Timing is everything...

I hate goodbyes.

2010-02-24T20:48:00.000-08:00

This is my final post on Blogger. I've decided to jump ship and start a blog on Wordpress, thus moving forward, I'll be writing on that platform.

Check out and bookmark/Follow my new digs.

Quote of the Day

2010-02-22T17:12:00.000-08:00

"The individual, if empowered, will be able to sustain the aid that eventually goes away."

-Lesley Desaulniers, founder of The Authenticity Project (See full article @ The Good 100)

Everyone Should Have a Trade

2010-02-22T16:27:00.000-08:00

I've now had several conversations with Aaron, relatives, and friends about how members of my generation don't possess many tangible skills - skills that might cushion a harsh lay off or unexpected turns in life. This is disadvantageous to society, in general. Why else did we take shop or home economic classes as teenagers in high school? Educational institutions, teachers, and parents should make more of an effort to encourage students (especially young children) to explore various types of crafts and artistry. It's detrimental to students when elders counter their creative aspirations to become singers, actors, writers, painters, chefs, etc. with saying something along the lines of, "You'll never make a decent living doing that." Creativity should be rewarded, now so maybe more than ever.

Just recently, I joined a number of groups and associations through the professional social networking site, LinkedIn, to become educated about the topics being discussed in journalism and multimedia industries today. Being a new member of these organizations, I automatically receive updates and notifications in my Gmail inbox every time a new discussion begins or a post is made addressed to the group. Today, one such notification highlighted an article that chronicles several job seekers who weighed the possibility of going into professions in which they use their hands and found success or personal fulfillment (or both). John Melendez, the author of this article , encourages individuals to take risks when opportunities are presented (especially when circumstances allow for transition in one's life) and applauds the people he profiled for their departure from white to blue-collar work.

Melendez wrote another article about one man's decision to simplify his life and un-clutter his mind once he was laid off. After reading this piece, you might get the sense that Bob enters a realm of something similar to Buddhism, realizing how little he needs to survive, how to adjust to a slower pace of life, and how to enjoy and live in the moment. These are all things we can learn to do.

My first 10K of 2010

2010-02-21T10:29:00.000-08:00

Just completed the Chinese New Year Run in Chinatown over an hour ago. Came in at 1 hr., 2 min., and 5 seconds (average of 10 min. miles). Not bad for having gotten less than 4 hours of sleep, raindrops coming down as soon as we launched off, and not having formally trained since December 2008. My goal is to finish the Oakland Running Festival 1/2 next month at around 1:50. That's a pace of approximately 8:40. Still a lot of running to be done over the next five weeks.

An Homage to Young Love (in Vietnam)

2010-02-16T00:37:00.000-08:00

I've finally converted some of the RAW photos I took during the trip. Although I haven't taken the time to experiment with these images in Photoshop, I'd like to show you a few that I took following lovebirds around Hoan Kiem lake in central Hanoi.

Dave Eggers and McSweeney's Roadshow

2010-02-12T02:14:00.001-08:00

Earlier tonight, a few friends accompanied me to Cal's Sibley Auditorium to listen to Dave Eggers speak about the (not sure if controversial is the right word) publication of Panorama. The contributions made by he, several editors, and staffers of the 300+ page one-time edition newspaper were sheer brilliance. I could not help but think: Wow, we are in the presence of great forward-thinking individuals.

To give you some background: In the 1990s, Dave Eggers started his career in the SF Bay Area as a journalist with skills in graphic design. He eventually began to write, edit, and publish work for several news organizations and magazines. Having penned a successful memoir, several novels, compilations of interviews and essays, as well as major motion picture screenplays (last year's Where the Wild Things Are and Away We Go), he founded an independent publishing house, McSweeney's, and played a major role in establishing a non-profit writing and tutoring center for school-aged children in SF's Mission district called 826 Valencia (aka "the Pirate Shop").

Eggers' activism in local communities is not only a driving force for children's renewed interest in the literary arts, it's safe to say that he's spearheaded the wave of questions we've directed towards the news industry and encouraged us to hold journalists accountable in how they provide information to the public.

Some of the points Eggers and his peers touched on last night were:
-The misinformation to the public that print news agencies are "dying"
-Why it makes logical business sense to charge readers for online content (and how it hurts papers that don't)
-The connection between newspapers and the level of corruption in government (i.e. Journalists help hold governments accountable for decisions and actions that affect the public.)
-The graphics, size, and colors displayed in print newspapers (i.e. the importance of aesthetic factors in attracting, as well as retaining readership)
-Allowing writers or reporters to write in long form (the notion that an article should be as long as it needs to be so that the message or information is complete)
-Critical fact-checking processes and the disposal of these departments in newspapers (due to cuts in operating costs). We need to see this as a loss of credibility in the paper.
-Reinvesting in investigative journalism. (ie. No news organization even thought to ask how much the new Bay Bridge was going to cost - twice as much as expected! Where parts were coming from - China! The safety of the bridge! Etc.)
-The physiological experience derived from reading print newspapers (stimulating, relaxing, engaging!), as opposed to reading the news from multiple online sources (distracting, jumpy, stressful!)
-The lifespan of readership (pouring over the comics as a child, moving onto different sections throughout your lifetime, the habitual reading of certain editorials and columns...this is the relationship you establish with a paper)

As someone who is fascinated by the amount of changes this particular industry is facing, I was blown away by the presentation. More than 12 hours later, I'm still thinking about certain points made and unabashedly inspired by the questions that still need to be answered. If you have not purchased your own copy of the Panorama, I highly suggest you make a trip out to 826 Valencia. Why purchase the paper there? What normally costs $16 is only going to cost you $5 (money you would've dropped on a latte that's going to give you a stomachache). Let's try to keep this form of news above water and do our part to make the industry cognizant of our loyalty.

