. I was intrigued as to how 3 Americans were running a business in a communist country. Oslo, one of the owners, explained that he could write a book about the loopholes they went through to have a business here. He said that you would be amazed how business and the government works in Vietnam. They were the first foreigners to ever live on Cat Ba. He said they had to live in Hotels for a year in a half before they were allowed to buy a house. One of the guys is married to a Vietnamese girl now, so I wonder how much that has helped their situation. I didn't ask many questions, but what they are doing has not been done too often here. And it sounds like a pretty interesting situation that they have with the government to run the shop.<br />Anyways, we met another couple from Spain and Germany who put money in on the boat as well....there were 6 of us. Early the next day we boarded the boat and set off to Halong Bay. It was pouring down rain, but it was still a sight to see. Limestone cliffs and rock formations are all around the bay and gives it a very mystical look. The first day we went kayaking. There are all these caves that go into private lagoons. There were hardly any other tourists around. One thing we noticed, were that there were a lot of jellyfish swimming around the lagoons. It was fun to look at them, but we sure as hell didn't want to get stung so we stayed in the kayaks. We spent the rest of the day eating, swimming, and chatting with each other. It was so chill and nice to relax after our hectic travel up there. At one point it was pouring down rain, but we all decided to swim out to this island. It was awesome being in the middle of Halong bay in a storm. We joked about jellyfish...I was seriously paranoid about them, but tried to keep my cool. Everyone else seemed so comfortable frolocking in the water, but I was constantly looking around me and making sure nothing came near. That night, Katie, Andy, Laura and I stayed up late drinking beer and chatting about our travels. Katie and Andy are from Idaho and have been on a 4 month trip. They only have 5 more days left of their trip. Katie is going back to school to be a scientist and Andy is going back to start medical school. It was nice to chat with 2 American travelers and compare stories. When it was really late we decided to go night swimming because you could see the phosflurescents...which is the glow of the algea swimming in the ocean. As we were about to get in, the captain came running over and said that there were a lot of jellyfish out that night. We decided to just stick a paddle in the water to see the glow...it was neat. I passed by the other couples room (they had gone to sleep a few hours before) and noticed that the light was still on. As I peered through the window I saw Chemma (the spanish guy) walking around blindfolded and Carina (the german girl) laying in bed watching him. I was like...WTF? are they doing in there? I seriously thought they were playing some sort of sex scharade game. We had a laugh outside about it because Katie and Andy had to share a room with them. They felt awkward going back in later that night. Well as it turns out, they were not playing a weird sex game, but instead they were sleeping with the lights on because there were so many cockroaches crawling all over the beds. Carina woke up to one in her hair and you could hear them crawling all over the sideboards. With the lights on they would stay hidden. They laughed so hard the next day when I told them that I thought they were getting all kinky on the boat.<br />The next day we continued to do more kayaking and swimming. We went deep into one cave and were surrounded by bats. The bat poo smelled awful, but it was pretty cool to be that deep into a cave. After that though, another round of nausea came over me. Ever since I have been sick in Cambodia I get these weird waves. Most of the time I can mentally convince myself that I am fine and it will pass, but for some reason it would not pass this day. I went back to the boat and layed down. Lunch was ready and I thought that maybe I was just hungry and not nauseas. I tried to eat, but as soon as I smelled the food I ran to the bathroom and vomitted. After that I was fine. I must have a weird parasite living in me because I have never thrown up this much before. After getting sick I was back to my old self again and continued hanging out on the boat. We decided to go for one last swim before we headed back to the island. We were all laying in the water and chatting it up. I joked how the ocean scared me because you never knew what was below...I was more of a lake girl myself. The water felt so nice and I would lay on my back and stare up at the sky....so relaxing. And then I felt it....this wave of burning fire stroked my right ass cheek and I instantly knew that I had been hit. "Oh my God...Oh my God...I've been hit. Seriously y'all....I am not joking...a jellyfish...Oh my God" I screamed this as I swam the fastest I have ever swam to the boat. I was out of the water in olympic time. Meanwhile, everyone in the water was freaking out because usually there are schools of jellyfish so they all grabbed the side of the boat and were hanging there paranoid. I climbed out but was so scared to look at the burn on my ass. For all I knew there could have still been a jellyfish hanging off of me. Chemma walked out of his room after he heard the commotion. I asked him to tell me how bad it was. "Yeah...you got stung" is all he said as he stared at it wide eyed. I started shaking because I was kinda freaking out and tears formed in my eyes. It burned bad, but on top off that I was so frustrated that it had been me who got stung. The one who was most paranoid. My voice quivered as I said "Why me....why did it have to be me". I looked down at everyone hanging off the boat and asked "So...which one of you is going to piss on me." No one replied. I sure as hell wasn't going to piss on myself. After my initial freak out and being upset that I was the one that got stung, my whole entire body started to itch really bad. It was at that point when I realized I knew nothing about jelly fish stings. Was my body about to go into cardiac arrest? Was I going to have temporary paralysis? What the hell happens to you? Chemma just looked at me and said "Well its been 5 minutes and you haven't died yet....so I think you will be ok". We headed back to the port. I sat up on top and tried to get my mind off of my burning ass. And the fact that it was on my ass pissed me off even more....of all the places! Anyways, I continued scratching my body and figured it was just the toxins circulating through my blood stream...no big deal. We arrived back to the Slo Pony shop about 1 hour later. I went up the Eric, another owner, and asked him how bad a jellyfish sting was. His first question he asked very seriously was "What color was the jellyfish?" None of us actually saw the it after it stung me...we had no idea what it looked like. "Does it matter what color it was?" I replied. Then he asked how long ago it had happened. I told him it had been an hour. "You got stung an hour ago and you are this coherent and talking to me right now?...Wow...that is pretty amazing. I think you will be ok." People react differently to the stings and it sounds like I was pretty lucky. He then told us a story about how his friend was rock climbing and fell off the cliff into the water. He came up with a jellyfish wrapped around his face. He layed on the rocks for 6 hours crying with agonizing pain. He ended up peeing in a cup and pouring it on his face. After I heard that story I was very thankful it stung me on my ass and that my reaction was minor.<br />It was Saturday night and the Vietnamese holiday was in full effect. We had not booked a hotel in advance. We asked Slo Pony if they could help us find accomodation. They said they had a few people they could call, but it was not likely they would find something...but they offered the couches in their office. Fortunetaly, one of the rooms they own in a hotel was open so they put us up there for the night for a really cheap price. As I mentioned before...these guys were super cool dudes. The room was pretty decent. It was your typical bachelor pad. A tiled artwork of a naked asian woman in the bathroom and dishevled furniture. But it was clean and a roof over our head. The AC unit was directly over where I was sleeping. Every now and then a drip would fall on me when I was sleeping, but it didn't bother me too bad. However, at about 3 am a rush of water came out of the unit onto my face like a waterfall. I woke up freaking out....."make it stop..make it stop". We were all disoriented and Katie found the remote to turn it off. I was soaking wet and so was the bed. I turned around and slept in the opposite corner in a ball. It just wasn't my day I suppose :)<br />The next day we made our journy back to Hanoi. We continued traveling with Katie and Andy and all decided to get a hotel room together to save on the costs. It was a sweet room with plenty of space, air con, and a flat screen tv. Hanoi is a crazy city...much crazier then Saigon in my opinion. A lot of people do not enjoy Vietnam because they feel that the people are pushy and in your face. If you started your travels in Vietnam up North in Hanoi, I could understand why you would start off on the wrong foot. I was not that impressed with the vibe in the city. I am thankful that we started traveling South and then up because we were able to see a better side of the country.<br />One night we all went out to dinner. In Vietnam they have these places called Bia Hois. It translates to Draught beer. Each day they make batches of this fresh draft beer and sell 1 glass for 3,000 dong. 18,000 dong equals a dollar so you can have 6 beers for 1 dollar. It is brilliant! Anyways, at dinner we were given a drink list. There were regular priced beers and then 2 items at the bottom for about 8,000 dong. We figured this was some of the local beer but that the prices were jacked up a bit since it was a proper restaurant. We ordered 2 of each of the "local beers". 5 minutes later the waitress walked out with 2 bottled waters and a plate of shredded beef. Wow...how cool... we thought. They give you free water and a snack before dinner. Well, it turns out we just didnt know what the hell we were ordering. We ordered water and shredded beef instead of beer....we had a good laugh over that.<br />The next day I ran into my old British friend Dave and some people that he had met. We all decided to go out to have a big dinner together. It was me and Laura, Katie and Andy, Dave, and french guy named Antione, and Brit named Chris, and a Belg named Jeremy. I always love the international dinners. Before dinner though, Andy and Katie wanted to have a few cheep beers and the Bia Hoi. It was there last day in Vietnam so we wanted to celebrate. I know it sounds like I have been drinking a lot in this blog, but seriously.....6 beers for $1. How can you pass that up? The beer started flowing, we all met up for dinner and then continued on to more Bia Hois after dinner with our big group of international travelers. We went on a Bia Hoi crawl from one street corner to the next. They are not proper bars by any means. It is simply a keg surrounded by small plastic chairs on the sidewalk. Very basic, very cheap, very amazing! Instead of saying cheers...in Vietnamese you say Mot, Hai, Ba....YO! and clank your drinks together. It was a fun night!<br />Well today is our last day in Vietnam. Dave, Laura and I all crossed from Cambodia to Vietnam so we decided to cross together to Laos. All of the sleeper buses were booked for days so we bought tickets for a "sitting" bus. It is going to be a 24 hour long bus ride to cross the border and we will be sitting the whole time. It is going to be one hell of a busride. Ah well.....another epic journey to a new country. Vietnam has been awesome.....I have had some really cool experiences here. Goodbye Vietnam. Let's see what Laos has to offer :)Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-55633150227244149132009-07-10T09:12:00.000-07:002009-07-11T00:34:36.821-07:00Hit the road, Jack!<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> 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</style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Normale Tabelle"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0cm; mso-para-margin-right:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Before I start anything, I just want to say that Vietnam is awesome. I love this country and it has made my list of top places I have visited. Every traveler will tell you that your experience in a country depends on a lot of factors. Some people may have an amazing time somewhere while others would never go back to visit. The experiences you have, the people you meet, your health, the weather, and the cultural connection can all play a big part in how you perceive a place. After a few weeks of health problems and coping with a round of homesickness, I hoped that something would shift in my surroundings to give me a zest of refreshment and motivation to get my travel mojo back. </span>Well...I am back!<span style="" lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:hyphenationzone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>DE</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> 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mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="" lang="EN-US">While in Saigon, Dave, Laura, and I signed up for a half day tour to visit the war tunnels outside of town. We loaded onto a bus with about 10 other tourists. Our tour guide was named Joey, or at least that was the name he told us to call him. He had a microphone at the front of the bus and as soon as we were all seated he started explaining how he got the name Joey. He said that he had befriended an Australian ex-pat and they hung out a lot. The ex-pat called him Joey like the kangaroo. They got to know each other well and the ex-pat was going to try to get him into Australia to live. However, he ended up dying in a car accident….and Joey never got to Australia. His dream of starting a life there was shattered. The entire bus was silent after his introductory story. We weren’t sure why he had just told us that and what type of response he was wanting. Shortly after the story, Joey tried to liven up the group by telling jokes. I am not sure if it had something to do with the language or cultural barrier, but Joey did not have the concept of political correctness. Let’s just say, if you were black, gay, America, or catholic, you would have been offended. After calling Obama a “chocolate baby” and gay men “3 dollar bills” we started looking around each other wondering what type of tour we had signed up for. After he got out all of his bad jokes though, Joey ended up being pretty informative and I learned a lot about the war that day.<o:p></o:p></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">During the war against the French, the hill tribes and Vietnamese created tunnel systems throughout certain regions of the county. These tunnels were so intricate and certain areas were 3 levels deep. They included full-on living areas, breathing holes, watering wells, and booby traps. Some of the systems went on for miles and miles. During the “American War” the US soldiers would build camps over the tunnels without having a clue what was below them. In the middle of the night, VC would come out of hidden trap doors and ambush soldiers and then retreat back into the tunnels without leaving a trace behind. It took a very long time for the US Soldiers to realize what they were up against. Once they were aware of the tunnel systems, they did whatever they could to figure out where the hidden doors were located.<span style=""> </span>Dogs were used to sniff out the area. However, the VC would steal American soap and other items and place them around the breathing holes. This way the dogs could not identify a foreign smell. Sometimes the American soldiers would find an entrance, but most often their bodies were too big to make it past the first level or they would get caught in a booby trap. Keep in mind, the tunnels were most often without electricity. The VC knew the systems by the back of their hands and even though it was dark, they would navigate around the booby traps. At the tunnel site, there was an area that had been cleared of any traps to allow tourists to crawl through. It was a 700 meter long tunnel and they actually made it slightly bigger to accommodate the western sized bodies. As soon as I entered a wave of heat hit me. I managed to bend my back over my knees and walked through most of it. Certain areas I had to get on all fours to get through. However, my shoulders rubbed against the ceiling and it was extremely tight fitting. If you were any bigger than me then it would have been difficult to fit through. After about 2 minutes of being in the tunnel I got a little claustrophobic. I knew as long as I kept moving I would reach the end, but there was no way that I was comfortable being down there. Sweat was dripping down my back and all I could think about was how the villagers and VC would stay in these tunnels for months at a time. They built weapons, devised strategies, cooked, slept, had babies, and raised families in these tunnels and here I was about to faint from crawling through 700 meters for 5 minutes. When we finally reached the end of the tunnel I ran out grasping the fresh air and wiping the sweaty mud off my body. This Taiwanese girl came out behind me and said in a gasping voice “No wonder they won”….I had to agree with her. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">After Saigon, we decided to catch a bus to a town called Dalat. It is the gateway town into the Central Highlands. Most tourists follow up the coast line of the country, but I had heard that the highlands were a good alternative if you wanted to get off the beaten path. Dalat was a really nice town. When the French colonized, a lot of them would live in this area because it has the best weather in all of Vietnam. Throughout the year it ranges from 60-80 degrees, which is much cooler than the rest of the country. Because of the weather, they grow an abundant amount of fruit, vegetables, and flowers. It is also decent for grapes, so it is the town where the only Vietnamese wine comes from.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">I had heard that there were these motorcycle groups in the highlands that would take you around on day tours. They were called the “Easy Riders”. <span style=""> </span>After walking around the town for a bit, Laura and I stopped at a tourist office to inquire about it. We just wanted to see the countryside of the town and figured the best way to do it was by bike. We jumped on the back of these guys bikes and headed out for a day tour. Our first stop was a flower farm where we saw rows and rows of beautiful flowers. Each day they are trimmed and taken all over the country to be sold in the markets. Next stop was a coffee farm. Apparently, Vietnam is the 2<sup>nd</sup> largest export of coffee behind Brazil (this is according to my guide). Most of it goes to China and Japan and surrounding countries. I have really enjoyed the coffee here; it almost has a rich mocha taste to it. After that, we went to a Buddhist temple where I saw the most amazing “Happy Buddha”! Happy Buddha´s are the ones that have the big fat bellies. That type of Buddha comes from China, but there is a lot of Chinese influence in Vietnam being that they are neighbors and have fought many wars against each other. The Buddha was huge and baby blue. I have pictures on my picasa so you can see the magnitude of it. Behind its head were circles of neon lights. At night they are glowing all different colors behind his head – I would have loved to have seen that. We also went to a silk factory which was fascinating. I saw the entire process of the seeing the silk worm from the mulberry tree all the way to the weaving machines. Our guides then took us to a local´s house that distilled rice wine and grew mushrooms. It was such a jam packed day and we learned so much about the area. After the tour, our guide Vinh, told us about how we could hire them to take us through the Central Highlands on a 5 day tour through the Ho Chi Ming Trail (the rode built to carry military supplies to the VC). For whatever reason, Laura and I looked at each other and agreed that it was something we should do. I figured it would be a great chance to learn about the country, government, and lifestyles of the people. I was a little bit weary though, because I had not gone a solid 5 days without some sort of stomach issue. Laura had a stomach of steal, but I frequented the bathroom a lot. I rubbed my belly and asked her to be good for the motorcycle trip.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">The next morning Vinh and the other driver Cho picked us up. We tied our luggage to the back, strapped on our helmets, grabbed our crotches and spit on the ground….I felt like a renegade! As we meandered out of town I leaned forward and asked Vinh if he had actually ever seen the movie “Easy Rider”. He said “Yes...Hit the Road, Jack!” (In a thick Vietnamese accent). <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">One of our first stops on the tour was a villager who made rice paper. The process was similar to the rice paper that I saw being made in Cambodia except that they put roasted sesame seeds into the rice paste. The family that we visited was so precious. This old man had a permanent indention on the bottom of his lip where a lit cigarette rested. He stirred the rice paste and scooped it up, placed it on a hot stove top like a crepe and then covered it. After about 20 seconds he would lift the top off, and pull up the circular shape off and place it on a bamboo tray to dry. He did this about 5 times in a row while staring at me and speaking Vietnamese. He was explaining the whole process to me as if I could understand his language. His wife walked onto the porch where we were standing and brought us the finished product. After the paper dries, they roast the paper over a fire and it forms this crunchy type rice cake. You break it apart and dip it into soy sauce for a snack. As I was trying some of it, the older woman walked up to me and stared into my eyes deeply. She then started rattling off in Vietnamese and kept looking at me. I wasn´t sure what was going on, but it appeared that she was saying something meaningful. “What is she saying….Vinh, what is she saying to me” I asked as if I was missing some really important information from this wise old woman. “She asked if you had been here before…because you white people, you all look the same to her. She can´t tell one person from the next.” Vinh and the older couple laughed about her comment. I had to chuckle to myself, too. There was a point in my life where I thought that all Asians looked the same as well. The old man let me and Laura try to make rice paper. Mine did not turn out to good and had a big circle in the middle like a donut. Laura´s was perfect, but I think it is because she lives in France and makes crepes. Afterwards, the old man said that he would hire Laura to make rice paper and I was reduced to feeding the pigs at the back of the house. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Our first night we arrived to a hill tribe village. They are the tribes that lived in the hills way before the Vietnamese arrived to the area. Nowadays, the government designated land for them and gives them a small sum of money to keep the village running with electricity and water. The village was filled with long houses and we were to stay in a family’s home for the night. Pigs, chickens, oxen, cattle, and an elephant roamed the streets. The villagers really didn´t pay us too much mind. There was no bathroom in the area that we were sleeping. It was at least a 10 minute walk to a toilet facility at a family run restaurant down the road. As we went to bed that night, Laura and I joked about how crappy it would be if one of us got diarrhea in the middle of the night since there was no toilet and we were unfamiliar with the area. Unfortunately, Laura did end up getting sick. Poor girl got up to walk outside and get some fresh air, but ended up clothes lining herself with one of the mosquito nets draped across the room. Once she made it outside she had to try and find an area to use the bathroom where she wouldn´t have a pig or oxen sneak up on her. It was a rough night for her. (Finally, it wasn´t me who had to use the bathroom!)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">The following day, Vinh informed me that I would be changing drivers. Apparently, 2 other foreigners were interested in a Mekong Delta tour which Vinh specialized in. His brother, Chan, would be my new driver. Chan was a 25 year old single guy who was 4 foot 11 inches and probably weighed 100 lbs. I was HUGE compared to him. When I first met Chan, both he and Vinh told me that I looked like their cousin. I thought that was interesting considering I look nothing like a Vietnamese person. Chan was a lot more outgoing then Vinh, but his English was not as clear. He drove well though, and that was the most important to me. Chan and Cho often called us “Happy Buddhas” and would pat our bellies. Normally, I would be a little offended, but everyone looked fat compared to Chan.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Riding on the motorcycle with the wind in your face was exhilarating. We cruised through the mountains and passed small villages. We would stop at little food stalls to have coffee, sugarcane, or tea. The people would run to the road and wave to us as we drove by. Most everyone had a smile on their faces even as they worked diligently in the rice fields. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">On the second day we stopped at a petrol station to fill up. Laura and I were stretching out our “monkey bums” as the drivers called it. We went to get back on our bikes. Laura swung her leg over her bag to the other side and heard a big rip. Turns out she ripped a huge hole in the crotch of her pants all the way down her leg. It was so funny too because this day involved a lot of hiking. She was so embarrassed about the hole that she wrapped her sarong around her pants. It was so deadly hot outside and she had all these layers on trying to hike up these hills and down these waterfalls. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">For lunch each day we would stop at these local restaurants. Our drivers would order a little bit of everything on the menu for us to try. It was really neat because there was no way I would have the guts to order this type of food or even know how to order it. We ate pork, beef, chicken, fish, and all sorts of vegetable platters. The food was delicious. It was so interesting to see the different eating styles. For instance, when Chan and Cho ate fish, they would shove the entire piece in their mouth and then spit out the skin and bones onto their plate. I would meticulously pick the bones out of my fish before I put the piece in my mouth. Every time I ate something, I would rub my Buddha belly and ask her to cooperate. Somehow, it seemed to work. For once, I was eating street food and drinking ice but my stomach was doing well. Laura on the other hand, was not doing so hot. I gave her some of my Immodium and told her that should stop the bathroom issue for the rest of the trip.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">The third day was our longest distance of travel. We had to ride 260 km. This may not seem that long but the bikes can only go 40k in the cities and 60k on the highways. We made plenty of stops to give our bums a rest. In the afternoon we stopped at this beautiful lake which had an overlook. Laura and I walked to the viewpoint to take some photos. There were tons of Vietnamese tourists there. They all stared at us and pointed. We were getting a lot of attention in SE Asia for being foreigners. Laura especially got attention because she is 6 feet tall with blue eyes. As we were looking out at the lake, a group of people came up to us and asked us to be in their family photo. They had a professional photographer and they all stood around us for the picture. As we walked back to the motorbikes, several other people came up and asked to have a photo taken with us. Most of the people came up to Laura´s elbow or bicep. I took a few photos as well because it was just so funny. I don´t think Laura found it as amusing.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">That night we ate another fabulous Vietnamese dinner. Laura and Cho were tired so they went back to the hotel while Chan and I walked around the city. I needed to get some supplies at the grocery store so he took me there. When I was browsing through the store I noticed how everyone was looking at me. I don´t think many tourists made it to this particular town and certainly don´t go to the supermarket very often. Before I knew it, I had about 7 kids following me around each aisle. When I would turn around they would run off laughing. Teenage kids would come up to me and ask me what my name was and where I was from. The Vietnamese are very well educated with a 90% literacy rate. They love to practice their English whenever they get a chance. I spent about 45 minutes in the store having small conversations with people and kids following me around. It was a little bit awkward, but interesting none the less.