Correction: Cost is $16 at 826 Valencia if you buy the issue after the day it's printed.

Watch NBC News tonight!

2010-02-10T18:06:00.000-08:00

Just received a call from my friend, Gabi, who was going to join my girlfriends and me for dinner @ Nopa tonight. She had to cancel because she was just invited to be on NBC tonight at 11pm, a feature they are doing on Broke Ass Gourmet!!! Congratulations, Gabi! That press coverage is going to be MASSIVE in getting the word out there! I am truly ecstatic for you! Hopefully, I can record or catch it on YouTube...

***Updated: Here's the actual segment .

What does it mean to be a Hipster?

2010-02-09T12:57:00.000-08:00

There is a creative revolution happening here. More and more people I meet are leaving stable, traditional, 9-5 jobs to pursue study or work in fields they feel passionate about. Or they are taking risks to try to determine what they feel passionate about. Here's my question - is it just that time when peers from my generation are supposed to be hopping from job to job or is this an indication of some sort of movement on a larger scale?

Aaron first told me about the latest "Be Stupid" Diesel ads when I got back into town. Being an advertising student, it's his prerogative to analyze, dissect, and learn from ads in all industries. Without having visualized what he was describing, I initially thought Diesel's campaign sounded weak. This morning, as I walked along California St. going back up to my apartment, I noticed Diesel posters hanging on a wall before reaching Fillmore (pictured below). One declared "Smart may have the brains, but Stupid has the balls," and another "Smart Critiques. Stupid Creates." It's obvious that being "Smart" is associated with staying within boundaries, not breaking any rules, thus not stepping outside of the box. "Stupid" is being glamorized with the notion that your heart is making your decisions, not your head.

Here is Diesel's Stupid Philosophy:

Like balloons, we are filled with hopes and dreams. But. Over time a single sentence creeps into our lives. Don’t be stupid. It’s the crusher of possibility. It’s the worlds greatest deflator. The world is full of smart people. Doing all kind of smart things… That's smart. Well, we’re with stupid. Stupid is the relentless pursuit of a regret free life. Smart may have the brains…
but stupid has the balls. The smart might recognize things for how they are. The stupid see things for how they could be. Smart critiques. Stupid creates. The fact is if we didn't have stupid thoughts wed have no interesting thoughts at all. Smart may have the plans… but stupid has the stories. Smart may have the authority but stupid has one hell of a hangover. Its not smart to take risks… Its stupid. To be stupid is to be brave. The stupid aren't afraid to fail. The stupid know there are worse things than failure… like not even trying. Smart had one good idea, and that idea was stupid. You can’t outsmart stupid. So don’t even try. Remember only stupid can be truly brilliant. (Source: Creative Ad Awards)

I find this interesting at a time when it seems as if interest in the arts is being revived. Not that interest was dead, but lately everywhere I turn, I see posters for improv and performance art shows, multimedia workshops, endless discussions regarding how people are getting their news. The list goes on. I find myself signing up to attend lectures, exhibits, and shows for topics spread across the full spectrum. I'm paying to see bands that I've never heard of. It's becoming more and more important to be well-rounded in a culturally aware, technologically capable, and idea-driven society.

So, why am I asking what it means to be a hipster? When I think of the Diesel ads, I think of how the campaign most likely reached out to the hipster audience. According to the online Princeton dictionary, a hipster is someone who rejects the established culture and advocates extreme liberalism in politics and lifestyle. According to Urban Dictionary: Listens to bands that you have never heard of. Has hairstyle that can only be described as "complicated." (Most likely achieved by a minimum of one week not washing it.) Probably tattooed. Maybe gay. Definitely cooler than you. Reads Black Book, Nylon, and the Styles section of the New York Times. Drinks Pabst Blue Ribbon. Often. Complains. Always denies being a hipster. Hates the word. Probably living off parents money - and spends a great deal of it to look like they don't have any. Has friends and/or self cut hair. Dyes it frequently (black, white-blonde, etc. and until scalp bleeds). Has a closet full of clothing but usually wears same three things OVER AND OVER (most likely very tight black pants, scarf, and ironic tee-shirt). Chips off nail polish artfully after $50 manicure. Sleeps with everyone and talks about it at great volume in crowded coffee shops. Addicted to coffee, cigarettes (Parliaments, Camel Reds, Lucky Strikes, etc.), and possibly cocaine. Claims to be in a band. Rehearsals consist of choosing outfits for next show and drinking PBR. Always on the list. Majors or majored in art, writing, or queer studies. Name-drops. May go by "Penny Lane," "Eleanor Rigby," etc. when drunk. On PBR. Which is usually.

Is it possible that we all have a little bit of hipster in us? Yet, we more often than not make fun of them. I think it may have something to do with envy. Maybe they know something we don't. Maybe all that angst and counterculture is present for a reason. Everyone wants to be different. But then again, being a hipster doesn't make you all that different, these days.

My point is, the rise of this most recent population coined as hipsters is in parallel to the rise of investment in creativity. It's exciting to be witness to the upcoming changes taking place in the arts and cultural world. Not only am I more aware of this revolutionary place in time, I am looking forward to being part of it.

Feeling this song right now...

2010-02-08T23:19:00.000-08:00

Chasing Pavement

2010-02-08T15:03:00.000-08:00

It's official. After months of traveling, making excuses about the weather being too cold, and plain putting it off, I went on a run this morning. It was just like I remembered it: me, the ground, crisp San Francisco air, brief familiar scenes I'm witness to whenever I go for a jog...