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">The next day they took us to an old airport strip that was used by the American Soldiers. Surrounding the airfield was land that was destroyed by Agent Orange. Many of the villagers that lived in and around this particular area suffered from horrible side effects from the toxins. A lot of the babies that are born have deformities. Still today, the land has not fully grown back, but each year more and more plants fill in the areas. When we were leaving the area, Chan was talking to me about the history. He said “my grandfather was a farmer in the central highlands when the war started. The center part of Vietnam was not really affiliated with the north or the south. However, it is where most of the battles took place. When the bombs started dropping around my grandfathers land he just started running to save himself. He ran for days trying to find safety. He didn´t understand the war or what was really happening. He was just trying to survive. Turns out he ran south. Because of the direction he ran, he ended up joining with the American soldiers. There were many Vietnamese and minority people who fought on sides without even knowing what they were fighting for. I think there were many American soldiers who didn´t know what they were fighting for as well. You and me, we are both young now. It is the older generation that had to deal with it. I like you now and you like me. I like Americans. I do not like the American Government, though. I don´t even like my own government. Who are these people that we call the Government? The Government is not fighting; it is the people that fight….but why? What do we fight for? A lot of people here believe in God. But God does not give me food to eat. I work and make money. Because of this I can eat every day. No, I do not believe in God and I do not know who the government is….the only person I can believe in is Myself. I know what I need to do to survive.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">It was one of those conversations that had me thinking the rest of the day. Here is a 25 year old guy living across the world from me, and he questions faith, government, and his own life. We are of the same generation who has troubled histories and government changes ahead of us. I wonder what life will be like for both me and Chan in 20 years. I think there are many people my age who have a lot of questions about the way things have been handled and I hope that the generations to follow continue to question and challenge and progress to a more peaceful world.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">During our tour I also wanted to take some time to understand the communist government of Vietnam. I have been raised to view communism as a negative thing, but it seemed to me like most people in Vietnam were happy. I asked Chan and Cho about their jobs, their rights, and their overall lifestyles. From what I saw and gathered from our conversations, Vietnam didn´t exactly seem like a communist government to me at all. People can move freely through the land, own property, and start their own business. They still had to pay for their own healthcare. Ever since Vietnam joined the World Trade Organization and tourism became a big industry, a more capitalistic mindset has taken effect. I was still confused by it all. I did some internet searching and read that Vietnam is still considered a communist government but that they have a controlled capitalistic society. I guess you can grab a piece of the pie, but if it gets too big then the government may step in for a slice.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Laura reiterated to me that it takes a lot of years for a government to stabilize and find that right balance to work well for its people. The “American War” was fought to unify the North and South of Vietnam under a communist government. However, once the war was won, there were some tough years ahead for Vietnam in getting everything in order. But now-a-days, it seems like things are working well. When I asked Chan if Vietnam was still a communist country, he told me no. He said things are much better now, and even if they call themselves a communist party, it is not the same as it was 15 years ago. I guess the easiest way for me to understand it all is if you look at a spectrum. One end is communism and the other end is capitalism. If you are 100% communist then you lose progression. If you are 100% capitalist then a lot of people will fall into the cracks and their opportunities of succeeding will drop drastically as the richer get richer. There has to be a balance of some sort. Vietnam is communist with a capitalistic edge…while America is capitalism with some social programs. Obviously, I have no background in Political Theology and this is simply the observations and questions that I have asked myself. It is interesting to me to travel to each country and see how their governments work for them….and the opinions of the local people.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">At one point in the ride, the chain on our bike broke. Chan pulled over to a mechanic shop to have a look at the damage. Laura and I sat down in some chairs and waited for them to fix it. This sweet woman came up to us. She was wearing gum boots and had the classic Vietnamese wooden hat on her had with a face mask on (tons of Asians where facemasks to not catch germs). She didn´t speak any English but came over and put her leg next to Laura´s and laughed. She was trying to emphasize how much bigger we were then her. I was holding my camera and she pointed at it. Then she pointed at herself. She stood up straight, removed her facemask, and gave me the biggest smile ever. I couldn´t believe she was asking me to take her picture….I stood up immediately and snapped a shot. I showed her the image and she laughed so hard, then grabbed her shovel and ran back to work. It was one of the coolest moments for me. She was a classic Vietnamese woman and I have been dying to get a good photo of a villager, but always feel awkward taking pictures of people. I will never forget that.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">On our last day of the tour, we stopped at a little shop for fresh pineapple and coffee. Chan asked us why Europeans eat each other’s faces when he sees them on TV. At first we were really confused by the question. Then we realized he was talking about kissing. Chan has never had a girlfriend before and I don´t think sexual activity is very common unless you are married. We just shrugged and said it was a type of affection that we use in our culture. It is pretty common for people to kiss each other if they are dating. Then he asked us what it tasted like?......I thought for a really long time about the question and just told him that someday he would find out. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Overall the motorcycle trip was amazing. It was one of the coolest 5 days of my trip. It was really a neat experience to hang out with 2 local guys and learn about the culture and lifestyle of the people. It gave me an opportunity to ask questions that I normally would not ask a random stranger. We tried interesting foods and drinks and drove through amazing scenery. I photographed most of the trip and wrote descriptions on Picasa so you could see the different places that we visited. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Now we are in Hoi An. This town is known for tailor made clothes. I have not been shopping much on my travels but decided it would be fun to get some things made. So far, I got a fitted coat, silk dress, 2 cotton dresses, a pair of shorts, and flip flops made. I have NO IDEA where I am going to put all of this stuff and I think I will have to ship it home. It has been a bit overwhelming trying to pick colors, fabrics, designs, etc. But it has been fun, too. So far Vietnam has been awesome. We have about 12 more days to travel up the coast to the northern areas. I am looking forward to it!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br />Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-13085819100819177962009-07-01T06:26:00.000-07:002009-07-01T06:44:52.832-07:00Goodbye Cambodia, Goodmorning, Vietnam!<meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOKUME%7E1%5CLaura%5CLOKALE%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:hyphenationzone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> 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mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0cm; mso-para-margin-right:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Since the last time I blogged, I have improved immensely. We rested for a few days in the town of Battambang where I spent most of my time in bed filling up on antibiotics and salt water. I have a few more countries that I will be visiting that pose high risks of getting sick….I hope to be better prepared next time around.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">After the recovery, we decided to head south and spend our last week of Cambodia on the beach.<span style=""> </span>On our way there, we stopped in a small town close to Lake Tonle Sap, the largest lake in Cambodia. There are numerous “floating villages” along this lake and we wanted to visit one of them. We researched and found a village called Kompong Luang. I am really glad we chose this village because we were the only foreigners there that day. We paid a local to take us around in his wooden boat through the village to see how the everyday life was. It was such an interesting sight to see….1000s of people literally live in these huts that float. There are gas stations, restaurants, cell phone stores, farm animals, electronic stores, and churches floating together. People either hop from one hut to the next or take long wooden boats to their destination. Locals cruise around all day in boats selling produce or meat. There were kids swimming with fish nets trying to catch food for their family to sell. It was a Vietnamese village (probably refugees from the war) and everyone was extremely friendly to us. We felt like celebrities because everywhere we went kids just ran to the porches to wave and practice their English. I couldn’t help but smile as we went past huts where the elder women grinned at us with teeth filled with gold or no teeth at all.<span style=""> </span>To me, it seemed like life would be so much more difficult to live like this on the water, but for them….it was all that they knew. Their livelihood was based around this lake…it is where they caught their food, and the water source for growing their produce and feeding their animals. During the changes of the rainy and dry seasons, they will take apart their homes and move them to rebuild where the lake level will remain for that season. Throughout the tour, I couldn’t help but notice how the huts were so open and there didn’t seem to be any privacy. We were able to peer into everyone’s homes as we passed by on the boat. I don’t remember seeing any mattresses for beds, only hammocks with people snoozing in them. Of course, my perverted and inquisitive mind couldn’t help but wonder the most obvious question of all – Where in the heck do these people have sex? Clearly they procreate as I saw kids of all ages EVERYWHERE, but I just couldn’t figure out where and when these people would “do it”. Yes I know, I am traveling the world and exploring other cultures and these are the types of things that I actually think about.<span style=""> </span>Perhaps it is not something so private like our society keeps it. Maybe the old man yells “Hey honey, why don’t you hop onto this hammock and give me some loving before the kids come back from fishing…don’t mind the boats passing by!” Who knows how they do it…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">After the floating village we hopped back on our tuk-tuk and headed back to our guesthouse. It was about an hour ride to where we needed to go. I was having one of my moments where I pondered, with my face in the breeze and thinking about the amazing village and cultural experience I had just witnessed. I was feeling healthy and back in my travel mode again. Then I saw a large group of people up ahead on the road. As we got closer we realized there had been a car accident. An SUV had flipped and a motorbike was in pieces. There were 2 foreign women banged up (it looked like a mother and daughter) and then a local girl on the ground surrounded by blood. Someone was holding a cloth to her face and she appeared to be going in and out of consciousness. I immediately jumped out to see if I could help in any way…not sure what I was going to do exactly. I ran to the foreigners and asked if they were ok, the daughter (who appeared to be around 15) just glanced at me and didn’t say anything. The older woman was now helping the seriously injured local girl. Turns out the motorbike tried to pass the SUV, but somehow they ended up colliding. Most people in the countryside of Cambodia do not follow the helmet law, and unfortunately in this case it didn’t seem like the girl was wearing one. Once I realized that I would not be able to help and was probably causing more harm than good, I began to get really lightheaded and sick to my stomach. All of the blood everywhere and the site of the injured girl being carried into someone’s car really freaked me out. <span style=""> </span>I got back in the tuk-tuk and spent the next 30 minutes holding back all the fears that were coming out. It was a moment where I realized that some crazy shit could happen while traveling. What were the foreigners going to do about the accident? Was the girl going to live? If she lived, her face was certainly going to be scarred for the rest of her life. All these thoughts were racing through my head and I wanted to see my family and loved ones and be “safe” from all of these potential disasters. It is so crazy how I was having a total “high” from the floating village and then moments later I was bottoming out to fear and depression. I seriously think I am turning into a bipolar maniac on this trip, my emotions seem to be one extreme to the other.<span style=""> </span>By the time we had returned to our guesthouse, I had talked myself through the stages of how anything could happen anywhere, even in my own hometown. I simply cannot think about the “What ifs” and just live in the moment. Bad shit just happens sometimes. And if something does happen….I will deal with it at that time.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">The next day we arrived to the coast. We were pleasantly surprised by how beautiful the water and beaches were. Everyone raves about the beaches in Thailand, but I was excited by what Cambodia had to offer. I was so ready to lie on the beach, wade in the warm water, and catch up on reading and journal writing. When we got to the beach we set out our towels and then noticed kids from all directions running towards us. Little did we know, the beaches were swarming with kids ages 10-18 who made a business of haggling the tourists for every cent they had. At first we told them “no thanks”, but they didn’t budge. Instead of trying to sell you things, they decided to befriend you. They would lie next to you and ask questions about where you were from, if you had a boyfriend and what your city was like. We were surrounded by about 7 girls who got real comfortable around us. They spoke very good English and I soon realized that these were pretty damn smart street kids…I held my belongings tight. I hadn’t shaved my legs in a few days and they noticed that. The girls whipped out some string and offered to “thread” my legs. Threading is a type of hair removal where they rub string on your skin and it pulls out the hair from the follicle. I used to get m eyebrows threaded in USA so was excited when they said they could thread my legs for $10. When I said yes, I didn’t realize that I had sold my soul to the devil and became these beach kids next “victim”. Laura and I spent hours chatting with these girls about their daily lives. Once you got to know them you felt like helping them out, so you started buying friendship bracelets and headbands and fruit from them. Once you bought something from one girl, the other girls made you feel bad so you had to buy something from them too. After spending almost $30 I finally told them that it was ENOUGH and I had no more money. I had gone way over my daily budget. We made them promise that the next day they would leave us alone and let us relax. The following day we got to the beach and all the girls ran up to us and gave us big hugs. We made some short talk with them and headed to our chairs. A few girls asked us if we wanted pedicures or to buy fruit, but for the most part they were not as aggressive. However, a different gang of girls started hassling us because they knew of all the business we gave the other girls the day before. I was a bit more authoritative and did not budge into any sale. The girls pouted and walked away. The new mob of girls started playing cards with the first group of girls. They were behind us and taking bets on each other. One girl from the new group lost a bet in the card game but didn’t want to pay up. Just as I was getting into relaxation mode I heard a bunch of girls yelling and a lot of commotion. I turned around to see that 2 girls were on the verge of fighting only about 10 feet from my chair. The commotion continued for another 5 minutes and all the locals working the beaches came around to see what was going on. Finally one of the girls snapped and charged the other girl and next thing I knew, we were witnessing a chick brawl between the two gangs of beach girls. They were pulling hair, smashing each other’s faces in the sand and swinging limbs at one another. Some of the adults were trying to pull them off each other but the fighting continued. A few guys jumped in and toned down the fight and then a police officer showed up. One of the girls was taken away from the scene and the fighting dissolved. Within seconds, all of the girls pulled their hair back again and shook off the sand, grabbed their jewelry or food trays and headed back to haggle the tourists. I was like…OOOOKKKKAAAAYYYY!<span style=""> </span>Note to self: Do not bet on a card game against a gang of Cambodian beach girls. So much for relaxing! The following day we decided to pay $15 for a boat to take us to an island nearby where there would be no loitering around. It was exactly what we were looking for…..We FINALLY got our tranquil day on the beach.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Our visa was up in Cambodia and we headed to Phnom Penh to catch a bus to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. I had met a British guy named Dave when we were first in Phnom Penh and he happened to be heading to Vietnam as well. We all got tickets on the same bus and headed to the border.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">I always get butterflies and excited when I am heading to another country. What sort of adventure lies ahead for me in this new place??? We were the only three foreigners on the bus to the border and the precious cabin boy was so sweet to us. He would go on and on in Khmer explaining the instructions of the border crossing to the locals. Then he would take a heaping breath and try his hardest to re-explain them in English. “Hello ladies gentlemen. We have at border I need passport. I take passport but you get back. Please do card with pen. I need passport but you get back. Thank you and good luck in your life”. He was such a sweet guy and went out of his way to make sure we were all ok. He would send us to the front of the immigration lines and constantly smile and tell us good luck. When we arrived to the border a Vietnamese man boarded the bus with a face mask and an ear thermometer.<span style=""> </span>Apparently we missed the memo, because as I looked around I realized that nearly everyone on the bus was also wearing face masks.<span style=""> </span>All 3 of us were seated in the last row and hadn’t noticed it before.<span style=""> </span>I hadn’t paid much attention to the latest on the swine flu, but I figured that was why he was taking everyone’s temperature. He went to each person and stuck the thermometer in their ear. Then he wiped it off with this small cotton swab. He used to same swab each time as if it was actually cleaning off the germs. Since we were the last row, you can imagine how excited we were when he approached us. As he stuck it in my ear I felt the greasy thermometer go against my dirty waxy ear. Fortunately, I did not have a temperature, but lord knows what type of bacteria is chilling in my ear right now from the 100s of people that he previously tested that day at the border.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Good morning, Vietnam….actually Good afternoon. We made it! When we got off the bus in Ho Chi Ming City aka Saigon (its name before the war), we were approached by locals trying to sell us a rooms in their guesthouse. We followed this one man and he took us down a main road then slipped down an alley. We were meandering through these small narrow alleys witnessing locals hanging outside of their homes. They were playing chess, cooking up food, gossiping, kicking footballs, and playing racquetball. It was so narrow that people were running into each other. Motorbikes and bicycles were trying to get buy the chaotic scene. Laundry and potted plants were hanging from the windows and small children were running around laughing and teasing each other. I smiled the whole way to our guesthouse….I immediately felt a good vibe from the city. The guesthouses in this area are all family owned. Usually their home is the bottom and second floor and then they have rooms on the 3<sup>rd</sup>, 4<sup>th</sup>, and 5<sup>th</sup> floors. When you enter the homes you need to take off your shoes. Our particular guesthouse is a family with a new born baby. I am actually not sure who lives there as there are always new people in the living room. They always say hello and the kids practice their greetings in English. The head lady is physically challenged and has deformities with her arms. I think it is some sort of dwarf syndrome. Her sister or another relative has lazy eyes and can’t look at you straight. The newborn baby has an oblong head. They are all very nice and hospitable. I am happy to be staying in their home.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Our first day, Laura and I decided to do a walking tour of the city. The big city was a bit overwhelming at first. As we walked down the street there were 100s of buzzing motorbikes flying by and mobs of people walking everywhere. The city felt like this pulsating energized body. The streets and sidewalks were the life support of the veins. We slowly maneuvered our way onto the sidewalk and joined into the flow of the bloodstream. If you wanted to cross the street, you had to keep moving without hesitation or else you may cause an accident. From the outside it seems like mayhem but once you joined into the flow, all of the hustle and bustle seemed to mesh together successfully. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">We headed to the War Remnants Museum which is known for its graphic display of photos from the “American War”. It was the first time that I had heard that term for the war. Growing up I studied about the “Vietnam War”, but they do not call it that on this side of the world. Once again, I was horrified by the photos and information that I read about. It is one thing to read something out of a textbook in school and another to re-live the moments in the country that it took place in. The museum was very one-sided and I pretty much felt like an American jackass as I walked through the exhibits. The most staggering part of the museum was the information about the Agent Orange chemical that the US dropped everywhere. Still today there are people being born with horrendous side effects from the toxins. I wondered if the people that ran my guesthouse were deformed because of the chemicals of the war.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Thanks to the Bill Clinton administration, our relations with Vietnam are doing better. The US Embassy re-opened in 1996 and Vietnam has since joined the World Trade Organization. I am looking forward to learning more about the culture and history through the next 3 weeks.
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<br /></span>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-13742966161091272482009-06-22T07:37:00.000-07:002009-06-22T10:00:19.228-07:00Cambodia: the good, the bad, and the uglyThe past 3 weeks in Cambodia have released many different emotions from me. It is a country of ups and downs, good and evil, yin and yang. From the Angkor Temples dating back to the 9th century, to its horrific civil war taking place only a few short years ago; the people of Cambodia are trying to rebuild their traditional lives and regain trust back into their country and government. It is also a country that has posed certain obstacles that I have not yet had to deal with while traveling. There have been a few moments that I could have easily thrown down the ropes and got on the first plane back to Austin. However, after a feeling sorry for myself and reanalyzing the situations, I reiterated to myself that traveling is not always peaches and cream and sometimes shit doesn´t always work out. It is these moments that I need to push through and get back on track to this amazing experience I am on.<br />After a few days in Phnom Penh, Laura and I decided to head up to the wild northeastern part of Cambodia. Only recently was a tarmac road built to the middle of the area, but after that there were only dirt roads. It was the beginning of the rainy season so there was no guarantee of our travel plans or how far up we were going to get. Our first stop in this region was to a town called Kratie. It is right on the Mekong River and famous for taking boat rides to see the freshwater Irrawaddy Dolphins. When we jumped out of the bus there were about 10 local guys holding up their hotel brochures and throwing out prices. There was one young kid in front of me who spoke very good English and caught my attention. Little did I know that this kid was probably the wealthiest person in Kratie because he would end up selling and schmoozing us into every purchase we made in that town. He knew exactly what we wanted to do and when we wanted to do it and he would give us this information before we even asked for it. After we got settled into the hotel he knocked on our door and asked if we wanted to go see the dolphins. He explained that he and his friend could take us out on their motorbikes to take a sunset boat ride. Next thing I knew, we were on the back of these guys motorbikes cruising 15k to the Mekong River. We rode through small villages and all the kids ran to the road to wave at us. Once we were on the boat, we drove around for a few hours searching for dolphins. I must admit, the dolphins were not all that interesting….ever few minutes you would see them come to the surface and then go back down. They are close to extinction though so it was neat to see them and help contribute money to their survival. The coolest part of the trip was this amazing cloud formation that took place while we were on the boat ride. This cloud turned into this crazy rainbow color that went all the way across the sky. Laura thought that it might be the sun reflecting back on the lower clouds and causing the spectrum of light, but whatever was happening…it was strange and I had never seen anything like it before. You can view some pics on my Kratie album in Picasa.<br />Our little salesman buddy convinced us that we needed to buy a ticket to take the “mini bus” to the next town, Banlung. Halfway to Banlung the tarmac road ended and it was another 2 hours on dirt road. If there was a storm then the big bus would have a lot of problems getting through. However, the minibus (which is basically like a shuttle van) would get there quicker and have no problems with the rain. Since we had no idea what to expect we booked the minibus…later we found out that our dude made a nice commission off the minibus and not the regular bus and that is the whole reason behind his pitch. Because to say it nicely….the minibus sucked!!! There were 3 rows in the van. Laura and I were the first to be picked up and he put us in the very last row. I figured that they would seat 3 people per row since we had our bags with us. So with 3 people per row and 2 up front that would make 11 people. It would be a tight fit, but do-able. At the next stop, 2 Germans got in and he directed them to sit in the back with us. There were all these empty seats so we were confused why we all needed to sit in the same row. So next thing I knew, it was me and 3 Germans with our bodies in pretzel like positions. It was going to be a long ride. Every time I thought that we couldn´t get any more people in the van, they would stop again and load them in. By the end of it, we had 18 people in the van and a ton of other bags of supplies and who knows what else. During the 5 hour ride, the whole left side of my body went numb and when we got out for the toilet break I almost fell over because I could not feel my leg. I understand that this is how the Cambodians travel and I shouldn´t complain about it, but let´s face it people….my body is probably twice the size of an average Cambodian. The other 3 Germans weren´t small people either. We had 4 people in our row with no room to move and they had 6 in the row in front of us and looked nice and comfortable. What bothered me the most was passing the large buses and seeing the people in their own individual seats with their own personal space. That kid from Kratie was a liar…he was a very good liar and convinced us that the minibus was better. Ah well – you haven´t done Cambodia until you have ridden in a minibus with 18 people for 5 hours.<br />Banlung felt like a town in the wild west. The red dirt roads made everything dusty and dirty and it felt very underdeveloped. When we got out of the minibus we were attacked again by the locals trying to get us to stay at their hotels. We had an idea of where we wanted to stay, but this guy started lying to us saying that our hotel had closed down so we needed to go to his. We knew he was jacking with us and told him to get lost. Then he jumped in the minivan and told the driver to take us to his place. It all happened so fast and next thing I knew we were in the parking lot of his hotel and all the workers came to greet us and take our bags. I was frustrated because I was getting so sick of being dragged around and screwed with over every situation. I wanted to go to a certain hotel and I told our drive that and they would not listen to me. Laura and I refused to get out of the van and demanded to go to our hotel of choice. When we told them where we wanted to go the employees said how horrible our hotel was and that the place was swarming with prostitutes. Another person even said that this used to be that hotel, but that they recently changed the name so we were actually already there. We finally just started ignoring them and told the minibus driver to take us where we originally asked. 2 of the hagglers jumped in with us to ride there because they said we would hate it so much and want to come back to this hotel. They took us to another different hotel and had to go through a similar situation again. Finally we arrived to the correct one and the 2 hagglers had the nerve to come up to reception and ask for a commission because they brought us there. I was so frustrated and annoyed and they surely were not getting any tip from me.<br />Banlung was the first city where I actually felt uncomfortable with the local men. Since I have started traveling I have either had a male companion, a group of people, or if I was alone I was in a comfortable country. I am now traveling with only one other girl in a place where we don´t know the language and do not understand every situation we are in. The men stared and pointed and talked directly to you in Khmer and then they would all start laughing. It was an akward few days and I am not sure why we were getting the weird vibe from the locals…the local men mainly. One day we rented bikes to cruise around the outside villages and check out this volcanic crater lake. I am not sure why we thought renting a one gear bike during the rainy season on dirt roads was going to be a good idea, but despite the hard work, it was fun. It was nice to get out of the main city center and we passed villages where oxen were walking alongside us on the roads and kids were running around naked and playing in the rain. We visited some waterfalls and received smiles from the villagers. On the way back to the town, however, I was a bit ahead of Laura on my bike. There was nothing around and I was just cruising along. This man jumped out of the jungle and stopped me. He was mumbling in Khmer and his eyes looked very strange as he sized me up. He approached me and continued talking in his language and staring at me. The he put his hands down his pants. I am not sure if he was going for a weapon or what his intentions were, but it freaked me out. I immediately turned around and started running. He grabbed for my back but I managed to run faster and leave him behind. A few moments later a car came by and he ran back into the jungle. I ran all the way back to Laura and was freaking out. No harm was done and I am safe, but it all happened so quickly. It was in the middle of daylight and I was innocently riding my bike. I felt more and more vulnerable in this town and I was getting very upset with it. On top of all of this frustration, I was also exhausted. All of these emotions were going through me and my anger was building up. Maybe I had had enough of travel….maybe things were starting to wear on me and I was not enjoying it like I used to. It was a tough day for me….<br />After a few days in Banlung, we both agreed that the vibe was weird and it was time to move on. We got a ticket for the BIG bus and headed back down 11 hours to Phnom Penh. I wanted to visit the Tuol Sleng Museum and we didn´t have time the first week we were there. Tuol Sleng was a high school that turned into a prison camp during the genocide of the Khmer Rouge. It was such an eerie site to see. Clearly it had been a high school, but the rooms had been turned into cells for the prisoners. There were still blood stains on the walls and endless photos of the innocent victims. I spent about 3 hours walking and reading about the war. In 1979, a group of socialists from Sweden were invited to Cambodia from the Khmer Rouge to come see how the communist society was a success and the people were happy. They were the first foreigners allowed to visit the country after the height of the war had settled. One of the Swedish guys took tons of photos and questioned some of the situations but was overall pleased with how the government was working. He was hopeful to find a society in which communism was truly successful. The Khmer Rouge used the information from the Swedish group as propaganda to the outside world on how great everything was. As it turns out, they staged most of the sites where they took the Swedish group and forced villagers to smile and be excited when the foreigners were around. The schools were being taught by fake teachers and they quickly scribbled formulas on the blackboards, when in fact none of the children were in school but working as slaves at young ages instead. The group returned to Sweden and shortly after the truth came out about the corrupt regime, the photographer felt awful. His pictures and stories helped the propaganda and supported this appalling genocide. He dedicated a photographic presentation in the museum to support the fact that genocide had taken place. Almost 30 years later, the photographer is no longer socialist and has a hard time believing that any political system can be successful because there will always be corruption. It was so interesting to me because the Khmer Rouge fooled so many people. They even convinced neighbors and families to fight against each other…..no one knew what was right and what was wrong before it was too late. I have spoken to a few Cambodians about the situation. Many of their parents fought in support of the Khmer Rouge, but they did not know the entirety of it all. It has been hard to bring the country back together because of the collective society that the Khmer Rouge sought out for and turned people against one another to help keep authority. There is not one Cambodia in the country today that was not affected firsthand by the Khmer Rouge.<br />After a brief stop in Phnom Penh, we headed up to Siem Reap to do a 3 day excursion of the Angkor Temples. The temples are the iconic image of Cambodia. We rented a tuk-tuk for 3 days. Our driver, Dong, was really funny and we joked back and forth with him the entire time. We visited the famous Angkor Wat temple for sunrise, which is the largest religious temple in the world, according to Lonely Planet. We snuck into the temple while everyone else was still watching the sunrise and had the place nearly to ourselves for about 15 minutes. We visited a dozen temples, some dating back before the 9th century all the way to the 12th. The history and sheer size of them were humbling. I could not even imagine what they must have looked like painted in gold and bright colors with 1000s of monks walking around centuries ago. I took a lot of pictures that you can view in Picasa.<br />After 3 days in the sun and profusely sweating, Laura and I were not feeling too well. Our appetite had already been low since we had arrived in Cambodia and pounds were melting off of us. It was hard to drink as much water as we were sweating out. On the last day of the temple excursion I became very lightheaded and fatigued. Nausea overwhelmed me but I never could vomit. I was having a hard time eating food. We decided to rest the next day and lay in bed drinking fluids. I still did not feel well, but I figured that I would be fine. If we had heat exhaustion then surely it would pass since we were not outside. We decided to head south to a town called Battambang to see the countryside and make our way to the floating villages. On the bus ride down there I felt fine…Still exhausted and fatigued with a bit of nausea, but nothing else seemed to be happening. The following day we woke up and had eggs and bread. Then we hired two guys to take us on a half day excursion through the countryside to see how the villagers made rice paper, rice noodles, and bamboo snacks. After our first stop I started to feel dizzy and nauseas again, but it wasn´t anything different then how I had already been feeling. I drank some water and convinced myself that I was ok. It started to rain so we pulled under a thatched roof. There was a girl selling these grilled bananas and our guide bought some for us to try. The banana was covered in some weird seasoning and onions and did not settle well in my stomach. We continued on to the rice noodle house. It was really neat to see how the villagers made these things to take to market, which we would eventually eat in the restaurants. The rice noodles, however, had this weird scent….almost like cat shit. Between the aroma and the funky grilled banana, there wasn´t much mental blocking I could do for my unsettled stomach. While the villager was showing us how they formed the noodle shape, I took off running towards the road and tucked behind the fence. About 2 seconds later I vomited up all of my breakfast and the banana. It was actually a weird relief to vomit because I had been nauseas for 3 days already. My guide came over to see if I was ok and started hitting my back. It took all the energy inside me to politely ask him to stop touching me. I threw up a few more times and gathered my composure. I figured I was going to be ok and proceeded on with the tour. Our next stop was the fish market. If I thought that the rice noodles smelled bad then I had another thing coming. I wasn´t even to the fish market yet, when the smell overwhelmed me and the nausea came back. I ran to the side of the road and vomited a few more times while all of the villagers stared at me. My guide bought some tiger balm and ran over to me and started to hit my back again while I was in vomiting convulsion mode. This time I grabbed his leg and pushed him away from me. When I was finished I got up to explain to him that I did not like being touched when I was doing that when all of a sudden his finger filled with tiger balm came at my face and he rubbed a bunch of it under my nose. He then sat me down and started rubbing my temples with the tiger balm. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. All of these villagers staring at me and this dude was rubbing tiger balm all over my face. I didn´t have any energy to do or say anything and just stared melancholy into space. Laura came back from the fish market. I didn´t want to ruin her tour so I decided to continue on. Our next stop was the bamboo place which I did not see anything at either because as soon as I got off the bike I ran behind the house to vomit again. When I heard the tour guide walk up I mumbled for him to not touch me…that I just needed to be alone for a few minutes. After my episode there, Laura came up to me and told me that we were going home. I needed to get into bed. I managed to make it back to the hotel where I laid in the bathroom. We have no Air Con so I was sweating insanely and hugging the toilet and dry heaving into the pot about every 15 minutes for the next 2 hours. If there were a button that I could push to sky rocket me back to Austin at that moment, I would have pushed it. Since I have been traveling, this is the worst that I have been sick. In fact, I can´t remember feeling that miserable in years. Shortly after I arrived back to the hotel, the diarrhea set in and I had to do the classic “sit on the pot holding the trashcan” maneuver. After 2 hours my body switched to purely diarrhea mode and the vomiting subdued. It is the first time that I was excited to have diarrhea…diarrhea is way more comfortable then vomiting in my opinion. I am not sure if it was food poisoning or some type of parasite. As I am writing this blog it is only the next day and I am still locked in my room recovering. I made it to the clinic today to see if I should get tested for Malaria, but when I walked in it seemed like a cluster of madness and when a doctor finally came up to me I didn´t even know what to say to them. I just said that I was kind of not feeling well and that if it got worse I may come back. I bought some cipro and rehydration salt packets and have just been drinking that. Every time I drink some salt water, about 5 minutes later I go to piss it out my ass again. Sorry for the description, but nothing is staying in my body. I seem to have an appetite and have hunger pains, but the last thing I want to eat is Asian food. I can´t think about stomaching a fried noodle or piece of rice right now. I need some comfort food and I need my mom or dad to tuck me into bed and bring me tea and soup. Ahhhh I know I am being a whiner, but being sick abroad is no fun!<br />So yeah, I am not sure why, but Cambodia has put me through some obstacles…..it has been very character building and if it keeps up at this rate, then my character is going to be VERY big by the end of this trip.<br />With all of that said, I feel that I may have given Cambodia a negative light in this blog. I have had many great experiences here and learned about historical events that I was unaware of. I think that some of the challenges that happened to me were isolated events that could have happened anywhere. I admit that I am tired and homesick, but I am working hard on getting over this hump. I have some amazing months and countries ahead of me. As long as I get this diarrhea under control, then I shall travel on my friends.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-8155791451208059202009-06-05T04:29:00.000-07:002009-06-07T12:09:45.769-07:00A whirlwind of a birthday!Laura and I parted ways with Paolo and headed to a town called Ubud. It is a pretty cool artsy-fartsy town. Although, I think that is was a heck of a lot cooler about 10-15 years ago, but now it seems a bit over run with tourists and philosophical ex-pats. There was a really nice yoga studio in town with daily classes, so we decided to chill-out here for a few days.<br />Besides doing yoga, we would walk through the small villages on the outskirts of town and try local cuisine at side vendors. One night we attended a Balinese fire dance. There were over 50 people participating in the dance. There are no musical instruments...all sounds are made by mouth and strategic hand clapping. I am going to try to upload a video of it soon...it was pretty incredible. We also spent time planning the next few months of travel. We decided our route would be to head up to Cambodia, Vietnam, and Laos to visit those countries before the height of the rainy season. We purchased plane tickets to Cambodia, which had a stop in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. The date that we planned to fly out was my birthday (June 3rd)...so we decided to stay one night in Kuala Lumpur to party it up before our next flight to Cambodia. It was going to be a 24 hour layover...and a whirlwind of a birthday.<br />Malaysia is a Muslim country and when we landed in Kuala Lumpur, it was my first experience of seeing the Muslim culture full on. Most of the woman wore these elegant scarfs around their heads and were very modestly dressed. We passed elaborate mosques and you could see people in their knees praying inside. The city is a huge metropolis and one of the most international cities in SE Asia, so there is a major mix of other religions and cultures there as well. It was crazy coming from the small island of Bali and arriving to one of the most modern cities in the world. The Petronas Towers are probably the most iconic image and famous building in the city. Up until 2004 it was the tallest building in the world and is still the tallest towers in the world. We arrived in the evening and after we checked into the hotel, walked to the towers to see it at night. Since it was just me and Laura, I didnt think the night would be that huge....I figured we would grab a few drinks and then get some sleep. We were going to try to visit the observation deck of the towers in the morning before our flight out. Well, I couldn´t have been more incorrect about the night.....it was a lot crazier then I had expected.<br />After the towers, we walked the strip to try and find a decent bar. I recognized a group of people from the airport that we had met in Bali. I ran up to them to say hello...I didnt even know these people, but it seemed weird that we ran into them again, so I took it as a sign that we must have a drink together. It was a group of 4 Finish people: Jaakko, Titta, Kenneth, and Tommy. They were a fun group and I told them to join us for the bday festivities. At the bar, Titta was telling us about this amazing massage that she got in Thailand. She explained how the lady massaged her whole body in oil and then at the end, massaged her breasts and slapped them back and forth. She thought it was odd, but surprisingly enough, enjoyed the experience. I just about coughed up my cocktail as she told the story...I mean, the girls name is TITTA for crying out loud. Titta...who got her titties slapped in Thailand. Laura and I thought it was the funniest story....and laughed throughout the night saying to each other "Titta got her titties slapped" over and over. It was about 1am and Tommy wasnt feeling very well. Him and Titta went home and Kenneth and Jaakko continued on with us through the night. We were on a mission to find a pub to hangout in since none of us really liked the night club scene. We asked taxi after taxi where we could find one and the always dropped us off at a different nightclub. We finally settled at a place where there werent any other tourists around. It was the street that the locals came to party at. As we were hanging outside, a fight started outside of the club. It was a street fight between a group of Malaysians. It was so different then the street fights in the US. There was no punching or beer bottle bashing.....it was straight Martial art style fighting. This guy lifted his hands up and then his knee and after a split second drop kicked the other guy. The fight broke up and the mod of people scattered. I was kind of freaking out because I had only scene stuff like that in Kung Fu movies. After a few minutes, one of the fighters got on his motorbike and then out of nowhere a car came down the street and hit him....he went flying off the bike and landed in the middle of the street. Another huge street fight broke out. We were safely to the side and minding out own business....but it was a pretty crazy scene. The bar closed at 3am so we got in a taxi to go home. The driver told us there was one more bar opened until 5am if we wanted to go there....our senses were partially impaired and it seemed like a great idea at the time, so off we went to another bar. The scene at this place was very young. When I went to the bathroom I was surrounded by 18-21 year old Asian girls (I am an old and wise 27 year old now)....it was like I took a bathroom from 6th street and dumped it in the middle of Kuala Lumpur. The girls were drunk....some crying over boys, some re-applying make-up, a few throwing up while their friends held their hair, and then the other girls impatiently waiting in line for a stall. I had to laugh at the situation because here I was... this big tall white girl hovering over this chaotic bathroom scene. All I could think about was how it was the asian replica of the bathroom in Paradox on 6th street.<br />Finally. this bar closed and we headed out to hail a cab when all of a sudden I had this brilliant idea that we should just stay up until 8am and go straight to the Petronas Towers. I knew if we passed out now that we would not wake up in time for the towers. We found a restaurant to get some malaysian food and sober up. When we were eating, this man named Moses came and sat at our table. He was a very peculiar man....for about 30 minutes he explained to us how he was a Pakistani living in the US with his familz. After 9-11 he was removed from America and has been floating around to different countries trying to start a new life. When we were finished eating he asked if he could eat our leftovers still on our plates. I couldnt tell if his life story was true or not or if he was simply trying to get some food to eat....regardless, he was an interesting character.<br />It was finally 7:30am and Laura and I walked to the Petronas Towers....we had been told that the doors opened at 8am to get the tickets. When we arrived, it turned out that you couldnt get tickets until 8:30 and go to the viewing deck at 9am. I couldnt believe it.....we had made it this far and we still had another hour to wait. I took a few more pictures of the towers and then the exhaustion of travel, alcohol, and lack of sleep snuck up on me. I told Laura that I couldnt make it to the end..it was so close, yet so far away. It was 8:15am and I was going home to go to sleep. We slept until 11am and then got up and headed back to the airport.....off to Cambodia!<br />We landed in Phnom Penh, Cambodia that afternoon. It was such a vast change from Kuala Lumpur...no more high tech skyscrapers or innovative mass transport. This was a much poorer, underdeveloped city. We took a Tuk Tuk (motorized bike with a carriage attached) into town and found a place to sleep.<br />Cambodia has a very brutal past and the country is still recovering from much of it. It was only in the mid 1970s where the genocide and the killing fields took place by the Khmer Rouge. Thousands were brutaly murdered. We went to the killing fields to see the memorial and mass grave sites. There are thousands of human skulls inside the memorial...it was a very eery and disturbing site.<br />Throughout the city, I saw tons of non profit efforts to help the community. There were stores selling crafts and the proceeds would go to woman and children in an effort to teach them english and skills to find work. There were several restaurants in town giving 100% profits back to the community as well. I am not sure who is running these organizations, but (if they are actually giving money back to the community) then I am pleased to see them and have boughten a few items from the stores. It doesnt appear that the money from the government is trickling down to the people...it is what they call a Kleptocracy...very corrupt.<br />Cambodia is a Buddhist country and as you walk through the streets you see tons of monks wearing orange robes. I am excited to learn more about the religion and culture as we travel through out to the countryside for the next month.<br />The past few weeks have been a whirlwind. In just 2 days we traveled through 3 countries....3 religions ((Hindu, Muslim, and Buddhism), and what seemed like 3 different worlds! From the jungles of Bali, to the skyscrapers of Kuala Lumpur, to the underdeveloped city of Phnom Penh.....<br />Phew! I think I am going to take a nap now....Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-22942277685651946122009-05-26T02:24:00.000-07:002009-05-26T04:24:48.462-07:00Bali Bali Bali!I love the people, the food, the culture, and the prices in Bali... not to mention it is beautiful on top of all of that. It is easy for me to understand why this is a popular stop on the backpackers trail. Indonesia is 90% Muslim, aside from the island of Bali, where the majority of the population is Hindu. As I arrived to immigrations I walked past a large sign that read "Drug Trafficking is Punishable by Death". The laws here are a bit different then in the states. If you are caught with a joint on you, you risk 5 to 20 years imprisonment. I think I'll stick to the booze here....hee hee...just kidding ( I don't do drugs).<br />Laura, this girl I met in New Zealand, met me at the airport. We are planning on traveling a bit together in SE Asia. On the airplane I also met Paulo, an Italian from Milan. He wanted to rent a car and drive around the island for a few days...he was wondering if we wanted to split the cost. At first I thought he was crazy because the people drive like maniacs here, but then I remembered how crazy they drove in Italy, so I figured Paulo would do just fine.<br />Before we rented the car, we decided to check out the infamous town, Kuta. This is the party/touristy area and I don't plan on ever going back to this town again. The streets were filled with 18 year old kids looking to party until the sun came up. Hagglers were at every corner and the accommodation and food was overpriced. However, Paolo met the Indonesian girl of his dreams and post-poned renting the car for one more day. He was in love at first site and she said she would meet up with him later that night. Laura and I told him to be careful....even though he felt like he had a connection with this girl, she may be after more then a fulfilling relationship. The next morning Paolo said that she was a bit crazy and seemed very promiscuous.....I don't think he wanted to admit to himself that she may be a prostitute. She just said that she was very sexual and he didn't know if he wanted to get involved. I guess Paolo re-thought his options though, because that evening he politely asked when Laura and I would be eating dinner. He was wondering if he could use the room for a few hours with the girl. I wasn't sure how to respond to him...in my head I was like "Are you freaking serious dude? You want to bring a prostitute back to our room for a few hours?", but for some reason I passively replied " We can be out of here in 10 minutes...wear a condom and don't touch our beds." Uuuuhhhhh Laura and I couldn't believe what was happening. We decided to go get a few drinks to try and forget the situation that was taking place in our bedroom. Later that night we returned to the room...and found frustrated Paolo. Turns out they did not have sex after all. In fact, he met up with her and her friend who looked to be about 12 years old (but told him she was 19). Then after a few minutes, his girl said she had to run an errand and would return later, but that he should hang out with his friend. When they were alone, the younger girl then proceeded to ask him if he wanted to have sex. He felt really uncomfortable and left. Laura and I were laughing hysterically....first we were happy that there was not a prostitute in our room...and second, Paolo's true love was actually a pimp.<br />The next day we rented our car and headed out to explore the other areas of the island. The streets were filled with motorbikes and cars and even though there were lanes, no one seemed to pay attention to them. However, Paolo maneuvered through the streets like a knife through warm butter.When people got in his way, he would curse at them in Italian, throw his hands in the air, and then throw the car into gear and speed around them. Meanwhile, I was having miniature heart attacks and getting cramps in my leg from pushing my imaginary foot break. I could already tell that the next 3 days were going to be interesting.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPCw7wljJFb1iegMHkivr5jymjRPL9uw3AqEIed7wzldNIsclm-IzI8TvwvE49U9Fn21ZpB7AqindseKRcS8gtz3t2N5Z3GBaDlm8Sg6_PIOgtlgS2Nha4zrM0vAGxJnL0R2ho4mouD7q/s1600-h/IMG_9506.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPCw7wljJFb1iegMHkivr5jymjRPL9uw3AqEIed7wzldNIsclm-IzI8TvwvE49U9Fn21ZpB7AqindseKRcS8gtz3t2N5Z3GBaDlm8Sg6_PIOgtlgS2Nha4zrM0vAGxJnL0R2ho4mouD7q/s200/IMG_9506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340088883030099922" border="0" /></a><br />As soon as we left the tourist area, the prices dropped and the tourists fizzled. We only came across a handful of foreigners within the next few days. Bali used to be over-run with tourists, but because of a stream of bad luck, there are not as many as before. Indonesia is where the Tsunami took place and there have been 2 terrorists bombings in Bali itself. When we were in Kuta, we visited ground zero , which had been a nightclub. Over 200 people from around the world died that night, including 7 travelers from USA. When we were driving around Bali, many of the villagers said that the bad luck, combined with the economic recession had left them with very little business. It is all very sad, but it made for a unique experience....it was the first time in my travels where we were alone at many of the temples and sites.<br />I had been so used to traveling alone that it took a little getting used to with 2 more companions. Paolo and Laura both had very strong personalities and they did not get along very well. There was some tension for the 3 days in the car...I tried my best to dismiss the drama, but personality differences is a con to traveling with other people. The pro, however, is split costs for accommodation. We stayed in some very decent places for around $4-5/night. This was a huge difference to the $30/night dorm rooms I was staying at in Australia....3 people meant 3 different opinions and slight tensions, but it also meant saving money.<br />We stopped in small villages for lunch and ate from street vendors for .80 cents. Half the time we didn't even know what we were eating, but everything tasted great. We visited Hindu temples where you had to wear sarongs. As I mentioned above, there were hardly any other tourists at these temples....we would walk in silence and listen to the wind and trees and fountains. The temples were very peaceful and serene.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhataLr1Dw-HupxwFv341JdppVHvNgQ0i7gOSF-ZlKjKPSrlhBXkR5_4NjS3BmzIGZzmkQrDpGpjs-303AiXAAYs1wH2PTTlwmkvr6YBTlPMJ1oBaebecvVQnS0FwC7_zJksqfSX36y4dPx/s1600-h/IMG_9531.