Stopping only to sip water from rusty fountains along the way, snap a few photos using my G1, and pet the occasional mutt, I felt like I could continue for hours. On a day when you can clearly see the GG Bridge, the ocean is gentle and shimmering, and dog walkers are playing fetch with their collective masses, it's hard not to feel like one of the luckiest people in the States. We live in such an incredible city. I turn to do a 360 and check off views of green mountains, tiny islands, the Bridge, the identifiable Exploratorium, grassy fields, a sandy beach littered with only a few people enjoying the gorgeous day, and the long dirt trail where runners come to unwind, gather their thoughts, and stretch their muscles. I am fully appreciating San Francisco and the generosity its shown me over the last few years.

These haven't seen the light of day since sliding down wet muddy hills in Sapa, Vietnam....

It's just you and the ground...

This is for you, Rami

2010-02-08T11:40:00.000-08:00

http://www.racialicious.com/2010/02/04/why-date-or-marry-asian-women/

Arrrrrguably one of the strangest things I've done in a while...

2010-02-03T16:00:00.000-08:00

About a year ago, I came across the website for a new company, The Go Game, that organizes scavenger hunts for companies in the SF Bay Area. Thinking it might be, at least, amusing, I added my name and contact information to the sign up sheet of potential actors (or plants) they could use to play parts in what they call "GO games". I'd never had the time to participate in these games, since I worked the traditional 8-5 most weekdays, but now that I have most Monday through Fridays fairly open, I signed up for a specific event to occur in SOMA/Union Square last Tuesday.

This is how it works:
A) You subscribe to the Go Game's mailing list.
B) The game "runner" (aka organizer) blasts an email out to individuals on the mailing list describing the dates of, companies participating, and locations of upcoming events.
C) You reply to the game runner listing all events you are available to participate in and wait to hear back on confirmation.
D) Once confirmed, you receive instructions on: any costumes or props that you might need to wear or bring and the time and date to meet. No details on what to expect, nor what your part will be. It's the uncertainty that makes this almost exhilarating.
E) Another factor that provides incentive for signing up is the fact that you're paid for the 2-3 hours you participate as an actor or plant. The average rate is $60 per event. Not bad, huh?

On Tuesday, I bussed over to Howard & 4th, where the Yerba Buena Gardens carousel sits, and met with the game runner, as well as some of the other actors/plants signed up to participate in this game. It was quite a mixed crowd. The other actors ranged from employed SF residents who had a few hours to kill to local college students trying to make a quick buck doing something different and quirky.

Upon arrival, we each received a check for $60, as well as a printout of details regarding our roles and the overall mission of the game. I was to dress up as a pirate and administer 20 Questions and Chubby Bunny games to several groups from Google's headquarters. Once I understood what was expected of me, I walked over to the Powell St. Bart station and went downstairs where I knew there would be adequate traffic from people leaving work and getting on or off the train. Standing there, waiting for the groups to arrive, I was approached by young delinquents who offered to keep me company, a retired Navy officer who was curious as to what I was doing in pirate gear standing in a public place freezing my butt off and asking me very personal questions, and a few grizzly bums who told me to "go sell drugs on another street!" First of all, I had a pen and notebook in my hand. Secondly, I don't think I could ever resemble a drug dealer, even if I tried. And finally, where was everyone's sense of humor? I had expected casual bystanders to come by and ask me what I was doing, but if I wasn't being hit on, I was being hassled.

I'm not sure I would participate in another Go Game, but I have to say, that was probably the easiest $60 I've made. At least, since I stopped selling drugs.

BrokeAsses Unite

2010-02-03T14:25:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine is throwing an anniversary party at Hobson's Choice tomorrow celebrating the success of BrokeAss Gourmet. Details, per Gabi, are below. Hope you can make it out (and remember to bring cash for the raffle tickets).

Exactly one year ago on February 4, BrokeAss Gourmet (http://www.brokeassgourmet.com) launched. Come celebrate a year of wonderful cooking, eating, drinking and fun on a budget at Hobson's Choice in San Francisco, where BrokeAss Gourmet bartender Laith Hassan (http://brokeassgourmet.com/articles/the-monkey-spanker) will be mixing drinks and stealing hearts.

Additionally we'll be selling raffle tickets for several prizes, including an immersion blender, a gift certificate to Trader Joe's and a dinner party catered by your favorite BrokeAss, Gabi Moskowitz. Proceeds will go to Haiti earthquake relief.

This feels like limbo...

2010-01-31T16:47:00.000-08:00

It's strange to think that I don't have to wake up at a certain time tomorrow, though I know I'll start to toss and turn before 7 - a biological default.

Mondays. They don't mean to me what they did just 4 months ago.

Since I no longer have a steady stream of income that accompanies a safety net of health, vision, dental insurance, pre-taxed bus passes, and bonus checks at the end of every excruciating sales quarter, it's safe to assume that I'll be making a few lifestyle changes. No longer will I be eager to spend over $30 a meal at a trendy new restaurant listed in the City Dish newsletter I receive in my inbox every week. It's likely that I'll take a few more minutes than usual to weigh how much I really need or want to attend the latest headliner at the Fillmore next Thursday night. I've started to conserve the number of text messages I send, seeing that I've gone over the 400 monthly limit T-Mobile allows on my plan for the last year. I've even considered, heaven forbid (and no pun intended), canceling my monthly membership at the JCC on Cal and Presidio to save the $99/mon. while unemployed. I mean - I have legs. I know how to use them. I have a bike, and I know how to ride it. Maybe this unemployed me will lead to a healthier me. Less excess. More simplifying. Consuming only what I need. There's that positive thinking again.