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhataLr1Dw-HupxwFv341JdppVHvNgQ0i7gOSF-ZlKjKPSrlhBXkR5_4NjS3BmzIGZzmkQrDpGpjs-303AiXAAYs1wH2PTTlwmkvr6YBTlPMJ1oBaebecvVQnS0FwC7_zJksqfSX36y4dPx/s200/IMG_9531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340090464901661042" border="0" /></a><br />May 24th was Laura's birthday. We were in a very small village for the night and there wasn't any nightlife. I felt bad because I knew that she wanted to go do something to celebrate. Her and Paolo got in an argument about parking and she said she wasn't going to go out at all and wanted to be left alone. I finally was annoyed by the situation and told her that it was her birthday and to suck it up....yes, she could be mad at Paolo, but she was not staying home. We went to a small shop where this lady was cooking up food. We told her we needed 3 plates of whatever she was cooking up. I tried to order some beer to give Laura a toast, but they did not have any alcohol. So we ordered some tea instead. An older Balinese man, named Chakra, sat next to us and knew some English. He asked us where we were from and how long we had been in Bali. The man was very entertaining and we spent the evening getting to know him. We told him it was Laura's birthday and we were trying to find a drink to toast to her. He said that after dinner he would take us to his friends place because they sold liquor. When we got the bill, Paolo jokingly accused the Chakra of raising the prices because we were tourists. Chakra did not understand it as a joke and was really offended. Him and Paolo went back and forth and the conversation was very convoluted because of the language barrier for both of them. Neither of them were 100% fluent in English and the meanings were not being portrayed correctly. It was an awkward moment and took a few minutes to smooth over. After the small dispute, Chakra told us to follow him into the village to his friend's place. I was now a little weary because I wasn't sure if he was still upset or not, but we followed him anyways. He took us to a shop that was closed and the owners let us into a side door. The shop was owned by a family and there home was in the back. It was late, but they had huge smiles and welcomed us inside. The owner pulled out a gasoline canister and poured a clear liquid into some glasses. The liquor was fermented from rice. Chakra drank it straight, but we mixed it with some soda. We toasted Laura's birthday and sat in the closed shop and talked with the family. I was a really neat experience to hang out with the locals. They asked what Paolo did for a living....Paolo explained that he had just finished Law school and was traveling for a bit. Chakra said "ahhhhh law school...soon you become a senator...and then you will be president like Obama."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2PtnZIjcbX1PegAfV63M4TVAO9CIFwq5XtfBjjGal9lq5FrjLDuF7pZJe_oj8oxn-OCHZedY_xi9LhrqCC59tpI-4-mOldytVKqoNKuaKZwXLPWXEPgRMXBeXxNk4sOufcK5dPypNojo/s1600-h/IMG_9645.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2PtnZIjcbX1PegAfV63M4TVAO9CIFwq5XtfBjjGal9lq5FrjLDuF7pZJe_oj8oxn-OCHZedY_xi9LhrqCC59tpI-4-mOldytVKqoNKuaKZwXLPWXEPgRMXBeXxNk4sOufcK5dPypNojo/s200/IMG_9645.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340091668318330354" border="0" /></a><br />The road trip was a blast....we cruised around the island and visited places that I never would have seen by bus. The Balinese people are gracious and warm. Even though there was some tension among the other 2 travelers, I really enjoyed the experience. I never once thought about what we were doing tomorrow...or what country I was going to next. It was the first time...in a long time...that I was completely in the moment.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-73874834442781779162009-05-15T17:12:00.000-07:002009-05-15T21:30:32.596-07:00The Outback: "Team Cecilia"After Sydney, I headed to Alice Springs, the hub for all Outback adventures. Most people come to Australia to travel the east coast and hang out on the beach and snorkel on the Great Barrier Reef. But for some reason that did not sound appealing to me. I wanted to see the Outback and learn about the aboriginal culture. Since I didn't have my own transport, I decided to do a 5 day tour. I am always weary about signing up for tours...is it going to be worth the money, will my tour group be cool, etc. Fortunately, the tour that I did was well worth the money. The itinerary, guide, and group were awesome. The tour was a mix of adventure, cultural awareness, history, geological formations, and best of all....laughter. I am going to try my best to capture all the moments of the tour, but I know that this blog won't give the moments justice. Let's just say...it was an experience that I will look back on and smile about for years to come. My group has all agreed about this...and our guide said we were one of his most special groups that he has had in a long time.<br /><br />Upon arrival to Alice Springs, I didn't know that much about The Outback...especially the history and culture side of it. As I walked through the city the day before my tour started, it was very clear that there was a racial tension throughout. There were aboriginal people lingering around the streets corners, passed out or yelling obscenities. There was a dried up river in the city that groups of aboriginals would hang around bomb fires that they would make each night. I went for a jog around the city and then went out for dinner on my own...it was the first time in my life that I felt a little scared towards a specific group of people. The police were present everywhere and I realized the city has a bad reputation for violence and danger. I noticed that I would walk on the other side of the road to avoid walking near them...they were dirty and smelled and I was scared they would do something to me. Then I realized that it was the first time that I was experiencing racist feelings....this was very unlike me. I was being ignorant to the situation and it disturbed me that the thoughts even went through my head. I was looking forward to the tour so that I could understand these people more and figure out the complex situation that was taking place in front of me. I decided to immediately disregard the initial feelings I was having and learn as much as I could about the aboriginal culture before I cast any judgements towards them.<br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>Day 1</strong><br /><br />The tour company picked my up at my hostel at 6 am in the morning. It was still dark outside as I boarded the bus and I couldn't really see any of the other passengers. I sat between an older man and a girl who looked to be about my age. The girl was named Kate, she was from the UK and was living in Australia for a few months, taking a break from her life in the UK and getting her head together. Kate and I instantly clicked and she became my side-kick during the tour. The man was named Richard (aka Whiskey Dick for his love of whiskey...not the other reason). I don't even know where to begin with Richard, he was a 48 year old American and had started his spiritual journey later in his life because of some major experiences he went through. He was a whiskey drinking, motivating, spiritual person. He loved the outdoors and was a mix between Patrick Swazye and Crocodile Dundee. So there it was....the 2 Yankees and the Brit. We were chatting throughout the entire drive in the morning and it was very apparent that we were going to be the 3 'loud" ones of the group.<br />The other group members were Tudor & Sonar, an older couple from Sri Lanka and currently residing in the UK. Tudor was a doctor and would perform magic tricks for us throughout the tour. Then there was Bridgette from Melbourne. She was only 18 years old and worked on a cattle station. She carried herself like a wise old woman and didn't mind getting her hands dirty. We had the 4 Germans: Ines, Julia, Chris, Anna. Ines and Julia were friends and traveling together. Chris was your typical German "office" guy (as Ines and Julia described). He was what we would call a computer nerd I think. Anna was a sweet 21 year old who had innocence written all over. I had actually met her at a hostel in New Zealand so it was a pleasant surprise to see her again. Then we had the Italian lovers who didn't speak much or mingle with the rest of the group. I didn't get to know them very well. Last but not least was our guide, Geoff. He was 38 and had had an interesting life as well. I quickly nicknamed him El Jefe (which means boss in Spanish) so he got a kick out of that.<br />Our first stop of the day was at a Camel farm. For $5 you could ride on a camel, which I totally did because when else will I be able to ride on a camel. When we arrived, Geoff noticed that the back door to the truck was open and that a bag had fallen out on the 2 hour drive to the camel farm. The bag was one of the Italians and had all of her belongings for a years worth of travel. They had to backtrack to try and find it....which gave the group time to mingle and get to know each other. Unfortunately, the bag was not found and Geoff was embarrassed by the misfortune so early into the tour. The back door was faulty so we had to tie a string around it to keep it closed. (The bag was actually found the next day so everything was good to go.)<br />Next stop was King's Canyon. it reminded me of the red rocks in Southern Utah. Cliffs of red stone everywhere. We hiked through them for a few hours while Geoff explained the geological features and how they were created, etc. We came upon a watering hole where we had the option to take a dip. Geoff also asked us to take a few minutes of silence and listen to the winds and trees and wildlife around us....As we were doing this, Richard decided he wanted to take a swim. He got undressed down to his white underpants and walked his way to the watering hole. We all watched him in silence thinking to ourselves "This dude is kind of crazy, huh?" As he went to take his first step into the water he slipped on the moss and slammed into the ground. It was by far one of the funniest moments I have seen on my trip. Here we were in silent mode, being one with the land and he is walking around in his underwear and then completely eats shit into the water hole. The brilliant thing about Richard, is that he does not get embarrassed. He explained to me that he spent his first 40 years worrying about what others thought about him and he was going to spend the next 40 being weird and not giving a damn about it. This is why I loved Richard! Anyways, he didn't even skip a beat and continued swimming as we all looked at each other wondering if we should laugh or continue being in silent mode. I finally couldn't hold myself and started chuckling. We didn't know each other well enough to burst into hard laughter...but it would be a moment that we would soon laugh about throughout the rest of our tour. When Richard got up, he had this streak of green moss on his ass from where he slid in....I will never forget that moment! After Richard got out of the water he started walking around the area and stumbled across a part of the land that was off-limits because of re conservation. Geoff quickly yelled to him to get off that part of the land. Richard then tripped over the fallen conservation sign and then almost tripped over his own feet. Kate and I just looked at each other with our eyes filling up with tears....Richard was going to be a liability the next 5 days...crazy "Whisky Dick" Richard.<br />That night we arrived to our camp site and as a team, we cooked dinner and set up camp. Richard had some whiskey and Kate had some wine so we all had a few drinks and mingled some more. This was the night that I had my "typical American" moment. I was talking to the Germans and explaining how I visited Germany with my family when I was in the 8th grade and how we rented a car and drove on "The Autobahn" (in a thick German accent). The German girls started laughing hysterically and pointed at me saying how I was such a typical American. I was so confused and didn't understand what was so funny. Anna explained that all Americans talk about "The Autobahn" as if it is this one grand street in Germany where people drive on as fast as they want. I agreed..."well yeah...that is what it is, right?" They laughed again and said "I bet you think we wear lederhosen ever day and have houses filled with cuckoo clocks, too." I felt silly because "autobahn" actually means highway and there are numerous ones throughout Germany. It isn't this one particular street there. It was a funny moment because I make fun of people who think Texans ride horses to school and wear cowboy hats everyday and here I was doing the same thing to the Germans. Good times...good times!<br />We slept in "swags" which are heavy duty sleeping bags under the stars. Most everyone was already asleep as I got into my swag except for Richard. He was doing meditation breathing on the table and looking over us. I still didn't know much about Richard at this time and thought he was a bit peculiar so I just said goodnight and got into my swag. About 15 minutes later I heard him walking around the camp fire and blessing the campsite. He was chanting and praying that the bad spirits would leave us alone tonight, etc. I was laying there like (WTF is this guy doing??). Finally I drifted to sleep....<br /><br /><strong>Day 2</strong><br />We all woke up to the sunrising. I mentioned to Kate about what I heard Richard doing the night before, but we both agreed that we had slept really well...so maybe his blessings did work. This was the day that we were going to Uluru (Ayer's Rock). I am going to call it Uluru from now on because that is the aboriginal term and the community is trying hard to bring back to aboriginal names to the land. The history and culture of the aboriginals is so complex that there is no way I will be able to explain everything I learned on the tour in this blog. I only learned a tip of the ice burg and it was so incredibly interesting that I could spend years traveling around the Australian land gaining more insight into one of the oldest cultures in the world (if not the oldest..still up for debate). Aboriginal findings date back to 40-50,000 years ago!!!! There were 1000s of different tribes covering the lands and each had their own dialect, stories, customs, etc. They lived off of the land and the land provided back for them. They worked as a community and the men and woman respected each other because they knew they needed one another to continue on. Depending on what day you were born decided your name and what skill set and responsibilities you were given. For 1000s of years they roamed the lands up until the 1800s when the white man came to Australia. The white man brought with them cattle and started cattle ranches. The aboriginals had never seen a white man before and they never had to compete for resources of the land. The cultures collided and everything that the aboriginals lived for were taken away. White man introduced alcohol which changed the entire dynamic of the aboriginal tribes. Their bodies could not digest the substance easily and it caused major violence and disturbance within the tribes themselves. Many kids were abused and mistreated. Missionaries soon moved in to help "solve" the problems. There were good things and bad things that came from the missionaries....they did help the mistreated children, but they also provoked new religion and the curiosity changed the way the aboriginals have taught and learned the culture for 1000s of years. The racial tension continued to grow deeper and deeper and a lot of aboriginals got a bad rap because of the substance abuse. Even my guide, Geoff, explained that a majority of Australians grow up with this racial view of the aboriginals. He did as well and it wasn't until he moved to The Outback that he started to understand the complexities of it all and have a better understanding of the people. Finally, a few people in the government realized that the white man messed up and started giving the aboriginal people money for the harm done. They thought the money could be used to build communities and get their lives back together. The government treated the Aboriginal people as one group, even though there were 1000s of different tribes with specific needs and vastly different from one another. Aboriginal people never lived in houses before and didn't use money. This just gave them more accessibility to alcohol and drove them farther away from their roots. It really wasn't until tourism began and the outside world took a major interest in the aboriginal culture for the government to seriously take a look at the situation. Now that the government had a chance to make money on the aboriginals, and had the expectations from the outside world, they decided to try to work with the aboriginals and bring back some of the culture. Uluru is an area of land that the aboriginals won back in court. However, since it is a National Park area, the government still has a part of what happens on the land. The aboriginals don't have the infrastructure to handle all of the tourism so the government leads that area. Basically, the government still controls everything even though it is aboriginal land.<br />I know that is a lot of information and that isn't even half of the complex situation that I learned. Geoff was really good about making us think about the situation and explaining the history and why things were the way they were now. He fell into the same racial tension that a majority of others did and it has taken him a few years to think differently. He said that next time you see them in town don't judge them on the way they smell or look and if they are drunk...have an open mind and understand the situation that has led a lot of them to this stage. Also, this is only a small fraction of the people and they give a misconception of what the culture is really about. The mentality is changing for the better but it will take years for any major progress and it is the tourism and education of the visitors that are the ones truly helping. Aboriginal culture is still hardly addressed in Australian education and I think that is the first place that it should be addressed.<br />UUuuuggggg! It was so frustrating to learn about all of this and see exactly where the problems started, but the entanglement of issues from all different directions made me realize that there were no easy answers or solutions.<br />We spent that whole day walking around Uluru and hearing spiritual stories that the aboriginals would tell based on the formations. For lunch, we had a traditional Barbie overlooking Uluru. I had given Geoff a hard time about the perfection of a BBQ since I was from Texas. So, I was quickly nicknamed "Texas" and he put me in charge of the barbie for lunch. I must say...it was a pretty good meal :) After lunch we visited the aboriginal community center which was run by aboriginals and white men together. I browsed all of the art and crafts (the art is some of my favorite that I have seen and someday I will own some pieces in my home). We went to a lookout to watch the sunset over Uluru....the rich red color of the stone came out as the sunset reflected off of it. For dinner, we had kangaroo spaghetti for dinner and told more stories around the campfire. We reflected back on the day and the interesting things we learned. Geoff told us to draw some art in the sand the way the aboriginals did to express how we were feeling that night.<br /><br /><strong>Day 3</strong><br />The next day we woke up really early to drive out and watch the sunrise at a lookout where you could see Uluru and Kata Tjuta. After that we drove to Kata Tjuta (which is a mountain range of sandstone/conglomerate domes). The area is sacred to the aboriginals, but they have opened up 3 of the domes for us to walk around and visit. Geoff continued telling us the spiritual side of the area and then the geological reasoning behind the formations as well. We hiked to an area called the "Valley of the Winds". Richard walked away on his own and looked as though he was meditating. Later he told me how he was listening to the spirits out there and they were angry and wished people would not talk so much. They just wanted to rest...day after day..everyday of the year there are people stomping all over the sacred area and talking...not noticing the true beauty of silence. This got me a little worried because there have been many situations where people have taken rocks from Uluru and their lives were filled with badluck. I hoped that we didn't disrespect any of the spirits at Kata Tjuta. The last thing I needed on my travels was bad luck.<br />Today we would lose half of the group who only signed up for the 3 day tour. We would also change into a smaller safari jeep and 2 new people would join us. Geoff was disappointed about adding new people because this is the stage of the trip where you advance into a more intimate group and he was afraid the new comers would not mesh well.<br />We said our goodbyes to our new friends and wished everyone well. The group condensed down to Richard, Kate, Ines, Julia, Anna, and Me. We all got along well and were excited to spend 2 more days together. We all were uniquely close to one another even though we had only known each other a couple days. Even Geoff commented how neat it was that we all got along so well. The newcomers were Becks and Dave. They were both from Sydney and pretty nice, but their personalities didn't click well with any of us. To say it nicely, Becks was a know-it-all and they were pretty in your face about everything. We had all been in The Outback for 3 days and were pretty chilled out....they were wiry city folks who jumped in. I am a pretty tolerant person and try to stay positive all the time, and they even got on my nerves a bit. However, we all tried our best to welcome them to the group given the circumstances.<br />We transferred all of our belongings to a small safari jeep and headed out to our next stop. About 1 hour into driving a rock hit the back window and it shattered. We had to make-shift a window cover with carpet and tarp. Then, Geoff realized he forgot all of his belongings in the other truck....you could tell that Geoff was frustrated with the entire situation, but he handled himself well and managed to tuck us into our swags that night and send us off with an aboriginal bedtime story.<br /><br /><strong>Day4</strong><br />This morning we took a cultural walk with an aboriginal named Craig. His family had gone to court for 8 years and managed to gain back some of their tribal land from the government in the 80s. He was of mixed race and his grandfather was a white cattle man. They grew up farming and raising cattle and still continued that on the land, but now they were able to incorporate their tribal customs back into their lives. The aboriginal community that he was from lived back on the land again. Craig was a captivating speaker who had a lot of passion of continuing the knowledge and education of the aboriginal people. He was slightly out casted at first when he started doing cultural tours on the land, but he felt that the awareness of the history and culture was important to helping to bring those customs back. We went hiking and he showed us cave paintings and drew stories in the sand. We went hunting for fossils and he explained the rituals and customs of his specific tribe. He also talked about incorporating the aboriginal culture into todays world. There were many things that I learned that day, but one thing that sticks out to me is they way that Craig never blamed the white man for how life is today. He didn't show anger or defeat about how history had taken place. Yes, the aboriginals had been through a devestating past, but they too needed to help themselves to continue on. He explained that there were good things and bad things to the situations that took place and that progression was only natural. There was no way they could go back to the way things were in the 1800s because of the awareness they now had of the outside world. So instead of mourning about it the rest of his life, he is doing what he can to continue the culture and rituals with the way the world is today. He hopes that the aboriginal culture continues on for many more years to come and that it doesn't become extinct like many of the world's past civilizations.<br />After the interesting cultural experience, we headed out to the Larapinta River (also known as the Fink River). Anthropologists, scientists, and geologists have dated this river back to being the OLDEST RIVER IN THE WORLD!!!! Crazy, right? It was a dried up river bed when we visited and only has water when the rains come through the desert. The last major rain was last November. On our way to the river a tire blew on the jeep. Poor Geoff....he was faced with a lot of obstacles on this tour. Fortunetaly, we were an easy-going bunch and thought that everything added to the adventure. After hiking around the Larapinta Trail, we went to go find our camp. It became dark and we had to off-road to get to the camp site. We ended up getting totally stuck in the sand. Poor Poor Geoff......the tires were half-way deep into sand and the only way out was digging. We worked as a team trying to get the jeep unstuck. As we were doing this we finally looked up to see the stars above us. I have never seen the sky so clear...it was as if we could see every star in the sky. I felt like I could almost touch the milky way.<br />It was about this time that I got the rumble in my stomach. My bowel movements had been sketchy since we started camping and I took a few immodium the first day because I didn't want any trouble. Well, my body was finally trying to tell me that it was time to go...I needed a toilet quickly. All of our campsites the previous nights had bathrooms that you could walk to so I really wasn't that worried. Then, Kate notified my that the campsite for tonight was not going to have a bathroom and we need to go in the bush. "Ummmmm seriously???" I thought to myself. I was pissed because only an hour ago we were at a decent bathroom, but I just told myself to wait till we got to camp and now I wouldn't even have a bathroom to go to. When we arrived to camp, Geoff told us to go over that hill to to use the bathroom and dig a whole with the shovel, etc. I asked him for some toilet paper....however, the toilet paper and been misplaced so we didn;t have any. He handed me a bit of coarse paper and told me that would have to do. Fortunetaly, the guys all left to go collect firewood and the girls remained to setup camp and start dinner. So it was the perfect time for me to go. I walked over to this hill that I thought he told me to go to and dug a hole and did my business. At the same time, a huge gust of wind came through right as I did so and I heard all the girls start chuckling because they could totally smell it. (sorry I know this is gross, but this is the story of my life). I was completely mortified....here I was in the middle of the outback with a shovel and a hole and a huge gust of wind had to come at the particular moment. I think the spirits were upset with us afterall. I made a mound of dirt over the hole to keep in any other smells and went back to camp. Later I realized I had gone in the wrong spot and dug my hole right where Geoff was planning on camping. I told him that it may be better if he chose a different area.<br /><br /><strong>Day5</strong><br />Our final and last day in The Outback! We went hiking through a gorge and to a place called Palm Valley, which has palm trees unique to that area only. While we were there we were confronted by a kangaroo only feet away from us. We startled him and he took off running around us and up into the mountains. We had seen several kangaroos during out tour, but none this close and personal. On our way back to Alice Springs, I sat up front next to El Jefe and we talked about our lives and the past 5 days. I couldn't believe it was all coming to an end. It was such an amazing adventure filled with culture and friends. I especially had a good time because it was nice to meet people and build a special relationship with them and then to share the experiences together. During my travels, I see and experience a lot of things on my own and it is nice sometimes to share these moments with others. We may have only known each other for a few days but we all developed an intimate bond with one another.<br />Geoff talked about the trip because he too noticed the ease of friendship that was developed and all the obstacles he was faced with. He enjoyed our group because we all worked together and he was there in the present with us instead of thinking of when the tour would be over, etc. (like he often thinks when he is on tour). During our tour, the song Cecilia by Simon & Garfunkle was the song that was always in our heads. We would play it on the Ipod or someone would be humming it around camp. On our drive back home, Cecilia came on the radio again and we turned up the volume and sang it all together at the top of our lungs...laughing histerically.<br />That night we all met up for a farewll dinner to share stories and say our goodbyes. There was a live band playing and Richard sneaked off to make a request. A few minutes later we had the band asking for us to get on stage. We were all a bit mortified, but Richard (who never gets embarresed) was standing up with a big grin on his face. He had requested Cecilia and asked that we all go and dance together. There were about 60 other people in the bar who were not dancing....but we all got up anyways and danced in a circle singing Cecilia. I was laughing so hard that I was crying.