With the substantial amount of time that I'll now have during the day, I've begun to develop a solid reading list. My sister Wendy, who came back for my aunt's funeral yesterday, might be one of the most offensive gift givers I've ever met. One year, she gave me a Garden State DVD for Christmas. It would have been a great gift, except for the fact that I knew she had two versions of the movie perched on her bookshelf in Brooklyn and was giving me the one she received from a friend most recently. Last night, she told me she had two new books for me. One was Mountains Beyond Mountains, and the other was What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami. That's funny, I thought. She already gave me the latter last year for my birthday! How quickly she forgot. I could not stop laughing, even as she refused to believe that she had already given me the memoir. Anyway, having registered for the Chinatown Year of the Tiger 10K next month and the Oakland Running Festival in late March, many of my mornings between now and then will begin with a long run, or so I plan. I'm hoping the Murakami memoir is going to provide inspiration as did both of Dean Karnazes' titles when I read them in 2008.

There are no girls in San Francisco....or are there?

2010-01-28T14:35:00.000-08:00

As one of my favorite blogs to peruse when surfing the net for updates on Tiger's progress, upcoming concerts and shows, and now job and academic opportunities, Why There Are No Girls in San Francisco never fails to draw a few laughs and agreed upon epiphanies. I visit the assertive site once every so often to further remind myself not to take the dynamics between men and women too seriously.

The day I got back from snowboarding with a special someone in Tahoe, I had to drop off the rental SUV close to Union Square and head back to Pac Heights to move my parent's old Mercedes in order to prevent getting a $53 parking ticket. (Yes, the price has gone up in the city - they get us again.) As I stood on the sidewalk trying to flag a taxi, I noticed the light changed and a yellow cab came flying at me from across the street. I opened the door, and the driver did a quick clean of the backseat so I had room to sit. He looked back at me, smiled, and said "Hi, how are you today?" Oh cool, a friendly driver - I love these guys! I told him how my day was going and how tired I was from the weekend and from the trip I had taken. We started talking about the countries I had visited, and he asked me all of the usual questions I'd heard from friends and family over the last week. I asked him where he was from (turns out he is from Jordan), found out that he had only started driving recently because it allowed him to bring in a higher income than his previous job, he was in his thirties, and that he is now into Asian girls. Wait, rewind...how did I come to know about his little fetish, you ask?

Rami: Wait, before you get out of car, I need to tell you something.
Me: Okay...
Rami: I just had conversation with my sister not long ago. I tell her - I am sick of other women. I need to find myself Asian girlfriend.
Me: (Laughing) Ha, why's that?
Rami: The other women, they are so....these days. If I find Asian girl to date - they treat me good, they respect me. I think this is what I need.
Me: But what if they aren't all like that? You know, many Asian girls are more modern now and you might be surprised if you meet one that will make you think you are dating an American. What if that happens - won't you be disappointed if you go looking for just one type of woman?
Rami: No, I don't think so. I used to have Korean girlfriend. We were for 1 year. It didn't last, but she was so good to me. That's why from now on, I date Asian girl. When I first saw you standing there, I said to myself, no one is going to drive her home but me. That's why I drove so fast to pick you up. I give you my number so we can go on date. If you ever want to smoke a joint, just call me.
Winnie: (Mortified, but still laughing) Um, okay. Thank you. Have a great day, Rami.

Has the dating scene in San Francisco gotten so stale that cab drivers are now asking their passengers out on dates? I can never decide whether this city is most ideal for singles or people in relationships. I guess it doesn't have to be one way or the other. Many people never want to leave this 7x7 nook because it's likely that it accommodates both sides of the spectrum. Having been both single and in relationships within the last 3 years, I don't recall having complained about the lack of quality men nor the variety of venues in which to meet them in the city. So why is it that the author of the blog, Rami, and many of my single male friends are always griping about how there aren't any cool girls around, and if there are, they're usually taken? I think we all need to stop being so picky. I mean - never, never, ever settle for less than you deserve. But really, I think we need to start giving people 2nd chances. There have been multiple times where I've met a guy on a first date and just didn't feel any sparks. What if we went out for a second date? Would the first date nerves have gone away and would the other person's true personality come through? Who knows? I won't because I didn't go on that second date.

Next time you meet someone of the opposite sex, don't write them off so quickly. You never know what they could mean to you in the future.

A New Direction

2010-01-26T20:01:00.001-08:00

In an attempt to pursue a profession that would enable me to interact with individuals, groups, and organizations whom each have a story to tell (and the world would benefit from hearing their stories), I am seeking Journalism and Documentary Filmmaking as career prospects. Having been back in the U.S. for a week, the pressure to research academic programs, as well as freelance work and internships has crept up on me.

Because I have little, actually no, experience in these fields, I know it's going to be a challenge to present my proposals to organizations seeking writers and production interns. I'm currently applying to internships and part-time positions in San Francisco, but if you know of any opportunities that might be of interest, please pass them my way.

Thank you!

2010-01-22T21:34:00.000-08:00

Dedicating this blog to my beautiful, loving, full of life Aunt who left us today. May she rest in peace and may her wonderful daughters and husband live long, happy, and fulfilling lives.

I love you, Aunt Kitty.

Highlights

2010-01-22T02:11:00.001-08:00

Since returning a few days ago, a few people have asked me, "What are some of the most memorable moments during your trip in Southeast Asia?" While a whole series of events flash through my mind when I hear that, I do have some favorite memories that I'll share with you here.

1) Nate and I starting a dance party/limbo competition/congo line on the beach with our muay thai trainers, new British and Swedish friends we had met earlier that day, and other tipsy patrons enjoying "buckets" at Lotus Bar's happy hour in Koh Tao.

2) Nate, Wendy, and I beer garden-ing and clubbing with Bangkok locals after a group of university students invited us over to their table to help them finish off their Singha "towers."

3) Riding a rusty, worn-down bike before the sunrise to see Angkor Wat.

4) Smoking what was sold as Cubans and contemplating the meaning of friendship, the complexities of marriage, and the anticipation about the future with Nate in Siem Reap. (If you only saw the flow charts we drafted in my Moleskin. I still laugh every time I flip to those pages.)

5) Meeting Bahn in Sapa and freezing my butt off trekking up to the mountain homestay.

6) Eating Bun Cha for almost every meal in Hanoi.

7) Meeting the Australian cougar at Le Pub who hated me at first and then proceeded (by the end of the night) to tell me that I could move in with her whenever I wanted to visit Melbourne. She could (in a slurred voice) "help make it happen," because her and I were "the same."

8) Recovering from whatever mosquito-bourne disease I had in Ho Chi Minh City.

9) Finally seeing my mom and meeting the extended family in Surabaya. The nicest people you could ever meet.

10) Lombok and my very own 5 cougars who treated me as one of their own. (Does that make me a bobcat?)

11) Happy Cafe

12) Dancing (more like moshing) with the eccentric, elder, local HK guy who's a regular at Peele Fresca

I'm sure there's more, but those are the first that come to mind. I still don't believe it's almost been three months. What's next? you might ask. Well, I guess I can tell you when I see you.

Good night, and signing off. For now.

HK, I will see you later...

2010-01-20T23:06:00.000-08:00

Originally, I was to stay in Hong Kong until the end of January. I hadn't booked a return flight, but figured I'd fly back along with my mom who was leaving on the 26th. When news of the critical condition my aunt was in came over from the States, we knew we had to leave early to support my dad, grandma, and my aunt's family. Thus my mom left on the 18th, and I the day after.

My self-assigned photo project would have to wait, as a week was too brief to document what I think truly portrays life in Hong Kong.

I was able to spend a lot of time visiting more family and even got a few chances to meet up with my good friend Alexandra whom I met in the dorms during our first year at UCSB. We've been close since, but because she lives down in LA and I'm up in SF, it's not often we see each other. Hell, she didn't even know that my ex and I had parted ways in 2008!

We met for dinner at a Shanghai restaurant in Tong Loi Wan (aka Causeway Bay) and then headed to the Soho district for drinks after. (Soho is an area lined with intimate little bars, restaurants, art galleries, and design studios. Somewhat modern, bohemian, and so very inviting.) She knew of a place called Peele Fresca and mentioned they had Latin night on Thursdays, so we decided to check it out. We danced salsa, drank sangria, befriended the band, and took a few shots with the locals sitting next to us. I quickly remembered how much fun I have when she is around.

What I was disappointed about not being witness to was the protest that was carried out in HK's Central district during the first few days I was there. Many students and liberal residents were violently defending the small village community in Choi Yuen Tsuen that would be affected by the construction of a new railway line. The villagers are being ordered to vacate their homes (with promise of compensation) in order to make way for this new line that would link China's Guangzhou and Shenzhen to HK's commercial hub. About a week ago, lawmakers in HK approved funding (approx. $66.9 billion HKD, which is $8.6 bil USD) for the rail line. The thousands of protesters and local authorities quickly escalated to violence, but fortunately, it only lasted for a day. When I asked my relatives what the popular opinion on this opposition was, they expressed that this was just another way for people to gain momentum on public opposition towards the local government and many individuals were using this specific instance as a vehicle to express their encompassing views. Supporters of the proposal argue that this link will place HK in a strategically positive position with China - by creating more job opportunities, decreasing the time it takes to travel between the three cities, and "helping to reinforce Hong Kong’s status as a transport, financial and commercial hub of China," according to a press release published by the HK government back in October. Do the benefits outweigh the costs? Most likely. It still would have been interesting to hear directly from the people who participated in this event.

One thing I did do, and it's something my family and I always do when we come back, is go to see an HK film. I chose Bodyguards and Assassins, which was recommended to me by a flamboyant hairdresser I met at a salon. When I asked him to tell me what it was about, he said it clarified a small portion of Hong Kong history. That's all it took for me to write down the name and head over to the theater to buy a ticket.

The film was about a sole group of patriotic individuals who plotted to help Dr. Sun Yat-Sen (regarded as the nation's founding father) arrive and depart HK safely, avoiding the wrath of assassins hired by the Empress of the Qing Dynasty. It's set in 1906 and portrays the people's earnest hope for a revolution. The political leader and influential revolutionary was self-exiled and living in Tokyo at the time, however, had plans to meet with 13 delegates from Mainland China to discuss a unified uprising to overthrow the Qing Dynasty. The fickle role of the British Empire, the sacrifices made for the greater good of China, and the fact that this movie was based on actual individuals and events made this film worth watching. What struck me about this film was the fact that I, as well as many other HK locals it turns out, had no idea this group existed. The group who provided protection to Dr. Yat-Sen consisted of a businessman, his son, a scholar and activist, rickshaw pullers, a hawker, and a beggar.

When I told my dad about this movie, he told me that as a child, he had the leader's picture taped up on his wall by his headboard so that every morning, he could bow to him before leaving for school. He had the utmost respect for this man, and I had only heard of him less than a handful of times before now. Our conversation inspired me to take Chinese history more seriously and try to better understand the events that led the country to be what it is today.

During the end of my trip, a friend emailed me to ask whether I was sad that the end was near. I try not to look at it that way. I feel that this may just be the beginning. I know that many travels lay ahead of me, so to answer her question, no, I'm not sad. I'm excited for what is to come, because I have learned what makes me happiest. I feel passionate about meeting people and hearing their stories and making that connection. What that is going to lead to, I'm not sure yet. I just know that I am headed in the right direction, and it feels really good.

*Being lazy and don't feel like uploading the pictures I took in Hong Kong. You should be able to view the album on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2451225&id=3612943&l=2a510c8435. Thanks for looking.

Lombok

2010-01-10T14:18:00.000-08:00

I fell so hard for this little island, I don't even want to tell you about it.

OK, I'll share a little... but promise not to tell anyone, ok?

Knowing that I was planning on staying in Lombok for three days on my own, my Yee Yee (Cantonese for Aunt) Jean, several of her best friends, sister-in-law, and cousin Faye decided to join me. It was going to be a girls' weekend. Me and a handful of sassy Chinese-Indonesian women in their 40s and 50s. Meow!