<br />Geoff had asked us to figure out a group name, he liked naming the groups so he could identify them. After a few beers together, it was pretty easy to decide that we would be named "Team: Cecilia"Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-83748625456152775662009-04-29T16:38:00.000-07:002009-05-04T18:50:49.163-07:00NZ's Top 10In a tribute to my last post about New Zealand...I have decided to blog about 10 things that I think are <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">corky</span>, weird, interesting, or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">badass</span> about the country. It is kind of like David Letterman's top 10 list, but it is Andrea <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Galant's</span> list of random things about NZ in no particular order. I hope you enjoy. (Since I started writing this blog, I am now in Australia....some of the things below also pertain to Australia, but since I was introduced to them in NZ....that is where I will give credit. Sorry Aussies...I visited the Kiwi's first!)<br /><br />1. HITCHING<br />Where else can you hitch safely in the world....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ummmm</span> NO WHERE ELSE!<br />The crime rate is so low here it is kind of scary. Don't people ever trip out and go 'postal"...well, with only 4 million people living here, gorgeous scenery, and a laid back lifestyle.....you begin to understand that they have something figured out that most of the world is missing.<br />The other day (after an unsuccessful attempt at seeing whales in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kaikoura</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">bc</span> the weather was too bad) I ended up getting side tracked and missed my bus to Christchurch. Normally this would not have been a problem, because I would have just gotten the next bus out, but it was my first time in NZ that I had someone picking me up from the station. Of course, the first time I have some sort of accountability and I miss my dang bus. No worries though, I called the girl that was picking me up and sorted it out. Then realized there were no <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">buses</span> out the rest of that day. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Soooooo</span>...here it was...my ultimate hitchhiking trip looking me in the face. I was alone and I had to get to Christchurch, which was 2 hours away...hitching was my only option. It took about 30 seconds for Niel from the UK to pull over and give me a ride. We had a great chat and I made it to my destination safely. I hope that hitching remains a safe form of transport for many years to come in NZ.<br /><br />2. WORDS<br />My friend Alan is kind of a linguist...he has studied several languages. He always thinks it is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">interesting</span> to hear the different words that are used around the world. Below is a list of words that we came up with that are different then what we say in the states.<br /><br />American-New Zealand<br />diaper-nappies<br />bell pepper-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">capsicum</span><br />thanks - cheers<br />friend - mate<br />that's cool - "good on ya"<br />How are you doing? - How ya going?<br />"for here or to go" - "dine in or take-away"<br />sweet potato - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">kumara</span><br />pickle-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">gerkin</span><br />ketchup-tomato sauce<br />intersection-junction<br />yellow light-amber light (in reference to stop lights)<br />napkin-serviette<br />zucchini-courgette<br />gasoline-petrol<br />fries-chips<br />chips-crisps<br />cookies-biscuits<br />candy-lollies<br />hiking-tramping<br />to have dinner - to have tea<br />trunk-boot<br />great-brilliant<br />a lot - heaps<br />intense - full on<br />calm down - easy on<br />convenient store - dairy<br />real - proper<br />whine-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">whindge</span><br />trash - rubbish<br />salty - savory<br />granola - muesli<br />thrift store - opportunity store<br />awesome - "sweet as..bro!"<br /><br />3. CURRENCY<br />The currency is similar to the states except that they do not have pennies. Their smallest currency is a 10 cent coin. Which I think it really awesome because pennies are just a hassle anyways. The only thing that does not make sense is that they still price goods in cents....so something may cost $3.99 or you may get some tomatoes for $2.32....so then you wonder, how can I pay you 2.32 when I don't have any pennies. Well it's easy, you just round to the nearest 10<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">th</span>. So that would be 2.30 cents. Now, why the hell don't they just price it to $2.30 cents to begin with?<br /><br />4. Adding an "R" to words that end in "A" ex: Australia=<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Australi'r</span> or India=<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Indi'r</span> or Olivia Newton John= <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Olivi'r</span> Newton John<br />I think that this takes place in both New Zealand and Australia.....people say these words with such confidence that I haven't got the heart to ask them why??? WHY PUT AN "R" AT THE END OF THE WORD??? Finally, I asked my Aussie friend, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Kirsty</span> about the weird phenomenon and she didn't even know what I was talking about. So I started to point it out when she would put the "r" on the end of words. Once she realized the odd pronunciation, she explained that if a word ends in "a", then they will put an "r" at the end of the word only if it is followed by another word because they are lazy and it is easier for them to pronounce it that way with their accent. So, there you go....the official answer by a true Australian!<br /><br />5. SOCIAL <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">HEALTH CARE</span><br />Among many things, they have gotten the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">health care</span> figured out pretty good. It is all socialized and from talking to the locals, they think positively about the system. Even if they have to ride in an ambulance, the government asks for a donation instead of demanding payment. When a woman has a baby, they have a program in which they send someone over to help get the new mother started in caring for the child....for a few weeks she has help getting <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">acquainted</span> with her new life. All of this is part of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">health care</span> program. Keep in mind, though, the country is small with only 4 million people. On top of that, they don't have a huge military cost. So, with those factors involved...it makes it easy to manage social <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">health care</span> without having ridiculous tax costs. Even the Kiwi's agreed that it would probably not be as successful in a larger country such as the States. But still, I am a bit jealous....<br /><br />6.FLAVORED TUNA CANS<br />Now, I have never seen these in the States before, but they may be in existence. Sorry if this is not unique to this part of the world, but it is where I was introduced to this glorious product.<br />They have cans of tuna here that are already flavored. For instance, you can get tomato & basil tuna, savory onion tuna, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Mexican</span> tuna salad, sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Thai</span> chili tuna, lemon/pepper tuna, sun dried tomato & olive tuna.....etc. I have been living off of this stuff since I got here. You just buy some crackers and a can and you don't even need any utensils to eat a nice meal. I know that the states have flavored tuna in those pouches, but I have never seen them in the can...AND with this many options. Come on States....get with the program.....flavor the tuna in the cans! If you don't think there is a market for it, then you are wrong. Andrea <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Galant</span> will keep you in business.<br /><br />7. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">MARMITE</span><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Marmite</span> is a spread made from yeast extracts, a by-product of beer brewing. In researching this product, I now realize that it originated in the UK. However, New Zealand developed a different version of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">marmite</span> in 1919 so that is the one that I am referring to :)<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Nikal</span>, this girl I stayed with in Christchurch, gave me my first taste of this "savory" spread. Remember the word section...savory means salty! Really really SALTY!!!!! You toast some bread, spread some butter on it, and then spread a thin layer of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">marmite</span> over that. Honestly, I didn't mind it too much. I like salty food so I wasn't repulsed by the taste. I imagine it to be like beer....it is an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">acquired</span> taste. I am sure if I lived in New Zealand long enough I would have began eating it on a regular basis.<br />Oh who am I kidding....the spread was weird!! I would prefer butter and jam over <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">marmite</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">any day</span>!<br /><br />8. TRAMPING (hiking)<br />New Zealand has gotten the tramping thing figured out. They have 100s of trails throughout the country. They spend a lot of money on national park preservation and trail maintenance. If you are a beginner (such as myself), they have plenty of trails that are well marked and easy to get to. If you are an experienced tramper - they have trails for you too. You can do your own navigation and use survival techniques to get through the tramp. Since the country is not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">densely</span> populated, you can walk days without ever seeing any sign of civilization. I think that New Zealand has some of the best hiking in the world!<br /><br />9. ONE-HANDED SAUCE PACKETS<br />This is one of the more "brilliant" ideas I have discovered in New Zealand. One night after a few beers, Alan and I attended a professional rugby match. We waited in line to get some chicken n' chips. The lady handed me the basket of food with these unique looking sauce packets. I stared at the packets inquisitively for a few moments. Then realized that all I had to do was squeeze the packet with one-hand, over my food and out came the sauce. You don't have to tear the packet open or anything. At the exact same time I was pondering this, I heard Alan behind me ask the same questions out loud that went through my head. "These are weird packets...I wonder how you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">WOOOOOOWWWWW</span> Shit!" I looked back to see that Alan had figured out how they worked as he squirted himself in the face with the sauce. They work really good if you have them aimed towards the food.<br />I am actually really surprised that the Americans didn't come up with this invention first. It is a way to get the food into your mouth sooner...with less effort. How much lazier can we get! Such a fantastic idea.<br /><br />10. SWEET THAI CHILI SAUCE<br />So this one I have as number 10 and it is actually the final and the best thing that I have discovered in New Zealand. Yes, I realize that we have sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Thai</span> chili sauce in America....you can pick it up at any Asian market or the ethnic food isle in the grocery store. But I don't think Americans have realized how amazing this sauce is. Since New Zealand is so close to South East Asia, they have a lot of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">Asian</span> restaurants and street vendors. They have incorporated some of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Asian</span> foods into <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">every day</span> life, such as Sweet Thai Chili Sauce. I first discovered this sauce when I ordered some "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">kumara</span>" wedges. I asked for tomato sauce since that is clearly the best thing that goes on wedges. The lady told me that each packet of tomato sauce was .40 cents each, but that the wedges came with sour cream and sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">Thai</span> chili sauce. I thought this was the strangest combination of foods ever, but I decided to try it out. OH MY <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">GOODNESS</span>! The fusion of flavors in my mouth exploded. Salty, sweet, with cold sour cream to combine the textures.....so amazing! It was much better then boring old ketchup. Since that experience, I started noticing Sweet Thai Chili Sauce everywhere. People put it on everything. I bought a bottle and started spicing up my meals at the hostels....its great on steamed veggies, in soup, on chicken or fish, on kebabs...you can put it on almost anything! The sauce is even an option at Subway...mayo, mustard, or sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">Thai</span> chili? Let me just say...during this cultural journey that I am on right now I am bound to take a few things back home with me. New thoughts, perceptions, ideas, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">philosophies</span>......and sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">Thai</span> chili sauce!<br /><br />I hope you enjoyed my top 10 list of random things from New Zealand. This country was amazing and there are 1000s of wonderful reasons to go and visit the place. The things that I listed above were just a few that I experienced and thought that I should share. Most guide books or professional travelers would tell you about the highest peaks, deepest lakes, or strongest waterfalls, but me, Andrea <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">Galant</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">amateur</span> travel writer and spiritual learner) wants to take you off the beaten path and give you some real insight into the places that I visit.<br /><br /><strong>On to Australia......</strong><br />After immigrations during the Swine Flu fiasco (actually it was one of the easiest immigrations ever. I just had to walk through a thermal chamber and they tested to see my body temperature.) I am now in Sydney, Australia and staying with my friend <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">Kirsty</span>. Some of you may have met <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">Kirsty</span> when she lived in Austin a few years ago, but she returned home to Australia and is now married and expecting her first child. She has a wonderful condo near Dee Why Beach and her and her husband, Glen, have been fantastic hosts. They drove me around the city and up to the Blue Mountains. For the next few days I am going to travel to the city on my own and see some of the world famous sites, like the Opera House, Harbour Bridge, and Aquarium.<br />You know that image you get in your head when you picture what a place looks like. Well, my image of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">Sydney</span> is true... Good looking men, surfers, beaches, street cafes, sunny weather, rolling hills, cliffs, harbours, sailboats, did I mention good looking men?......it is all true! The image that I had is exactly what this place actually looks like.<br />Cheers mates....GOOD ON YA!Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-53446392763024707242009-04-22T22:58:00.000-07:002009-04-23T02:44:19.405-07:00Slow my roll.....Since you are sitting there reading this blog right now, you can safely assume that I survived the Milford hike. It was my first multi-day hike that I did alone...well, sorta. There were about 40 other people hiking the track on the same days as me and we would all meet at the shelter each night to sleep. So, even though I was hiking hours a day alone, there was some accountability for where I was and people were aware of the other hikers on the track.<br />Still, it was a really unique experience for me. I carried my own pack, cooked my own food, and was the sole person responsible for myself. I was even in charge of talking to myself on the hikes for 6 hours a day...it was beautiful, cold, rainy, sunny, awesome, exuberant, refreshing, and well....just a tad bit lonely, I must admit. One of the things that I have been struggling with on my travels is wishing that I had some family or friends to experience some of the things with me.....if only I could borrow my mother's eyes for a day and have her look at the view I was looking at. Or how fun would it be to have Carly and Robin out with me for a night in Queenstown? I think about this a lot. Even though I meet a lot of people and share many experiences with them, it isn't the same as your close family and friends. A cool thing about this hike though, was that my sister-in-law had completed it a few years ago. So every time I had one of those moments where I wish I could share it with someone close....I would remember that Kelley had been here and done this before. She would understand where I walked and what I had seen.<br />Of the 4 days that I was hiking....4 of the days it rained. And I am not talking about drizzle....RAIN...raining to the point that everything I owned and was carrying with me was soaked. Even though I had on rainproof gear, I didn't stand a chance. Everything was wet....and at night it would half-ass dry, but it didn't matter because I would walk right back into the rain again for another long day of wetness. It is not that surprising that it rained, though. 200 days of the year it rains in the Milford area. In fact, if you do the hike with no rain at all, then you have actually not hiked the Milford Track (at least that is what the rangers say to cheer you up each night). Rainfall can reach up to 6,800 mm (Approx 270 inches) per year. Austin, TX has an average of 32-48 inches per year...so yeah.. it rains a lot here. The environment is plush and green and wet everywhere...100s maybe 1000s of waterfalls surround you throughout the hike. There were several moments when I would be looking down, watching my steps meticulously (since it was slick) and then I would stop to look up....and see waterfalls pouring down the cliffs all around me. WOW...I would just stand there in the rain amazed at how alive everything was...the water rushing everywhere. I have some <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/andrea.galant/NZMilfordTrack#">pictures</a> of the falls, but they don't give any justice to the depth of what I was looking at. SO MUCH WATER....EVERYWHERE! Gushing so hard that you think it should all stop sometime since there is no way there could really be this much water...when would it run out? But in the 4 days I was there it didn't stop once....there was never even a hesitation of the water stopping. Meanwhile, the birds would still whistle and fly around as if it was a bright sunny day outside...they understood the environment they lived in....truly amazing!<br />One night, it was raining so hard that the next morning our hut ranger, Ross, told us to wait a few hours before we started hiking. He wanted to see if the rain would calm...because the rivers flooded bad in this section and it could get dangerous. If the rain continued at this level, then we would have to be flown out by helicopters (which I thought would be equally as cool as doing the hike). After a few hours, he said he was going to hike to the rivers to check them out...we were more then welcome to follow along. A couple "go- getters" jumped up and started following him immediately, and since I was alone and only had to take care of myself, I happened to be ready as well. So, there I was...following the ranger and a couple experienced hikers to go "check out" the trail....as if I were really qualified for any sort of danger that may be ahead. Fortunately, there wasn't any major danger....a few trees had fallen in the track that we had to move and the flooding wasn't bad enough that they needed to call in the "copters". The water only went up to our THIGHS at the river crossings so apparently that was not helicopter status. Yes folks, I was proud of this moment....I truly feel like I have hiked in New Zealand now. I had to hold my pack up and walk through a flooded river that went up to my thighs. One of the couples with us took off their boots as if they weren't going to get wet with all the rain....I just looked at them like they were idiots and plunged into the river with my shoes and pants and everything on. It was adventurous and crazy and fun!!!! I felt like an avid hiker :)<br />Overall, the Milford Track was a great experience and I am glad to add it to my list of adventures during my travels. It is rated one of the most famous tracks in the world and with some of the views that I saw....I can understand why.<br />After the hike, I went back to the small town of Te Anau....bought a bottle of wine and decided to do laundry to wash all my nasty clothes. Now that I was on my own, I really didn't have a plan. I didn't know where I should head the next day or what I should do. I figured that after my laundry, I would go to the internet and book a bus ticket out of town towards Dunedin. I really wanted to hitch a ride, but I wasn't brave enough to hitch alone....I kept going back and forth about it. I met this chick named Laura when doing my laundry. She was a witty girl and I couldn't place her English accent. Turns out, she was born in Germany, spent some time living in USA, then moved to South Africa and now resides in France. Her father works for some big USA corporation and they moved around frequently. Because of this, she knows 3 languages fluently and flips back and forth speaking them all the time. She speaks German with her mother, English with her father, and French with her sister. We hit it off immediately and both had the same sense of humor about things. You could tell she was easy going, laid back and up for whatever....she had traveled a lot and didn't expect much from people and went with the flow. After chit-chatting, she asked if I wanted to go grab a beer with her and some friends. I explained to her my dilemma of leaving the next day and if I were to get the bus, then it left at 7am....so I probably shouldn't go out..blah blah blah. She said fair enough...they would be at the bar if I was interested. I finished my laundry and headed to the computer to book my ticket....then it hit me. I had been alone for 4 days hiking in solitude...what the hell was I doing passing up an offer to the bar. I really could use a nice stout beer and some good conversation. I'll either hitch out of here tomorrow or book a ticket for the next day...regardless, it would work itself out somehow. I met Laura and her friends at the bar and had a few drinks. The beers were going down smoothly too...I have not been drinking much since I have been in NZ (giving the liver a little break), so after only 2 beers I was feeling pretty nice. There was a guy sitting next to us who seemed to be alone. I invited him over to our conversation. His name was Thomas and he was from Switzerland. After speaking with him for a bit I found out that he had his own car and was heading to Dunedin the next day. I was like...seriously? "I am trying to get to Dunedin...do you want some help with petrol (gas)?" And then like that....things worked themselves out. I paid Thomas $10NZ for the 4 hour ride which would have cost me $50NZ by bus.....so it worked out fine indeed.<br />Through my friend Brad, I had a hook-up with a place to stay in Dunedin. The girl had a flat in the city, but was currently doing her residency for med school in another city. So, she was not there at the moment, but she had 5 other flat mates and said just to go to her place and stay in her room. I felt a little strange doing this, as I had never met her and surely didn't know her flatmates either....but I thought it was cool that she offered her room and decided to check it out.<br />When I arrived to the house, there were trash bags filled with beer cans and wine bottles sprawled out on the front porch. There were about 6 vintage chairs/lazy boys surrounding a make-shift coffee table on the porch as well...all of this was next to the fridge (not one of those small office fridges, but a full-sized kitchen fridge)...all on the front porch! I had to smile to myself...I realized I would fit in just fine with these new random people that I would be staying with. I knocked on the door, but no one came. I knocked and rang the doorbell several other times, but still....no one came to the door. Hmmmmm....it was only 10:30am and from the looks of the front porch, everyone could easily still be sleeping. I peeked my head through the window just as I saw someone coming out of a bedroom and knocked again to get his attention. The guy came to the door with his hair all messed up and sleep still in his eyes. "Hi there, ....I'm friends (I guess) with Amelia and am staying in her room for a few days."...I was all smiley and chipper holding my bags...the guy was probably "who in the hell is this chick!". He mumbled something along the lines of..."cool...yeah..whatev...just.. you can go to her room." And then he left the door open and walked back into his room. So there I was, with my backpack, standing in this house....with not a damn clue which room was Amelia's. I decided to walk upstairs and that is where I ran into JD, the french dude. He was really cool and showed me her room. Then I met Kate, and some other guy who I can't remember his name. Anyways, it's a big house with 6 roommates and craziness all about. There is clutter and everyone's personality written all over it, but somehow the bathroom and kitchen are clean and it just seems like everything works together well....a good atmosphere and vibe. I felt like I was in college again...there was even a jar of condoms in the bathroom with a sign that read "no hubba hubba with out a rubba rubba". This would be my accommodation for the next few days and I thought it was awesome!<br />Dunedin was a cool city. It is a university town with a mixture of funky art, music, food, and theater. Gorgeous Victorian style homes fill the hilly neighborhoods...some kept up really well and others falling down in shambles. It was a good town to chill-out in for a few days...enough to do, but not too in your face.<br />One day I went on a tour to the Otago Peninsula about an hour away. Here I was able to see seals, sea lions, and yellow-eyed penguins. I have never been up close to that type of wildlife before and it was really cool. Penguins are soooo stinking cute. The way they wobble from the ocean to the land...trying to sneak by the sea lions and escape another day with out getting eaten. I even witnessed a sea lion take a huge crap on the beach. At first I thought something was wrong with him...then his face got stern and next thing I knew, out came a present. I have pics of the animals on <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/andrea.galant/NZOtagoPeninsulaArea#">Picasa</a> as well.<br />After a few site-seeing days in Dunedin it crept up to me again...this weird feeling that I have been getting every so often the past few weeks, but I have pushed it back deep inside my mind....there should be no reason that I am having this feeling and I am not going to face it right here...right now. It doesn't make sense to me.<br />Basically, everything around me is great...Before I left on my travels everything in my life was great as well. I had a family that loved and supported me, friends that I could count on, a stable job, lived in a fantastic city, rented out a comfortable house, boys to go out with....I mean what the heck else could a girl like me ask for? But even though I had all of this, I was unsatisfied and it lingered in the back of my mind. Why was I not content with my life?<br />I came to the conclusion that the life I was living couldn't be the final end all....there was more ...WAY MORE out there and I wanted to see it and live it before I got too comfortable where I was at. So I planned this trip that I am on now....when I arrived to South America I was on a high for 4 months experiencing the culture, people, food, language....it was exactly what I needed at that moment in my life. I was getting the satisfaction that I was craving. And now, here I am again...6.5 months later and I sense that feeling coming up in the back of my throat and I don't want to say that it is happening again because it doesn't make any sense to me. How can I not be satisfied with my life right now.....I am on a year holiday!!!! This is EXACTLY what I asked for!!!!<br />I have been doing a lot of thinking the past few days and trying to figure out the sensations and feelings I am having and getting to the bottom of it...I think what it is, is that I am over the whole "tourist" thing. I walk aimlessly through city streets watching people, drink lattes, read tons of books, visit museums, go on multi day hikes, and venture to the next town to do the same thing over and over and over again. It is wonderful....a fantastic holiday, but can I move like this for the next 10 months? Was the real purpose of my journey to take tourbusses out to the ocean and stare at sea lions for 1 year? I am sick of site-seeing....I am ready to "live" amongst people and "do" something during my travels. Not just stick my nose in guide books and carry a city map in my hand 24/7. I have decided that I need to slow my travels down and get involved with some of the communities that I visit. Perhaps I will volunteer, or take classes, or work....but just do something that I am accountable for. Instead of being a tourist, I will be more like a short-term resident. The world is a big place and I can't see all of it on this trip....I don't even want to try to see half of it. Quality overrides quantity for me right now!