Lombok is situated to the northeast of Bali, a 25-minute flight or 2-hour ride by fast boat or ferry. Since it's fairly undeveloped - a refreshing departure from the more popular island - with clean white sand beaches and views for days, I suspect it will become a prime location for high-end resorts and boutique hotels in the next few years.

The population here is mostly Muslim, thus as a way of respecting their conservative way of life, things get even more quiet by dusk. The only places that one would seek for a night cap and live music are along the coast of Sengiggi, where most of the major resorts are. I happened to go to a place called Happy Cafe on my 2nd night in Lombok and had such a good time talking with the locals, as well as ex-pats, and listening to the cover band play Tom Petty, Bob Marley, and everything in between. When I asked Heru, the young tan bartender who makes staggeringly strong caipirinhas (trust me on this one), to request Kings of Leon, they played Welcome to My Paradise and dedicated the song to me in front of the audience. (Turns out, they didn't know all of the lyrics to KOL songs.)

Because Jean had lived here for two years when Annie was still working, she knew all of the best places to eat, the most secluded beaches to visit, and how to avoid getting ripped off. She had numerous friends who owned their own business and would send us off with treats to take on the road. Needless to say, it was on Lombok where I gained the most weight. These women LOVED to eat. Almost every time we stepped out of the car, they would buy snacks and gifts to take back to Surabaya. By the time I left Lombok, I had no appetite.

Over the course of several days, we tried to do a lot. We went to one of the oldest villages on Lombok, called Sade. We also picnic-ed at different beaches, once at Ah An and another at Mawun. These coves were stunning, and I could count on one hand how many other people were there, if any. Most of the locals that were there were these little brown kids in their birthday suits jumping into the surf and playing games with each other that I didn't understand. We also made our way over to another smaller island off Lombok, Gili Trawanan, to explore the reef along the coast. Since we arrived at Gili T in the afternoon, I didn't have enough time to go diving again, so opted to snorkel instead (I know, once you go diving, snorkeling is like playing for JV). Supposedly Gili Meno is the best of the three major Gilis. I'll save that one for next time.

When flying from Bali to Lombok, or vice versa, keep in mind that Merpati (one of the primary airlines serving both destinations) is notorious for delayed flights. This is important to note if you have connecting flights post landing on either islands and need to board your next flight during a small window of time.

Bali

2010-01-10T14:17:00.000-08:00

Having arrived in Bali, on the first day, I was greeted by Bagus (pronounced Ba-goos), a local driver hired by one of my relatives in Surabaya. Bagus was to help me out for the week and drive with me to different locations on the island (this is the sole result of having an overprotective family in a foreign country). Of course, I'm not used to having someone drive me in the States as I've had my own license since the age of 16 and a service like this is not something I could afford (nor would opt for) back home, so I wasn't comfortable with the idea of viewing Bagus as a personal "chauffeur." During the five days I stayed on Bali, I have Bagus to thank for introducing me to a plethora of new Indonesian and international music (having been oblivious to what's playing on radio stations and TV for the last two months). Surprisingly, he and his parents are huge fans of country music (think Billy Ray Cyrus, Tim McGraw, Dolly Parton) and on multiple occasions started belting out "Achy Breaky Heart" at the top of his lungs while we were riding in the car. I'm not a particular fan of the genre, but seeing his enthusiasm made me join him every single time. He called me nothing but Winnie-san the first few days since he speaks Japanese fluently and told me he thought I was Japanese when we first met. He even told me how much it usually costs to get out of a speeding ticket (1000 rupiah). I'd like to think we had fun getting to know each other that week.

Kuta

I stayed in an area called Legian the first night at a place called 14 Roses on the main drag. Legian is situated in between Kuta (the international party scene - think raucous beefcake Aussies with their shirts off) and Seminyak (a quiet, more sophisticated, and ultimately mature area featuring swanky restaurants, luxurious lounges, and intimate nooks and crannies). In many ways, it falls within the two in terms of characteristics. (If you're traveling alone, like I was, Legian is likely your best bet as you'll have the opportunity to meet people just down the street towards Kuta, but not feel overwhelmed being in the heart of it all.) 14 Roses is considered a midrange, affordable option for accomodation - a night there runs about $60 (in the high season) for a large single room with a pool and garden view.

I actually wasn't a big fan of Kuta. Walking on the beach, I had to step over a number of dead fish that had washed up to shore. When I asked Bagus about this, he said this was an effect of the pollution coming over from Java. I also wasn't fond of the notion that you have to pay at least 30,000 Indonesian rupiah (approx. $3 USD) to use a lounge chair on beachfront property for an hour. If you like the Cancun scene, and you don't mind partying with Arnolds (in his early days) and bleach-bottle blondes, Kuta is for you. For me, it was basically a shit show. The only night I spent out in Kuta that I would write home about was when I went to Apache, a reggae club that had great live music, a resident DJ, and a very mixed crowd. I actually accompanied a friendly waiter I had met at the place I had dinner at that night close to my hotel. Since Apache was right down the street, and I asked if we could walk as opposed to getting on his bike, I felt fairly safe. It turned out to be really fun, so if you're planning to go to Bali anytime soon, make Apache your first stop on a weekend night. (Just try to stay away from consuming too many "jam jars," which are the equivalent to "buckets" in Koh Tao. Many Balinese are fond of Arak, a rice spirit usually mixed with a fruit drink. You'll see an "Arak Attack" on almost every menu.)

It's funny - when you go to a local store and buy something, you may notice that the shop owner will take your cash and touch it to against other nearby products to ensure that he receives more business that day. I don't know why, but I really liked that. Just something to remind you that you're not in Kansas anymore.

For the second and third nights, I stayed at Hendrick's (Annie's husband) best friend's home in Kuta, which was in a more residential part of the city. Here, you actually see the daily activities that don't entail catering to the tourist community. In the mornings, you can witness men and women at the nearby temple making basket offerings that include cash, flowers, rice, and other foods, countless warung getting ready to serve their regular customers for the day, and young children in burgundy and white uniforms riding in the front of their mother or father's motorbikes headed for school. In the Kuta or even Legian stretch of southwest Bali, tourists are just getting up struggling with hangovers from the night before, looking to ease their headaches by consuming yet more cocktails and beer on the terraces of bars on the main road. In San Francisco, we call that brunch.

Jimbaran
For the remaining two nights, I stayed in Jimbaran at Hotel Puri Bambu. I only knew to stay there because my grand uncle, aunt, mom, and grandma stayed there a few weeks before me and they recommended it for its price, service, and proximity to the ocean and variety of fresh seafood. I checked in and immediately knew it was a good decision. A traditional hour-long Balinese oil massage only put me behind $5, not including the tip. The midrange room rate includes a daily breakfast of Indonesian dishes and fruit buffet, access to the shuttle that goes to and from Kuta beach, and the tranquility of being tucked away in a little alley only a few minutes walk from the beach. After having spent the majority of my trip in places where I checked under the sheets each night for bed bugs, this was a treat.

You can get ikan bakar (grilled fish) anywhere along the beach here, whether it be at the fancier restaurants where you pick the size and type or the catch of the day slung at the seafood market a little north of the hotel. I chose Blue Ocean to try their grilled red snapper, fried calamari, and a cold Bintang.

Etc.
Between laying in the sun and eating fresh food, Bagus and I did get a lot done in the matter of a few days. We went to Uluwatu, the southern tip of Bali where an ancient temple sits atop a cliff above rocky shores. Here, monkeys are especially notorious for their aggressive antics and interaction with people, so we put away our sunglasses, made sure we didn't have food in our bags, and kept my camera under wraps. We continued up north to visit Tanah Lot, another temple that lies on the western coast of the island. (Indonesians sure know how to kick back even when they're paying respect to the spirit gods...)

We finally made our way to Ubud, which I'd anticipated visiting since reading a memoir called Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. If you're female, you've most likely read this book and vowed to go on a journey of self exploration, such did the author, through Italy, India, and Indonesia. (Julia Roberts, to portray Elizabeth in the onscreen adaptation, was actually in town shooting while we were there. Didn't see Ms. Roberts, unfortunately.) In the book, Elizabeth befriends a Balinese healer (what Westerners would recognize as an herbal doctor) who becomes a primary character in the last third of the book. I told Bagus I wanted to meet Wayan Nuriasih so I could talk to her about creating some jamu to bring back to my mom, so I showed him the address listed in the Bali Rough Guide Nate so kindly lent me before leaving SE Asia last month, and we went on a mission to find her shop. After almost an hour of driving around and stopping to ask for directions, we came to the front of her home and asked a teenage boy sitting on the steps whether she lived or worked here or both. He pointed us in the direction of the street where her shop was, and we set off again. When I got out of the car, I was surprised to see that it wasn't packed with tourists, as I expected most of Elizabeth's audience would come to pay homage to Wayan. The walls of her shop were covered with exotic herbs, roots, and powders in clear glass jars. Apparently, since the book was published in 2006, business has boomed and many of the locals, as well as foreign visitors, flock to her shop for special massages, treatments, and natural remedies. I wanted to talk to her before making a purchase, but was informed that she was booked for the day. Her assistant gave me his mobile number so I could reach him to schedule an appointment later in the week, but I really didn't have much time so I bought a packet of tablets for my grandpa's arthritis and left. Should have known her services would be popular.

Ubud's claim to fame isn't just due to Wayan's popularity. It's been long considered an artist's haven and looking around, you will understand why (it may even remind you of Berkeley with it's hippie atmostphere and laid back vibe). It's lush setting among forested hills and wet rice fields provide shelter for craftsmen, carvers, and artists alike. It's a rewarding getaway from the chaos that is south Bali. Ubud is also famous for the various babi guling joints found all over town. Babi guling is a dish that consists of slices of roasted pork, pork skin, and Balinese spices served with shrimp chips over rice. If you ask me, Chinese-style roasted pork tastes much more flavorful, but when in Ubud, right?

One of my favorite activities was mountain biking with a group of Australians and a local guide from Bali Bintang. We were picked up from our hotels early in the morning and shuttled to a coffee and tea plantation near Kintamani for product tasting and breakfast. We then spent 3 hours biking downhill on backroads towards the direction of a village called Pejeng, in central Bali. Riding through several alleys where angry stray dogs barked and growled at your feet, I regretted not getting a rabies shot at the travel health clinic in SF. The ride allowed for some breathtaking views and we were able to stop and meet people along the way, stopping even at Wayan's (our guide) own village to say hello to his friends and pass by the home where he grew up. I should forewarn you about the downhill nature of the ride. You'll be using your brakes constantly and your forearms will be sore from intensely gripping the handlebars for 3 hours, so it can be tiring.

My last night on Bali called for a very unique experience. I rode on the back of a friend's motorbike, in the rain, to a multi-level dance club and karaoke venue called Asakasa in Denpasar. Walking in, I didn't know what to expect. The club only saw local patrons, so I was the only non-Indonesian inside. Once in, I was asked to pay a cover and leave my camera inside a locker to be picked up upon leaving. (I know, I know. I had stuffed my D40 into my purse that night knowing I was going to a club. Call me crazy, but I didn't want to miss anything in case something good happened.) The house music thumped so loudly I thought my heart was going to explode. There were creepy looking older men who were dancing up front where there was a large stage, watching several go-go girls who wore nothing but a lacy bra and underwear. I have nothing against voyeurismn, but I wasn't sure this was my style. We stayed for a little while longer, but I decided to call it a night once 1:30 rolled around.