<br />As we all know, I enjoyed my time in Banos, Ecuador. I was taking Spanish classes and getting to know people in the town....I had my favorite places to eat and knew all of the hikes in the area. On the weekends I would travel to nearby towns and visit other places. Banos was my "hub" and my time there was perfect...it was enough time to figure out the city, but I left before it became monotonous and routine. I think it's time for something like that again....a place to slow my roll....breath...and not worry about what bus to take and what village to breeze through tomorrow. I have a few more days in NZ and then I head to Australia to visit a dear friend in Sydney. My time in Australia will be short as it is fairly expensive to travel there , but once I get to SE Asia I hope to slow it down a notch. I am making some contacts for volunteer opportunities, but since I am not affiliated with a church it may be difficult. I also found some cooking classes in Cambodia & Vietnam...that could be another unique way to get to know a city. Those are my thoughts right now about things...so...thanks for listening.<br />Anyways, in a few days I will be heading to a town called Kaikoura. You can take a boat out in the ocean and there is a 98% you will see killer and blue whales. I know, I know.... I said I was sick of tours and site-seeing....BUT WHALES????Seriously? Besides Sea World, I have never witnessed a whale sighting....so yes, I am pretty excited about it. I can play "tourist" for a little bit longer I suppose :)Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-27243964448310501192009-04-12T20:14:00.000-07:002009-04-13T19:15:00.528-07:00Movies, Hiking & ZivWe made our way to the small town of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Wanaka</span>. It is surrounded by mountains and is right next to Lake <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Wanaka</span> which is this gorgeous glacier lake. It is a town where a lot of people move to when they want to escape the hustle and bustle of its larger neighbor, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Queenstown</span>. I spent my time there hiking and reading and enjoying the lake views. There was this fun place called Puzzling World with a huge maze that takes and hour to get out of and tons of optical illusion type activities. It showed how they made the hobbits look smaller in Lord of the Rings and stuff like that. It was a fun, non-outdoor activity for the day. Another awesome thing about <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Wanaka</span> is that it is home to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Presidio</span>.....the coolest movie theatre in the world. At least the coolest theatre I have ever been to. It has one screen and shows 3 movies each day. They gutted out the chairs and replaced them with vintage sofas and seats...they are all super worn and comfortable. They sell beer, wine, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">homemade</span> ice-cream. During intermission, they have fresh baked cookies that are super huge and to die for. For $3 a cookie, the must make a killing. I think that they have a vent from the oven going directly into the theatre so you can smell them baking while you watch the movie. I thought this theatre was so fantastic that I saw a movie there for 3 of the 4 days I spent in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Wanaka</span>. I would hike by day and watch movies by night. I saw Gran <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Torino</span>, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and Changeling. And yes, I got a cookie at every intermission....I thought about those cookies all day long while I was hiking :)<br /><br />After <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Wanaka</span>, we headed to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Queenstown</span>, since we were scheduled for a multi-day hike out of that city. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Queenstown</span> is the infamous party, adventure city of New Zealand. I have heard that you either love it or hate it. Well....after about 5 minutes in the city I decided that I was in love!!!! It was definitely bigger then <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Wanaka</span> and a lot more obnoxious. You can <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">bungee</span> jump, sky dive, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">para glide</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">repel</span> down canyons, jet boat, and anything else that you can think of. During the summer they hang out in the glacier lake and in the winter they <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">snow ski</span> on the surrounding mountains. There are over 40 bars, tons of restaurants and shopping around.....it was a functioning city surrounded by gorgeous New Zealand views. I understood why so many people were drawn to it and why others may be a bit put-off. In our hostel, we made friends with this Israeli guy named <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Ziv</span>. He <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">happened</span> to be doing the same hike as we were planning on doing so we started hanging out with him. Alan had also made friends with this Swedish girl named <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Mikeala</span>. She was traveling around NZ doing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">WWOOFing</span>, which is where you work on organic farms for free while the owners feed you and give you shelter. She signed up for the hike as well so we had a group of 4. The day before we left, we ran around the city getting our hut passes and grocery shopping for the hike. This would be my first multi-day hike in which I had to carry everything and fend for myself....there was no guide or porter service. I had been hiking a lot so I felt that physically I would be able to handle it. To splurge one last time before we left civilization, we went to this famous burger place called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Furburgers</span>. We figured it would be a good place to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">carb</span> load and get some energy for the mountains. There was one burger there called Big Al's. It was the ultimate burger with 2 patties, 2 fried eggs, cheese, bacon, beets, lettuce, tomato, onion, and mayo. It was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">heart attack</span> in a bun! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Ziv</span> said that he did not half-ass anything when it came to food and that you were either a Big Al or a Big Loser....so he ordered the ultimate burger. When I saw this thing I thought that there was no way in hell he was going to be able to finish it. Well, he proved me wrong, not only did he finish the whole thing, but he ate it in less then 10 minutes...we had hardly started into our regular burgers. I laughed saying that he would not have to eat for days...and that is when he realized that it was Passover. He was supposed to go have a holiday dinner with some other Jewish people in town....This was one of my first introductions to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Ziv</span>, the crazy Israeli guy that I would be traveling with for the next week.<br /><br />During my travels, I have met tons of German, Swiss, & Israeli people. Before New Zealand, I have never really hung out with anyone from Israel and I don't have many Jewish friends back home. I have heard many stereotypes along my way ....that they travel in groups, talk really loud, and negotiate every price...VERY cheap! I am not big into stereotypes, but that is what I had been told by other travelers. I take it all with a grain of salt, because I am American and there are tons of stereotypes about us along the traveling circuit as well. Anyways, in the past month I have met several Israeli travelers and they could not be farther from the stereotypes. In fact, they have been generous with everything and were extremely nice people. I actually realized that maybe we had a common thread since we both came from countries where our governments are extremely involved in world relations and there is a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">pre</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">conceived</span> notion about us simply because of where we are from. As an American, I am constantly being asked questions about my government, Obama, the economy...people quizzing me on life back home and why we are ignorant to the world around us. It gets old pretty fast....<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">I've</span> got my answers down pat and rattle them off to the new people that I meet. I hope that by the time I walk away, they have a different view of America and they question the stereotypes that they have been taught. I think that Israeli people go through a similar process in traveling. When you sit down and really talk to someone on a personal level you realize they are just humans...they go through the same emotions and stages of life as everyone else...regardless of where you are from.<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Ziv</span> was the first Israeli that I spent a good amount of time with. He was such a unique character. He is extremely goofy and acts <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">aloof</span> most of the time, but is actually very quick and intelligent. English is his second language behind Hebrew. I have never met someone who is so witty with a second language. Most people know <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">English</span>, but can't bring humor into the conversation naturally. For instance, I will never be cleverly funny when I speak <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Spanish</span> because I am concentrating on speaking correctly....it will never be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">innate</span> for me. But <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Ziv</span> was hilarious! He had just gotten out of the mandated-Israeli military a year ago...so most of his sentences or conversations started with " Well, when I was in the military...." Everything we talked about somehow related back to the military, but I suppose that was his life for the past 3 years and is a major part of growing up in Israel since everyone has to do it.<br />So we had our group of 4 for the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Routeburn</span> Track. This would be my first multi-day hike on my own...no guide...no porter service...NADA. I had to carry everything on my back to survive for the next 3 days. Thank goodness I had 3 other friends hiking with me...because I learned a few things along the way. First of all...as naive as it sounds, I didn't realize the whole concept of what ever you bring into the nature you need to take out of the nature...such as trash. So whatever I ate or used I had to carry with me for the entire hike. If I peeled an orange or had a can of tuna...I would carry the remnants with me. There were bathrooms at the huts with septic tanks so I did not have to carry the T.P. with me, but otherwise, you couldn't leave anything else <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">behind</span>. Second thing that I didn't take into account while hiking was that you needed to bring your own cooking utensils. I was stocked up on my food, but I didn't have a pot, cup, or utensils to cook and eat with. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">DUHHHH</span> ANDREA...did I think that all this stuff would magically appear in the forest? I am not sure what I was thinking, but my friends had some things that I could use. I was definitely an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">amateur</span> at this hiking thing, but I learned a lot and will be more prepared next time around.<br />Our last night of the hike, there was an Israeli family staying at the hut. They were hanging a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">plack</span> on the hut wall in memory of their daughter that had died on the hike a year earlier. Apparently, she had hiked the tracked independently and had gotten off course and fell off a cliff. It took them 2 weeks to find the body. It was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">heart wrenching</span> story and brought tears to my eyes as I watched the family mourn. They came to walk the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Routeburn</span> track, pay respect to the area where she fell off, and finish the part of the track that she didn't get to walk. Since her death, the wildlife department has put up markers to make the track more clear.<br />The last day of the hike, Alan & Mikaela left in the early morning because they were heading to a different town for the night. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Ziv</span> and I were both heading back to the same town so we hiked the last day together. When we woke up it was pouring rain outside. Everyone around me was putting on there waterproof boots & <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">Gor</span>-Tex everything! They all had their ski pole walking sticks and were ready to hike in the freezing rain. I, on the other hand, pulled out my $5 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">poncho</span> that I bought in Peru and glanced down at my non waterproof shoes and realized it was going to be a long day. I ended up surviving the rain and freezing weather, but at the end of the day - more expensive gear makes for a more pleasurable hiking experience. I think I will purchase some hiking socks and rain pants for the next time around.<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">Ziv</span> and I arrived to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">Queenstown</span>. It was Saturday night, the day before Easter and a school holiday. We drove to every hostel in town and they were all booked. There was not a dorm room available in the entire town. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">Ziv</span> had a car, and normally I wouldn't mind crashing out in a car, but we hadn't showered in days and had been sleeping in sleeping bags....we were ready for a good nights rest. We decided to splurge and split a hotel room for the night. Instead of spending the regular $25 NZ ( $12 us) we spent $80 NZ ($40 us) each for the room. That is a lot of money for my budget right now. I made sure to take all the shampoo and lotion, drink all of the instant coffee packs and steal the toilet paper. There was a queen bed and single bed in the room. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">Ziv</span> was nice enough to give me the Queen bed. He also mentioned how much cooler this night would be if I was his girlfriend, Karen. I guess he would have loved to have been alone with Karen in a hotel room. Well, sorry Charlie....I'm not Karen :) I was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">sooo</span> exhausted, but I held my eyelids open to watch hours of TV since we had paid for it. Plus, it had been weeks since I watched TV. It was actually really nice to have a decent place to sleep for the night.<br />Since <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">Queenstown</span> was booked for the next few days, I decided to ride with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">Ziv</span> to the small town of Te <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">Anau</span>. I needed to go to this town for the Milford Track that I was going to do in a few days anyways, so it wasn't a big deal to go a few days earlier. We packed up his station wagon and headed out on the road...jamming out to Simon & <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">Garfunkel</span> and various Hebrew music. It was nice to talk to him about his Jewish culture and the type of life he had growing up. Alan and Mikaela were also in the same town so we had a few days together before we all went our different directions.<br />This morning I said goodbye to Alan, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">Ziv</span>, & Mikaela. It was fun having Alan and the others as travel companions for awhile, but it is time that I head out on my own again. It is always weird leaving the comforts of a travel companion, but after a few days you are back to yourself again.....there is always another adventure ahead.<br />I am doing a 4 day hike tomorrow...it is the most famous hike in New Zealand, the Milford Track. I am glad for my experience on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">Routeburn</span> as I think I will be way more prepared this time around. I'll let you know how it goes. Goodbye for now :)Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-78346704444432768992009-03-31T20:03:00.000-07:002009-03-31T22:51:18.291-07:00West Coast AdventuresOur day excursion to Abel Tasman Park was amazing. The weather was perfect....not a cloud in the sky. The first half of the day we kayaked through the bays and ocean inlets...exploring caves and learning about the history of the area. I had never Kayaked before. My <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">German</span> friend, Annette, had never kayaked either so we decided to be a pair. It was so much fun! The water was calm and we glided over the top effortlessly. After lunch, we set off on a hike through the park. The terrain was so interesting because it was a sub-tropic forest right from the beaches edge. There were spruce trees mixed with ferns and palm trees <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">judding</span> out from the cliff edges. Through all of the branches and leaves you could view the sandy white beaches and aqua blue ocean. The vegetation and land formations almost don't make sense in New Zealand....I guess that is why it is one of the most beautiful places on earth.<br /><br /><br />We spent a few more days in the quaint town of Nelson and then headed down the West Coast to a small town called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Punakaiki</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Punakaiki</span>....aka "Pancake Rocks" is named for these unique rock formations created by a layering weather process called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Stylobedding</span>. Basically, this limestone rock forms into these thick layers that look like pancakes stacked on each other. It is one of those scientific mysteries as to why the rocks make this formation. During high tide, the sea surges into caverns and thunders against the rocks....and flies up through blowholes. I did not grow up near the ocean and have only seen the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Caribbean</span> or calmer seas. This was one of the first times I witnessed the pure strength and force of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">monstrous</span> waves. It was humbling....If I were to have fallen into the water I would have died instantly. I could have stood there for hours in awe of mother nature. I took pics and video, but it doesn't give it any justice.<br /><br /><br />After the pancake rocks, we grabbed our head lamps and headed into a cave. It was open to the public and not that big, but it was fun to go exploring about on our own. If we were on a cave expedition, I would have been fired <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">immediately</span>. I hit the roof of the cave with my backpack, nailed my head against the rocks, and skidded the sides of my body in tight spots. I was covered in mud and clay by the end of it. There weren't too many major cave formations, so I didn't do that much damage thanks goodness! But I don't think I should look for a career in caving anytime soon. From the caves we went on a hike through this lush forest. It went right along this gorgeous, crystal clear river. (Most rivers in NZ you can drink out of). It was an enchanting hike- all the different trees were shades of green and browns. It was so dense and natural aromas filled the air. The temperature was crisp and fresh...I hardly broke a sweat. I was just waiting for a fairy to whiz by my head or a hobbit to pop out of one of the tree holes - It felt magical! By the end of the day we were exhausted. We stayed in a cute forest bungalow which was basically this shelter with 7 beds...it was very outdoorsy and rustic.<br /><br /><br />The next day we headed down the coast to Fox Glacier. New Zealand is unique in that is has glaciers only feet from sub-tropic & tropical <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">rain forests</span>....and only a few miles from the beach. The only other place in the world where it has similar terrain is Patagonia in South America. I had never been up close and personal to a glacier before. I decided, being a Texas girl and all, that not only was I going to tour the glacier, but I was going to sign up for ice-climbing class. I am not sure the next time I will see a glacier so I was going to live up the moment. This was another one of my grand ideas that sounded super fun and exciting, but I didn't really think everything through...like the whole part where you "ice-climb" a freaking glacier!!!! It ended up being one of the most challenging days of my trip so far.<br /><br /><br />Our group consisted of 4 guys and another <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">German</span> girl named <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Franci</span> (tons and tons of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Germans</span> backpack through NZ!) Everyone had either ice-climbed or rock-climbed previously....and then there was little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">ol</span>' me. Besides not ever being on a glacier before, I had never done any sport climbing. In fact, I totally sucked at the action of climbing itself. When we were teenagers, I was always the last one to climb over the fence when running from the Williamson County cops at <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">high school</span> parties. It was just a skill I never fully developed. We packed up our ice-climbing gear, which consisted of ice boots, crampons (the spiky things for your shoes), harness, axes, anchors, ropes, gloves, and helmet. We hiked over an hour up the glacier which was exhausting in itself. The glacier was intimidating and beautiful all at the same time. Another humbling moment where you realize how awesome mother nature really is. Our guides, Chris & Malcolm, taught us the basics of climbing on very small ice walls and we all seemed to get the general hang of things. They set us up for a first climb on a high wall, but it wasn't very steep. I followed the guides instructions...tap one ax in....tap the other ax in...then place each foot into the wall and move up and repeat. I made it all the way to the top and it was awesome! However, my guide warned me that I was using my arms too much and needed to put more weight into my legs. But I felt like I was going to fall if I did that. Even though we were connected to a harness, it was a weird feeling to trust your body while climbing....this is a very common reaction to new climbers. After lunch, they set us up on a much higher and steeper wall. Certain parts of the wall had an overhang that you needed to climb up, which meant climbing past a 90 degree angle. By this time most everyone seemed to have the hang of things, but I was still nervous and knew that I was the weakest link. When I saw the new wall I was like..."what the F....I thought this was a "beginners" course PEOPLE!!!!" I think my partner was a bit nervous too because he told me that I was climbing first. I got all set up and tied into the harness and was like "oh well....all I can do is try my best." It took a lot longer to get my positioning and start up the climb. I could feel my body starting to get a little weak. Sometimes my leg would or ax would slip out, but as long as I had at least 3 points in the ice I could catch myself. Then I got to the overhang. I was already tired and was trying to use all my strength to put the ax in over the hang so that I could climb over the hard part....once again, however, I was not putting the weight into my legs. I got into this horribly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">awkward</span> position where I couldn't see a good option for me to move upward and I was about 30 ft. off the ground and in between a big <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">crevasse</span>. My arm muscles began to burn and shake and they were not going to last much longer. WHY COULD I NOT PUT THE WEIGHT INTO MY LEGS!!!!!!!!! I didn't think I had good foot placement and my hands were freezing...the frustration overwhelmed me. Malcolm was yelling at me where I needed to go and trying to get me placed better to where I could save energy. I tried one more time to change positions, but I felt my body give out and there was nothing I could do....my feet slipped and I just let go of the axes. Before I knew it, I crashed into the wall behind me, dropped about 5 ft and then was hanging in the middle of this <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">crevasse</span> with everyone staring at me. "See, I told you that you would not fall," exclaimed Malcolm. ( I was beginning to not like Malcolm at this particular moment in time) "Technicality beats out muscle in climbing and your muscles are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">shredded</span>. You need to trust your legs more." I was both physically & mentally exhausted. What the hell was I thinking doing ice-climbing on a glacier??? The part that sucked the most was that my right ax was stuck in the snow 5 ft. up. Malcolm told me that I needed to get it and that he wasn't letting me down until I climbed to the top. I gave him a look that must have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">frightened</span> him because he then said he would pull my rope tight to help me above the tough area, but after that I was on my own. He was one of those tough love, no compassion type of people....but otherwise really nice. After he helped me above the lip, I grabbed my ax and got into placement. I caught my breath and sorted out my thoughts...little by little I made it to the top. Even though I had a little bit of help, I was proud of myself. My body was exhausted though...it was a long 9 hour day! After it was all said and done and I was lying in my bed re-thinking the day, I was able to put together all the technicalities he was trying to explain to me. Once you trust your body and footing, ice climbing can be a very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">exhilarating</span> sport. I would like to try it again someday ad climb to the top with no help at all!<br /><br /><br />The next day I just wanted to relax. My entire body was sore and I couldn't imagine doing anything <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">strenuous</span>. Alan, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Franci</span>, and this other dude Kevin, and I went out to the beach to watch the sunset. We walked on the beach where the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Tasman</span> ocean was on one side and the mountains and glaciers were on the other side. Where else in the world could you have this view, I wondered??? I sat on a washed up log with my feet in the sand and watched the sun sizzle into the ocean. The adventures and experiences of the past week were running through my mind....I wondered, as the sun was swallowed up by the ocean - who on earth was seeing the first glimpses of sunrise? Was someone sitting on a beach on the other side of the world wondering the same thing as me?<br /><br />My computer is giving me trouble...I hope to have all of these pics posted in the next day or 2.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-21950188682546299472009-03-23T21:52:00.000-07:002009-03-23T23:42:08.162-07:00The South IslandWellington, the capitol of NZ, was a very lovely town. I think it is similar to Austin in that it is a university town and has a fun young vibe. However, the terrain is much different then back <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">home</span>. I met my friend, Alan (who I previously met in Ecuador). He was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">couchsurfing</span> and his host invited me to stay at his place as well. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Couchsurfing</span> is a world wide program in which people host travelers and show them their city. It is free and you meet a lot of cool people. Our host was Ryan. He was born in Oregon, but has lived in Wellington the past 3 years and was working on his citizenship. He took us to a local movie quiz night at the cinema, happy hours, cafes....we hung out with his friends. It was fun to chill in Wellington with a local. At happy hour one night, I had a chat with these lovely guys and after a little while they gave me these 2 free tickets to a rugby match that night. I had been dying to see a professional sports match (cricket or rugby) so I was super excited. Alan and I went to the game...ate chips (fries) and drank the local beer. It was much like a typical sporting event in the states. Cheerleaders, the crowd going wild and yelling at the refs, obnoxious music. Not to mention, rugby players are CRAZY! A lot of them got hurt and limped off the field....very dangerous, but really exciting to watch.<br />After a few days in Wellington, we decided to ferry across to the South Island. On the ferry, I met this Kiwi couple who were in their mid-40s. They were born and raised in Auckland and had just sold everything they owned, quit their jobs, and bought a camper van. They decided they needed a change in life and realized that they had never properly traveled through their own country. So, the plan was to camp around the South Island for a year and figure out where they wanted to settle next. I thought it was a brilliant idea! I myself have hardly traveled the USA...how fun would it be to road trip through America for a year??? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hmmm</span>...maybe my next trip :) Anyways, the sparkle of adventure in their eyes was so endearing to see. I meet many people my age who are backpacking and trying to figure out who they are in life and where they want to go. This couple was different then the usual traveler I came across....just because you are married and older and settled...doesn't mean you can't still have a little bit of adventure. They were the first of a few unique <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">travelers</span> that I came across the next few days of my journey.<br />We arrived to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Picton</span>, which is the port town where the ferries come in (population 4000). The town is the gateway to the beautiful Marlborough Sounds. We did a day hike through the sounds which was magnificent. While hiking I met this older woman....she appeared to be in her 60s. She was from Australia and owned a goat cheese farm. For her holiday, she came over to NZ for 3 months...living out of her car, bathing in the streams, hiking every chance she could get, and stopping in a pub here and there. Pretty much, she was the coolest woman I have ever met. She was all alone and seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. We had a good chat about travels and she loved to talk about Obama. She said her and Obama spent the evenings together (she read his books before she went to sleep at nigh). She was a character...and once again, I was enjoying listening to her stories about travel and life. She invited us to work on her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">cheese farm</span> for a bit if I travel through her town in Australia....free room and board...just work a few hours a day making cheese! That actually sounds like fun :)<br />New Zealand is clearly one of the prettiest countries in the world. It has lush mountains, valleys, ocean, beaches, glaciers, rivers, lakes, and much more. They are very conscious about the environment and put a lot of money into preserving the parks and wildlife. The country is roughly the size of Colorado with a population of about 4 million (which is not a lot!!!). This means that outside of the main city centers there is tons of land with no people. Before Lord of the Rings, it was not that big on the backpackers circuit, but over the past few years it has grown in popularity. If you like adventure and the outdoors....then this is the place for you. Besides its scenic beauty, everyone speaks <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">English</span>, it is very well developed, you can drink the water, transportation is pristine, and the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">accommodations</span> are well above average. Because of all of this, it isn't the cheapest country to travel through.....much more expensive then South America. Travel is easy...in fact, I think it is almost too easy. There is not the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">spontaneity</span> or unpredictability that I came across in South America and other under-developed countries. Although it is very nice and my travels are going well....I felt like I was missing something. So, to help spice things up during my travels here in NZ, I have decided to try hitch-hiking as a means of transport. I kept going back and forth about how to get around (rent/buy car, backpacker bus, fly) and I came to the conclusion that hitching was the best option for me. It was cheap, you met cool people, I could still see cool things, and it is one of the safest countries in the world to do it. Plus, it would give me that unpredictability that I have been longing for :) How long will it take for me to get a ride....will I get a ride at all? And if I didn't get a ride, well then....I would just hop on the next bus out of town.<br />Our next destination was Nelson which was about 120k from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Picton</span>. I was determined to hitch the entire way there. The hostel owner showed us a good spot in town to pick up a ride (because it is a very common form of transport here) and we were off. I had no idea what to expect from hitch-hiking so I just did what I saw in the movies....threw my bags on the curb and held out my thumb. I was laughing hysterically to myself because never did I think that I would hitch a ride like this. Alan and I were holding our thumbs and grinning from ear to ear. About 10 minutes went by and no one stopped....another 10 minutes and nothing. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Hmmmm</span> maybe we looked too excited about this. Perhaps we needed to look more helpless....and distressed.."please please...pick us up, we have no car.....no home....we are dying of hunger." Alan was getting a little bit <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">antsy</span> because he had a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">pre</span>-paid bus pass, but I told him that I was hitching to Nelson...no matter how long it took. Once I get something it my head, I am going to do it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">dammit</span>!!! I was determined. A few minutes later, a van pulled over with an older fella and he said he could take us about 20k to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Springcreek</span>. So we grabbed our bags and hopped in. We both looked at each other with the biggest smiles on our face....we had officially picked up a ride and we were true renegades....hitching the South Island. I was so excited the whole time....if only the driver knew it was our first hitch experience. Ray was a nice fella...he had 2 kids that lived in the states so he traveled there quite often. He loved the states and was talking about some of his travels there (it was refreshing to hear someone say some good things about the States for once.) Him and his wife recently moved to the South Island...they bought and ran a local hotel in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Springcreek</span> and liked their new life now that the kids had grown up. It was a fantastic first hitch experience- in fact, too bad this is totally dangerous in the States because I think it is a fantastic way to get somewhere while meeting cool people. Plus, the unpredictability of it all was just way too exciting for me. Ray dropped us off at a good spot for getting rides and said we would probably be picked up within the hour. After about 30 minutes though, we didn't have any takers. It was really fun seeing people's expressions though. You had the old women who just shook their heads and mouthed something along the lines of "you crazy kids". Then you had a car full of young guys who smiled and motioned that there was no more room in their car. My favorite though, were the young families with kids in the backseats. The husband would look at you and smile as if he could remember the good old days of hitching. You could tell that he wanted to stop and pick us up. He would give you a head nod...."way to go kid...keep it up....you will find a ride soon." We spent the next hour imagining the conversations that were going through the passing cars. Eventually, Alan walked to Ray's motel and made a sign for us to hold that read "Nelson, please!". I held the sign up and Alan stuck his thumb out.... And then shortly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">after</span>, a station wagon flying down the road passed us, but then slammed on his breaks and slowed down. It was two Swiss travelers heading to Nelson as well. We piled our stuff in and we were on the road again. We arrived to Nelson that afternoon all by hitching rides. We gave the Swiss guy a couple bucks for gas because he was empty, but otherwise, it was all free!!! IT WAS AWESOME!!!! I will <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">definitely</span> give it another whirl while traveling on the South Island.<br />Nelson is an awesome town....they love the arts and have beautiful scenic treks and parks throughout the city. I am staying in a nice hostel that only has 10 beds. This married couple (Lyn & Robin) converted their downstairs house into a hostel and they are the nicest people ever. Lyn told me if I had a sweet tooth I could walk upstairs and she would dish me some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">ice cream</span> after dinner. How cute is that??? They make you feel right at home and it is refreshing to stay at a place like that every now and then. Tomorrow, a few of us are going on a day excursion on the Abel Tasman trek. We are going to see a colony of seals, kayak, and hike....it will be an eventful day. I have about 5 more weeks in NZ....who knows where the wind will take me....or where my next ride will end up.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-68776098230591653402009-03-13T22:07:00.000-07:002009-03-17T16:40:43.952-07:00New Zealand....via Fiji!I arrived to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Nadi</span>, Fiji at 5:35am. I was excited to start my trip again, to see a new place and a new culture. My taxi driver, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Anu</span>, was from Indian decent. I really didn't know what to expect from Fiji, but it is comprised of Fijians and Indians and they speak a mixture of both <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Fijian</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hindu</span> as well as <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">English</span>. I think the Indians came over to the South Pacific Islands as slaves and now they share the land. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Anu</span> was explaining to me the history in his broken <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">English</span>.<br />When I arrived to the small resort that I had booked, I was greeted by 3 Fijian woman. They had the best smiles on their faces that lit up the entire room. They all said "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Bula</span>" (which means hello/welcome) and I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">immediately</span> responded with "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Hola</span>, Como <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Estan</span>?".....they just stared at me like I was crazy. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Dangit</span>!!!! My first hour in a new country and I've already played the dumb American card..."I'm in a foreign country, you are not white, you don't speak <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">English</span>, so...I am going to talk to you in Spanish!" Actually, to my defense, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Bula</span>" sounded a lot like "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Hola</span>" and since I had been traveling in South America for 4 months I think it was just an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">innate</span> response. I apologized and tried to explain myself, but that was not the only time during my 1 day in Fiji where I broke out in Spanish....I felt pretty silly.<br />My room had a fabulous view of the gardens and volcanic mountains and if I leaned over my balcony far enough I could get a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">glimpse</span> of the ocean. (We are on a budget people....I couldn't afford the ocean front!). I spent the day relaxing, writing, & reading, while working on my tan. Yes Mom....I put sunscreen on. But I did get the "singles burn". You know, that little part of the back that you can't quite reach on your own - well, that got pretty burnt. It was just another sign to reiterate that I was alone at a honeymooners paradise! I was actually having a really good time regardless.<br />That night I went down to enjoy a nice dinner. I decided to bring a book to read and try to find a table that had a fabulous view of the bay. I was in luck, there was an open table amongst all the honeymooners and families...perfect! I sat down and ordered a white wine, which is really unusual for me because I normally drink red wine. But I was sweating so bad because the humidity was insane. Like literally, sweat rolling down my back and probably showing through my cotton dress. White wine just seemed refreshing at the time. I opened my book and tried not to make any sudden movements so that my body temperature would not rise anymore. "How ya going?" I heard in a thick <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Australian</span> accent. I looked up to see a man staring in my direction. "Excuse me?" I replied as I really had no idea what he just said to me. "Are you alone?"....was it that obvious, I wondered? My sweaty ass sitting alone reading and drinking wine....."Uh, Yeah...I'm just passing through" as if I needed an excuse to clarify that I was here for only a layover. "Well would you like to join my wife and me for a drink and dinner?"..."Why yes I would!" And that is how I met Deb and Rob. We chatted for a few hours about life, politics, travel, and everything else in between. It was lovely and I am glad that they invited me over. They live in Newcastle, Australia and opened their home to me if I ever pass through.<br />Fiji was awesome from what I saw. I hope to make it back there someday for more time then just one night.....maybe for my honeymoon someday. Or a fabulous girls trip :)<br />Onward to NZ...Australia and NZ have pretty strict immigration rules. You need to have proof of onward travel and provide financial stability, etc. I thought I had everything squared away until I went to the check-in desk in Fiji. Apparently, I did not have a visitors visa to Australia and I needed to have that in order to leave Fiji. I had to run around the airport looking for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Internet</span> to try and apply so I could make it on my plane in time. Gotta love international travel! Just when you think you have everything under control, something slips through the cracks. ( Like I really ever have everything under control, let's be honest here!)<br />Auckland was a pretty sweet city. I stayed in the city center and walked EVERYWHERE! They had so many amazing parks and areas to sit and read and people watch. The university was also nearby so I wandered through there to check out the scene. There were so many different <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">ethnicity's</span> throughout the city.....tons of Asians, Indians, and South Pacific Islanders. A lot of them attend Auckland university. Because of this, there is AMAZING food options. They have these places called "Food Courts" where there are about 30 stands of different types of food and you just eat in a no frills cafeteria. There was one next to my hostel and that was the only place I ate at in Auckland. They had choices between Indonesian, Thai, Vietnamese, Indian, Turkish, Malaysian, and the list goes on. All meals were about $5 which meant it was one of the cheapest places to eat in the city.....I tried something new <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">every time</span> I went in. When you order they ask if you want the meal spicy or not. The first few meals I chose spicy and it was the perfect amount of spice. I was beginning to get pretty confident in my eating because I could handle the spicy dishes while everyone else was ordering mild. Well, my last meal was not the case. Once again, I ordered spicy, but this time it was like they took every pepper on earth and put it on this dish. I couldn't even eat hardly any of it. My entire face was broken out into a sweat, but I was trying to act cool because the cook kept looking over at me. I think he was playing a joke on me since I had such confidence in the way I said "spicy". I finally asked for a to-go box and acted like I was really full so as to not let him know the spice got to me. My stomach burned for about 2 days after that.<br />Auckland is called the "City of Sails" because about every 1 in 3 people owns a boat. The city is located between the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean...if you go up high enough you can see both bodies of water. I spent a few mornings walking along the coast lines. They have a great hike and bike trail that goes right along the water and through the beaches. I think one of the best ways to explore a city is to jog/walk through it... In the afternoons I would go to one of the beautiful parks and lay in the grass and read or research my travel books. They have pick-up rugby and cricket games after work so I enjoyed watching those sports and trying to figure out all the rules etc. The rugby guys were nice to look at, and I now have a weird interest in learning how to play cricket. I have decided I will go see some sort of professional sports match before I leave NZ or Australia.<br />One morning I took a free city bus tour. My guide was a Maori, which are the native people of New Zealand. I actually learned a lot about NZ and the Maori culture on the tour. For instance, the reason why New Zealand is such and adventure sport country is not because everyone here is a crazy bad-ass, but because you cannot sue a company for personal injury in NZ. As long as you sign a waiver and they suited you up correctly....if you get hurt there is nothing you can do about it. It was something the government put into effect to help with the tourism.<br />When my tour guide introduced himself in the Maori language, he said his name, the mountain he was born on, and the river that ran through it. That is how they introduce themselves because they believe they are one with the land they grew up on. Also, Maoris are known for their intricate tattoos. They used to cover their bodies with tattoos including their faces. Now-a-days they don't put them on their face as much because they cannot get work and there is a bad stigma to it from a gang that broke out in the 80s. However, most of them still get tattoos on their arms and legs. Each line and stroke of the tattoo is significant to their life. Much like the way they introduce themselves, the tattoos usually include the mountain, river, the boat that their ancestors came over on, their tribe name, names of their mother & father, and any special skills they have. We visited several grounds through Auckland that were owned by Maori tribes. At this time the areas are still open to public, which is pretty neat considering the rough history between the settlers and the natives.<br />During the tour, we also went to the Harbor Bridge where we watched people <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">bungee</span> jump. Everyone was trying to tempt each other to jump....I sure as hell wasn't going to jump though. Now that I knew about the personal injury law, my view of adventure sports in NZ had changed a bit.<br />We also went to Mt Eden, which is a volcano with a huge crater. In fact, Auckland sits on top of about 50 volcanoes....so basically it is a ticking time bomb! About 60 years ago scientists predicted that there would be a new island to form in the next 100 years. They still believe this, which means that sometime soon there is gonna be one crazy fire in the sky when the island comes up next to NZ.<br />After Auckland, I headed north to a town called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Whangarei</span>. I heard there were these awesome caves you could explore for FREE! When the "F" word is involved....I come a running. When I arrived to the town I soon realized that the caves were a pretty far distance away and you could only get there by car. This was the first kink of my travels. I had heard that renting a car was the way to travel, but I didn't want to rent one alone. There are also these backpacker buses you can ride, but you are still limited to what you can see. I needed to figure something out soon though...there were tons of places to see and I wouldn't be able to get to them all by the city bus.<br />Instead of the caves, I ended up doing this 10 mile hike to these awesome waterfalls. The scenery was awesome and it was a great workout! I decided that things happen for a reason and it was probably good that I did not go to the caves alone. I probably would have been stabbed in the eye by some stalagmite and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">lay</span> there for dead until some other idiot backpacker came along.<br />I met a friend in Ecuador who happens to be in NZ now as well. I decided to go meet up with him and we would look into renting a car. He is Alaskan and LOVES the outdoors so I think we will have fun hiking and camping together. So, I am now heading to South Island. There are a few places I wanted to check out on North Island, but it isn't worth the time and expense of getting there at this point. Plus, there are TONS of amazing things to see on South Island ...including a lot of ski resorts :)Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-46730495230350779462009-03-13T00:42:00.000-07:002009-03-13T01:25:36.039-07:00The plan is....there is no plan!After a hectic day of packing and last minute <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">fiascoes</span>, I found myself sitting in the Austin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Bergstrom</span> Airport catching my breath and gathering my thoughts. Here I was, about to start stage 2 of my Round the World trip....a moment that seemed to be in the distant future. Crazy how time passes so quickly.<br />It was the first time in the past month that I had time to center myself, re-group, and get back into "traveler" mode. After a crazy 4 month <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">roller coaster</span> ride through South America, I came back to the USA to visit with family & friends and chill-out for a bit. Visiting family and friends I did do....the chill-out part...well, not so much.<br />It was definitely a culture shock coming back to the states. First of all, it was pretty ridiculous to come home to all of this stuff<strong> </strong> (clothes, hair products, blow dryer, lotions, perfumes, makeup, shoes, etc) that I had packed away before I left. And to think....I lived out of a backpack for 4 months with none of it. It's amazing how little you really need to live.<br />Besides the over excess of crap that I was now keenly aware of, culture shock <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">numero</span> dos was the constant rat race, planning, scheduling, hustle & bustle world that we call America. America...the world super-power! Capitalism at its best....urrrr...so we think? It turns out that I came home to one of the worst recessions in our country's history. Every news show, magazine cover, radio channel discussed how bad of shape we were in.....and for good reason. Things are not looking good and my country has a rough road ahead of it. It was in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">every ones</span> face no matter where you turned. In a country where people love their "stuff", it seemed that people just stopped buying things. What will the future hold for our economy??? No one really knows. We have a new President with a lot on his plate....only time will tell.<br />From a traveler's standpoint, the US dollar is stronger abroad because everyone's economy has collapsed as well. People outside of the States LOVE Obama and have high hopes for him....so that meant a better image for me as an American...an image that has been negative the last few times I have traveled. Those things, combined with lower gas prices, has made this one of the best times to travel in the past 20 years. However, I must say, there is an underlying pain in my gut questioning whether I should have quit a well paying job....and if I will be able to find work when my travels are over. But who wants to be a Debbie Downer? I'm jobless in the worst economical situation....traveling the world. That is just how it is. No regrets....no looking back. I am just going to enjoy this time in my life.<br />Even with the recession in full swing, it didn't take long for the rat race to surround me again. With all of my family and friends working hard to make a dollar and keeping up with the Jones's, I soon found my schedule filling up with happy hours, lunch dates, dinners, and quality time to be spent with loved ones. I was balancing friends and family and trying to absorb as much as I could before I had to say goodbye again. Also, trying to plan the next stage of my trip on top of that and I soon felt like I had a full time job of....<em>being home</em>??? It sounds ridiculous, I know, but it was a little overwhelming coming from South America where I hardly had any plans and rarely anyone to check in with.<br />However, despite coming back to the craziness of America and feeling the culture shock, it was wonderful to see my loved ones and be home again. It actually didn't take long for my South American mentalities to fade away and start to embrace the comforts of America again. Laptops, i<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">tunes</span>, queen-sized beds, hot showers, CLEAN showers, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">tex</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">mex</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">queso</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">mexican</span> martinis.....the list goes on.....it was nice to have the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">unnecessary</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">necessities</span> again (if that makes any sense at all).<br />In fact, for a lot of the reasons that my country (government) frustrates me, there are double the reasons why I am fortunate to be an American citizen. I am a well educated, respected single female. I have choices and freedoms that many woman (or men for that matter) can't even imagine in other countries.<br />If it weren't for the hardships of my parents and my parent's parents, and if it weren't for my hard working ethics and determination that I learned from this capitalistic mind set, then I would not be doing the traveling that I am doing today. I have determined that it is a catch-22. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Unfortunately</span>, I had to quit my job and take a huge risk to do this trip, since our workforce doesn't cater to long term travel. But at least I have the choice to do so.<br />The one month that I was back in the states was really good for me. It went by too fast. My friends claim that nothing has changed since I have been gone, but I see many changes. I will miss birthdays, weddings, baptisms, and many more important things that I would love to be a part of. There is a whole world out there to see and I often wonder if I could live abroad the rest of my life. But family is way too important and I can see that I will miss them greatly these next 10 months.<br />So....here I am ...heading to LAX (my first time in California). I have had so many great experiences in the past 5 months...so many thoughts of the world running through my head. I can't even imagine what the next 10 months have in store for me. What places will I see and what characters will I meet?<br />I start the next venture heading to New Zealand. I have a layover in Fiji and have decided that I will stay a day there just to check out the island. I will be surrounded by honeymooners and lovers and then there will be little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">ol</span>' me hanging out on the beach. I figure I will use one day of beach time to relax and get centered before I head in to the wild and crazy world of the "backpacker" lifestyle. Once I get to New Zealand, I am not sure what my itinerary will be....the plan is....there is no plan. Here we go again!Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-18048450349391045112009-01-27T22:07:00.000-08:002009-02-02T21:54:27.556-08:00The Prince and the Pauper...!I arrived to Buenos Aires, Argentina after an overnight flight from Colombia. As I mentioned in my last blog, I was a little out of sorts. I went with Jeremy´s recommendation on how to get from the airport to the hotel (about 30km away) and took this VIP car that was "supposedly" the best bang for your buck. As I was riding in the car I decided to glance at my Lonely Planet Travel guide (for the 1st time about Argentina). As I read through the guide I learned that the VIP cars where extremely expensive and the best option was to take the shuttle for $8. Hmmmmm I thought to myself...that is way cheaper then the $40 dollars I am spending right now in the VIP private towncar that "Jeremy" recommended. This was the intro to the next week of my life....my week of traveling with Jeremy Goodwin!<br />For those of you that do not know...Jeremy is one of my best friends. Our personalities are hilarious with one another and we spend most of our time laughing at our idiocracies then actually living a productive life. Furthermore, Jeremy is a well traveled individual. He even has his own business where he sends highschool students to go travel abroad and encourages people of all sorts to travel and learn about other cultures. HOWEVER...and I say this in all caps...Jeremy travels well! He is either a working traveler...or a vacationer. The word "backpacking" is not part of his vocabulary or his mindset. So when Jeremy randomly emailed me about 2 weeks ago and asked to meet me in my travels...I was very excited. Jeremy, however, did not know what he was about to get himself involved with.<br />And so the story goes...The Prince and the Pauper!<br />I arrived to the hotel and was really excited to not only see Jeremy, but to also chill in an actual hotel for a few days. We had a blast catching up with each other and exchanging stories. I was so happy to have a comfortable bed and a private bathroom with hot water. I opened my backpack to grab some clothes for my shower when all of a sudden Jeremy said "Wow Dude....what is that smell?" I really didn´t notice anything, but I figured it was coming from my backpack...proof that my natural aromas were not that popular among the "vacationing" American. "It is my towel" I explained ...a little embarrased. I decided though, that it was probably time to wash my clothes. That day, Jeremy and I went for a jog around the city and he showed me some of the main attractions. Then we met up with some friends that we knew and enjoyed a nice traditional Argentinian Parilla (grilled meats). It was an amazing dinner. We went out on the town to some posh bars and all I could think about was how I was not staying within my budget.<br />Buenos Aires was an amazing city, though. I am not much of a big city girl...however, this had to be one of my favorites. Every street comes to life with tango music, food, wine, people, and old architecture with a modern touch! I haven´t quite figured out 2 things about Argentinians... A) when and where they work and B) how they are not overweight and dying from heartattacks by the minute. People do not have dinner until 10 or 11pm each night and then hit the dance clubs until sunrise....almost every day of the week! On top of that...the daily diet is steak, wine, bread, and italian food. Not too many vegetables are consumed around this area. Every day I walked through the city and just saw people hanging out with each other...drinking wine and conversing. My argentinian friend, Adrian, explained to me that the people in argentina have a very different mindset then americans. They only work as much as they need to and then spend the rest of the time "enjoying life with family and friends". This has been proven to me...over the next few weeks of my travels I witnessed the wonderful world of Argentina and how they spend hours and hours with family and friends...eating..drinking...eating some more. Throw in a little bit of work...a few futbol games...and you are living the Argentinian lifestyle!<br />After a few days in Buenos Aires, I decided that I really wanted to see Uruguay, which is an hour boat ride from Buenos Aires. Jeremy really wanted to go to this popular beach resort town called Punta Del Este. It seemed pretty expensive to me, so I recommended a smaller beach town that was more on my budget. I like the more chill-out, relaxing, low key scenes, while Jeremy enjoys the scene and be seen places. Anyways, after much conversation about money, cities, etc. I decided to go to the beach resort town on one condition...we would have to stay in a hostel, because there was no way I could afford a hotel room. I think Jeremy threw up in his mouth a little bit, but he agreed to the proposal and then diligently started researching hostels online....I let him even figure out what hostel to stay at.<br />So then we were off...the Prince and the Popper on a ferry to Uruguay. Our first stop was in the quiant town of Colonia. This town was super cute with cobblestone streets and old timey cars. I felt like we went back in time about 40 years. We had gone back and forth about renting a car to drive around Uruguay in. When we got to the car rental place they only had manual cars in our price range. Neither of us really knew how to drive manual, but the salesman insisted that we rent the car. They even volunteered to teach us how to drive...haha I guess they get a really big commission check on rentals and an even bigger check from the insurance company when we crash the car. We decided to just rent a golf cart for the afternoon and cruised around the lazy beach town. That night a big storm rolled into town and the power went out in the entire city. We found an awesome little Italian restuarant and had dinner by candle light....how romantic! Our hostel in Colonia was actually really nice in "backpacking" standards. It had a great common area and the decor was trendy. We slept in a room with 6 other people. Jeremy simply could not understand why in the world you would want to sleep with 6 other random strangers in a room. For about 5 to 10 more dollars we could have had a private room. But when you are traveling for a year...5 to 10 bucks adds up quick. On top of that, the shower was about 1 foot by 1 foot...we had a snorrer in the room, and no AC. This was no big deal to me...welcome to my life for the past 4 months, but Jeremy on the other hand..could not wrap his head around the situation. He was a good sport though and we laughed a lot about his "vacation" with Andrea.<br />The next day we headed to Punte Del Este. We stopped for a layover in Montevideo. Jeremy and I were starving so we ran into the McDonald´s to grab a quick sandwich (this would be one of the first few times I ate fast food on my trip by the way). Jeremy was so proud of his spanish speaking skills and was handling most of the conversations during out travels. So it really cracked me up when he went to order a 10 piece chicken nugget. Apparently, the girl thought that he ordered 10-10 piece chicken nuggets....100 chicken nuggets! It was about the time she told more people to move to the kitchen to help cook and told Jeremy he owed about 700 pesos that he realized she misunderstood. Can you imagine us walking out of McDonald´s with 100 chicken nuggets?<br />We finally arrived to Punta Del Este and walked about a mile to our hostel. That is another thing that I try to do to save money....walk everywhere. Jeremy insisted on taking a cab, but I told him that was not in the budget. I carried my bag like a backpack and Jeremy had his roller suitcase. He rolled that damn suitcase wherever he went...REFUSING to stop rolling..no matter the conditions. Mud, potholes, curbs, grass, dog poo....he kept on rolling. I had to laugh everytime he went over an obstacle in which he had to struggle a bit to ROLL. Heaven forbid he carry it like a backpack!<br />We arrived to the hostel (that Jeremy booked for us). It was called Roger´s Hostel and was a house in the middle of a neighborhood. We walked in and there were a couple of surfer looking guys that appeared to be stoned out of their minds hanging out in the common area. We stood there for a few minutes not really knowing how to check in or who was in charge of the place. A few guys rolled up the driveway on their skateboards and one of them approached us to get us checked in. He explained that for the first night we would have to sleep in seperate dorm rooms. Hahaha I just had to laugh at this moment because this meant that Jeremy would be in a dorm room with complete strangers without me. The hostel was pretty funny as well...I would rank it at one of the lower grade hostels I have stayed in. It became clear to us that it was a cheap place for the surfers to stay at when they came to the beach resort city. It had character, but it lacked in other areas. We got settled in and went out to go grab dinner. Since it stays light until about 10pm down here, the time just slips away. I think we had dinner at about 9pm..then decided to go check out some bars around town. We found this lovely bar called "Company". From the outside it looked like one of our classic dive bars that I love. After we went inside and ordered a drink we realized it was a kaoroke bar...for people over the age of 50. We were the youngest people in the joint, but ended up having a blast dancing and singing with the old crowd. After that we made our way to the "cool" bars and met up with some people from Chicago. We talked to them for several hours then decided it was time to head home...since it was 5AM! On our way home we decided we needed some drunk munchies and stopped in at the McDonalds (3rd time to eat fast food on my trip). We ate a sandwich and then left, but we both were still kinda hungry for some crazy reason...so we walked right next door to the Burger King and had some nuggets (4th time I ate fast food on my trip!). Do you see the trend here....when I am with Jeremy I spend money and eat fast food...NO BUENO!<br />We finally got back to the hostel and to no surprise, there were still people up even though the sun was rising. Jeremy had a small issue in his room because a group of guys tried to sneak someone into the hostel and he was going to sleep on Jeremys bed. I am assuming they worked it out, because I found the guy passed out in the hallway the next morning. The next day I woke up to music blaring and people wrestling and acting goofy in the house. I was so hot and hungover and just needed to get out of the frat house. We went and spent the day hanging out on the beach...it was so nice. We found a place to eat and ordered some wine and relaxed ALLLLL day. The prices were outrageous and I must admit that it was hard for me knowing that each sip of wine could get me a nights stay in Ecuador, but I decided to let loose for a day and live like I could afford it ;)<br />When we arrived back to the frat house this really hot surfer guy came up to me and asked if Jeremy and I were a couple and if we wanted a private room to ourselves. I guess he worked there, but all I could hear was him asking whether or not Jeremy and I were a couple in which I immediatly responded "Heavens no....NOOOOOO...totally not together....I am single". He responded "Ok..so I will move him into your dorm room and you will stay in the dorm room again tonight, ok?". My eyes were still gazing at him when Jeremy came up to me and asked what in the world I was thinking. We could have easily shared a double bed for one night and had our own PRIVATE ROOM! This hostel was a mess and super loud with people partying all night long. It would have been much better for Jeremy and I to pretend we were a couple and get the private room. I must admit...I screwed that opportunity up for us...If the guy hadn´t been so cute we probably would have enjoyed our second night there a little better.<br />The next morning Jeremy and I woke up before everyone else in the house...packed out things...and left quietly. Good old Roger´s hostel...I am so glad Jeremy was the one that booked it or else I would have never heard the end of it. After that experience, Jeremy refused to stay in another dorm room or Hostel for that matter. It became clear to me that he loved HOTELS....he loved 5 star hotels...or 1 star hotels..as long as it was a HOTEL. But the minute you added an "s" into the word...he hated it. He was not going to stay in another hostel that was for sure...and he decided to book us a hotel in Montevideo for our last night together...his treat!<br />Montevideo was an awesome capital. I really loved the feel to it...almost better then Buenos Aires. Buenos Aires is an amazing city as well, but Montevideo is way more chilled out. I am more of a chill person myself so I enjoyed the layed back pace and atmosphere. It is located on the coast and they have this awesome boardwalk that runs throughout the city. I got a good run in for excercise and was able to see the city while soaking in the Uruguayan people. I am not sure if I have mentioned this or not, but everyone in Uruguay and Argentina drink this tea called Maté. It is a major tradition in this area and is a bit of a process. First of all, they carry this huge thermos in one arm and then have a tea cup with this special straw that they sip out of. They don´t leave anywhere without the thermos and tea cup and the drink it allll day long. It is more of a social thing in which they meet up with their friends and pass around the maté. When I went jogging in Montevideo...people were even powerwalking with maté in their hands. I just could not understand the phenomenon. I mean...some people walk around with a smoke in their mouth, or chew gum all day, or a toothpick behind their ear. But these people carry a freaking thermos and tea cup everywhere...It just seems really inconvenient to carry all those things around all the time and still get your everyday tasks fulfilled. But they do somehow....they love their maté. Here is a picture of a nice fella drinking his Maté...loving life!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGe_7OXgtAt90vaO6ECotWm-SG5Mu-4tEtfPd9SrxemXwg2DFCK5tZ_h-OZQp207Z7k9HNTYChyphenhyphenRB_JIiOmzOI_7JIvrV1UuegLoax8FsXmyc8aV9QYzoQ-_QKMbv1nTrprtJrpk8motD/s1600-h/Mat%C3%A9.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGe_7OXgtAt90vaO6ECotWm-SG5Mu-4tEtfPd9SrxemXwg2DFCK5tZ_h-OZQp207Z7k9HNTYChyphenhyphenRB_JIiOmzOI_7JIvrV1UuegLoax8FsXmyc8aV9QYzoQ-_QKMbv1nTrprtJrpk8motD/s320/Mat%C3%A9.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297587180921691778" border="0" /></a><br />The Holiday Inn hotel room was a real treat from Jeremy and I am thankful that he got it for us. The prince and the popper had a blast together and we certainly laughed a lot. I wish I had room to share all of the stories that happend with the week we spent together in regards to our different travel styles, but I have already bored you enough. I spent more money then I normally would have, but we had a blast. Jeremy saved a hell of a lot of money too and probably even MADE money since he wasn´t spending it back in Austin...amazing, right?<br />Jeremy had another week or so in Argentina, but he expressed to me that he was not going to continue traveling with me. He needed a vacation and wanted to relax and he clearly would not get that from his backpacking amiga, Andrea. Plus, my friend Lark from Austin was coming to travel the last 3 weeks with me...she would also be on a strict budget and Jeremy knew that we would out rule him on every travel decision. So...Jeremy and I parted ways when we got back to Buenos Aires and I met up with my friend Lark....only 3 more weeks of my adventure in South America before I head home to Texas for a bit (tear....it will be sad to leave!).Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3079759319029312678.post-57358824132112386922009-01-20T19:14:00.000-08:002009-01-20T21:32:49.586-08:00goodbyes...and COLOMBIA!!!My last day in Banos was an interesting day for me...probably one that I will never forget. I was kind of in a weird mood because I was leaving a place that I had really grown to love...my home more or less for the past 2 months. I felt weird because I was leaving and I never knew if I would actually see these people or this city again in my life. One thing I have learned about traveling...is you have to say goodbye a lot. It is not one of my favorite parts of travel...<br />I had gone back and forth about leaving Banos and heading with my friend, Marina, to Colombia. My package had not arrived yet and I knew if I left without it, that I would probably never see it again. But for some reason...I just knew it was time for me to move on. I needed to be in Buenos Aires by the 15th of January so only had about 10 days of travel for Colombia. Marina agreed to travel quickly with me up to Medellin and see me off to Argentina. I thought that was very cool of her to do...she didn't have to travel all the way with me, but we enjoyed traveling with each other and knew we would have a good time.<br />The last day of Banos was also the day that I had to say goodbye to Tamara. Tamara was a special person to me because she was one of the first good friends I met as a solo female traveler. As I mentioned previously, she is this extremely outgoing, friendly person from Portland, Oregon. I really enjoyed her friendship and learned a lot from her...especially how to be open and meet people and make connections. This skill will help me so much in my future solo travels. Anyways....a few tears later and we said our goodbyes. However, I know I will see her again...we have way too much fun together to not hang out again :)<br />I also went and said goodbye to my teachers and a couple of friends around town. I soaked up my last glances of Banos....the waterfall that fell into town and the mountains surrounded the city. I really REALLY hope I can come back here someday. I know I have a lot of travel ahead, but I fell in love with this town.<br />Marina and I boarded the bus and gave each other a look of exhaustion. We had a HUGE day of travel ahead of us. Our goal was to make it across the Colombian border in the same day....a goal that was slim of obtaining since border crossings usually mean hours and hours of lines and bullshit. We had heard HORROR stories of trying to get into Colombia. But we were in it together....we would be fine. As I got on the bus I received a text from my friend Dario who I had a falling out with a few days prior. He wished me good travels and apologized for some things that had happend. I am not sure why, but the text put a smile on my face. I hate to leave things in a bad manner...and I felt good that he sent me the text. In case I ever go back to Banos, we would be friends again.<br />As one last attempt to get my package, I decided to stop in the town that it was supposed to arrive to, and tell the post office to return the package to sender when it did finally arrive. Marina and I hopped off the bus in the other town and grabbed a cab to the post office. I was still kinda out of it because of the goodbyes from Banos and my mind was a bit cloudy. We got to the post office and I smuggly walked up to try and sort out the situation and see how to get my package back home. Marina is totally fluent in Spanish and was able to help me talk to the clerk. When I gave him my name he looked at me and said "Andrea....Andrea Galant". I was like...yeah thats me...I need to return to sender. Then I looked over to the corner of the room and saw the Trinity Publications box...and the clerk explained that they did in fact have my package and have been holding it since the 16th of DECEMBER!!!!! I was in shock. I could not believe that they had the silly package after all. I had gone to the Banos post office day after day asking about the package and it was sitting in Ambato for the past 3 weeks. I was on cloud nine....the day was so weird and filled with all sorts of emotions. It was like Marina and I were floating on this cloud to Colombia and everything seemed to be working out (which is pretty rare on travel days). I opened the bag and found my ipod, bra, perfume, holiday cookies from Jatana, and our family christmas card. I have no idea why, but I really needed this package....it felt great to see my family in the pictures and to have some personal belongings from home.<br />Marina and I...totally taken back that my package had arrived...hopped back on the bus and stuffed our faces with holiday cookies. Today was going to be a good day, I could already tell. We went from city to city hopping on buses and getting to the next place seamlessly. We both could not believe how easy everything was going...we knew we would arrive to the border late at night and hoped that it would be open and we would be able to cross. Finally, after one full day of bus travel, we arrived to the border town in Ecuador. We both walked up to the border office and saw a line of people standing outside. Most of them were Colombians trying to get into Ecuador...they would have to wait until the next morning though since the office was about to close. They told Marina and I as well that they were not taking anymore people for the night. We were so frustrated....it was about 15 minute ride back to the border town and that meant more money to spend on a cab. We sat outside for a few moments...frustrated...and then Marina went back to the door and knocked and got the officers attention again. In spanish she explained the situation and we both gave him the puppy eyed look of desperation. He sat there for a few moments...then let us come in the office. There were TONS of people in line inside the office and it was this major cluster. But the guy behind the counter yelled to us and asked for our passports. We ran in front of everyone in line...showed him our passports...he stamped them then told us we had about 3 minutes to run across the bridge to the Colombian side or else we would be stuck in Ecuador the rest of the night. We took off running...still not really understanding how we were able to cut in front of everyone else in line. We arrived to the Colombia border and all the lights were off...shit! we thought we missed it. Then some dude comes out of nowhere with a cigarette and tells us to relax and when he finishes his smoke he will check us into Colombia. Apparently, that was the border patrol guy. So...about 3 minutes later we got stamped into Colombia..NO QUESTIONS ASKED! I think Marina and I made record time at the border crossing...about 12 minutes exact! That just does not happen at borders...it us unheard of. We both sat on the Colombian side of the border and looked at each other gasping for air from the run...WE WERE IN FREAKING COLOMBIA!!!!!!!!!!!!! <br />Since it was so late we stayed the night in the Colombia border town and had plans to head to Pasto the next morning. Apparently, there was the Negro y Blancos festival the next day and we wanted to check it out.<br />Colombia....how can I express the emotions of my days in this wonderful country. First of all, I never once felt in danger....in fact...I felt more safe in Colombia then I did in Ecuador. There is military presence everywhere and it is very modern and clean. The Colombians welcomed Marina and me with open arms...They love tourism in their country and will do whatever they can to make you feel welcomed. Everyone was so nice and would go out of their way to help you. From the experiences that I had, Colombians were much nicer then the Peruvians or Ecuadorians... <br />So we arrived to Pasto which had this crazy festival going on called Negros Y Blancos. The day before was "Negro" day where they smear grease and paint on everyones faces. The day we arrived was "Blanco" where they throw flour and shoot foam at each other. We got off the bus and met some lovely fellows who decided to help us find a hotel. As we were walking some kids ran at us and threw white flour all over us. It was pretty ironic...here we were...our first day in Colombia...Covered in white powder! We found a hotel and put on our worst clothes possible. Then, we headed out into the town to experience one of the wildest days of my life...one of the greatest festivals on earth. Thousands of people were throwing flour and shooting foam at each other. It was all OVER us! Even the cops were getting involved with the festival and they were actually the main targets among the locals. We had plenty of foam fights with the colombian police. Check out some of the <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/andrea.galant/ColombiaPasto#">pictures</a>!<br />It was a hilarious day!!! <br />The next day we headed to Cali, which is the salsa capital of Colombia and also the plastic surgery capital of the WORLD! Not to mention, the city is located in a valley so it is steaming hot. We spent about 3 days there in a fun hostel and met some pretty interesting characters. One night we went to this bar that had a live salsa band. They were awesome. Beautiful girls were dancing salsa perfectly. It was actually really intimidating! I wish I could dance salsa like these women, but my body just won't move like that. The next day, our friend Tim that we met in Banos, met up with us in Cali as well. We all hung out and found this great dive bar. We called it the dirty hot salsa club...it was perfect! We met some guys who tried teaching us how to salsa dance. The club closed at about 2am, but for some reason we were all ready to party. This short, fat, mafia looking guy asked us if we wanted to go with him to this salsa discotec about 12km out of town. Marina and I said "of course we do" and grabbed the 5 other guys we were hanging with from our hostel. I am pretty sure the chubby mafia guy was not planning on us bringing 5 other guys....it was funny. We all found ourselves at this insanely big discotec dancing to salsa and drinking Aguadiente, which is the nasties liquor ever. We danced until 5AM! Finally, we made it home and decided to go grab breakfast....we didn't get to bed until about 8am in the morning! That is how you roll in Cali, Colombia....geeez we were exhausted!<br />After the blow out night we decided that we should leave and head to a small village town to do some hiking and dry out for a bit. So...Tim, Marina, and I had a full day of bus travel to the quaint town of Salento. Salento is beautiful...it is in the coffee country and is surrounded by rolling hills and lush trees. One of their biggest attractions are the wax palm trees. They are these stunningly tall palm trees that grow throughout the jungle area. When we went hiking we had some great views of the coffee area and the palm trees. After our hike we were starving, but we had been eating so bad and drinking so much. I decided that I would have an attempt at cooking my hostel mates a good healthy meal. I decided to cook my mom's famous taco salad. I forgot, however, that we were in some small village where half the ingredients were missing. So I re-named the salad to Colombian Hostel Taco Salad. It was actually really amazing....tons of veggies, avacado, mango, fresco cheese, chopped beef, with doritos crumbled on top. We grubbed big time!<br />The next day we headed up to Medellin...my final destination in Colombia. This was my last night to hang out with my friends before we all went in different directions. Medellin was a really nice city. It used to be the cocain capital of the world, but since Escobar died they have had time to clean it up...and clean it up they did do. The city is super modern and very nice...the mayor also declared it a bilingual city so most everyone speaks english as well. Since it was our last night we decided to go grab some drinks and have one last hoo-rah together. We met some other peeps from the hostel and headed out to some trendy bar. When I was there, I met this lovely Colombian fella named Andres. He was extremely nice and we ended up hanging out most of the night. He has traveled a lot and had similar interests so we had some great conversation. I told him how I was leaving at 8pm the following day and how it was a shame that we could not hang out more. He invited me and Marina to lunch the next day and said he would show us the town. So, the next day we met him for lunch and had a lovely time....then he spent the rest of the day taking us around Medellin. It was a really fantastic day. I only had a short visit to Medellin, but thanks to Andres, I was able to see a whole lot! On top of it all, Andres offered to take me to the airport which was 30km outside of town (a $20 cab ride!) Both him and Marina drove me to the airport to see me off to Argentina. Good thing they came too bc it was a bit of a process for me to get through customs. Apparently, since I bought my plane ticket in Colombia, they charged me a "colombian" tax, but since I am not Colombian...they ended up giving me $30 back....they literally handed me money back in the airport. I didn't know what the hell was going on and thought they were setting me up for some drug mule scene. Then, after they gave me money they told me that I needed to prove that I was leaving Argentina. I have an outgoing flight, but my ticket was only online. So I had to go to some random room to print out my ticket to prove I was going to leave Argentina.....it was this whole long PROCESS! Getting out of Colombia was not as easy as getting in. Marina and Andres helped so much with the translations...if I was alone...I think I would still be in the airport at this moment in time trying to figure out the whole process.<br />ANOTHER GOODBYE.....It was hard to say goodbye to Marina. I really enjoyed traveling with her...she is a really lovely person with an awesome spirit. I shared many great experiences with her. We hugged in the airport and knew that it would be a long time before we ever saw each other again. I got a little teary eyed but did my best to hold everything back. <br />As soon as I left them my mind went blank....I was on my own again...I had not been on my own for about a month. All of a sudden I realized that I did not remember anymore spanish. I couldn't understand anyone. The security people kept asking me questions and I could not understand them...I walked aimlessly through the airport and somehow managed to get to my gate. My mind was spinning because the last 10 days of my life had been a whirlwind and I just left another travel companion. On top of that...I just met this amazing guy that showed me his city...what kind of life was I living? Each day was so different from the next. I seriously almost had a weird breakdown in the airport...so many different emotions were going through my head. Goodbyes are hard...I miss Tamara and Marina...I miss Banos and my friends there...Colombia was amazing and I wished I had more time to spend there...where was I going? What more adventures did I have ahead of me? Am I stable enough for this type of lifestyle??? So much movement and uprooting and goodbyes and unsettling...but at the same time, so much adventure and meeting new people and experiencing unbeliveable things! I am really enjoying traveling...but it is not as easy as I thought...at least not emotionally. (Gosh it sucks being an emotional woman sometimes :)<br />The next day I was meeting up with my friend Jeremy. He made a last minute trip to come see me (and clear his mind with some things in his life). So...as messed up in the head as I was during that flight to Argentina...I was really glad to know that I would be seeing a familiar face the next day. Somehow...things always happen for a reason and work out in really odd ways. HELLO ARGENTINA.....HOLA JEREMY! A new country....a new adventure!Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17245946926150639617noreply@blogger.com0