Overall, I feel that I was able to experience multiple sides of Bali. While it is a tourist destination on the southeast Asian route, you can still find places where the people aren't going to try to sell you something and meet individuals who are genuinely interested in talking to you and exchanging perspectives. It's definitely a place I'd like to explore more of in the future.

How could I ever sum up Bali in a blog post?

2010-01-06T01:02:00.000-08:00

I can't. I can try, but I know I would not do this island justice. I simply don't want to leave. I'm regretting that I booked my flight to Hong Kong on the 10th. I guess that just means I'll have to come back at some point in the future...;)

Even though Aaron, Liana, and Samantha could not meet up with me (as hoped), I have enjoyed every minute of my time here.

I will write about my five days in Bali, but not just yet. Just wanted to post up a few pictures to give you an idea of what it's like. (I'll post more when in HK...blogger takes too much time to upload images.)

Enjoy!

In Kintamani, the village outside of Gunung Batur, the still active volcano...
Ceremony for the dead...

As my friend Liana would say, the "obnoxious" monkeys at Uluwatu temple in southern Bali...

Tanah Lot. Bagus turned out to be quite the photographer...

Many Indonesians make pilgrimages here throughout the year to visit the holy temple and springs...

Bagus and I were doused with holy water and a priest (?) placed small grains of rice on our foreheads as a sign of blessing...

Tanah Lot at Sunset...

Ubud....Bagus and I ended up driving all over one side of town looking for a woman named Wayan Nuriasih, the traditional Balinese healer from Elizabeth Gilbert's memoir Eat, Pray, Love. Her home was in this neighborhood...

I truly believe that the Balinese can balance anything, and I mean anything on their heads...

Across the street from my hotel in Jimbaran...

Two friendly fishermen who allowed me to get up close and personal...

A Balinese fisherman's livelihood...

The Keraton further down south of Jimbaran Bay...

The most beautiful woman in Bali. She was collecting shells to sell...
Dinner on the beach at Jimbaran's Langsam Cafe (you choose the size and type of seafood that you want grilled, caught fresh from the day's catch)...

Signature Balinese Kecak "Monkey" Dance and Gamelan music...

Coffee and tea sampling with mountain biking Aussies at a plantation near Kintamani...Ginseng coffee was particularly flavorful. Did not enjoy the civet cat poop coffee...

Wayan, our amicable cycling guide happily rolling a tobacco joint...

Before I took the photo of this 2 year-old girl, she was holding what looked like a mini-machete, assisting her grandma with making baskets for temple offerings...

Kids from Pejeng village...they seemed to be fond of shouting "allo (hello)!" and giving us high fives as we rode through...

No, I did not plan on matching the cycling gloves they gave us...

NYE in Batu

2010-01-01T04:17:00.000-08:00

Just got back from Kota Batu, a city of 170,000 Javanese and Madurese located in East Java about 2 hours from Surabaya and a bit cooler in temperature. My grand uncle's villa turned out to be a game house where myself, my mom, and and a number of his other relatives played pool and ping pong for the last two days. It was entertaining since 70% of the time, everyone was trying to figure out what to call each other. (In the Chinese culture, relatives don't usually call each other by their names. It's always older brother, older female cousin, great aunt, etc.)

What I wasn't used to was the 20 minutes of grace before every meal. My family here is very Christian, and my mom, myself, and Buddhist grandmother were caught in the wrath of my grand uncle and his brother (a pastor), who wanted to preach to us about why we should always have the Lord in our hearts. My grand uncle's brother even made me sit there and repeat, "Oh Lord, Jesus!" for a few minutes. I was not pleased, but it was probably worse for my grandmother who looked like she was going to vomit.

Everyone has been so unbelievably hospitable. My grand uncle's daughter, Faye, has helped me with everything under the sun. From booking my flights within and out of Indonesia, to finding me a hotel in Bali for the first night, to making sure I have enough minutes on my SIM card. Annie just offered her husband's friend's home for me to stay while in Kuta, since I only have that one night booked so far. I wasn't expecting the difficulty of finding affordable accomodations during this time of year. Apparently, foreign tourists get their rates doubled (unless they are traveling with an Indonesian who can present a national passport). Even in Surabaya, I have yet to see a Westerner. It's so bizarre after having been in so many cities where Westerners are as common as nationals.

I stopped taking photos in RAW format, so now I can post some pictures. These are mostly from the last few meals we ate, some of the sights we saw, and of the children in the family, as they were the highlight of everyone's days...

...auntie Jeanie with her four grandchildren...
...Bubul madura (a do-it-yourself dessert)
...Nasi Goreng (spicy fried rice)
....Ikan pepes (fish with spices steamed in banana leaves)...

....the garden at Annie's house, so beautiful...
... inside the Masjid Cheng Hoo...

...yellow (turmeric) rice with ikan laut (spicy fish)...
....hahaha, Annie with her sons Cliff and Cruz, too cute.....

...my auntie Jeanie's brother's home in Batu...

....going to the local market...

...Salak (a national obsession)

....large avocados....
...peas on steroids...
...Durian....

...it's always a genius idea to place a baby in a suitcase...

...a beautiful hotel in Batu with two seemingly misplaced statues of Aliens, odd....

...my grand uncle's villa in Batu...

...Cliff bar being a kid....

...all hail the illegal fireworks...

...the women attacking bags of Mangosteen (our new favorite fruit)...

...the kids staying up past their bedtime (I remember when I had that much energy)...
...my grand aunt killin' it in table tennis...

...Aunt Faye...
...my mom, the pool shark....
...watching the fireworks from the front of the villa...

...little Cliff bar singing Christmas carols in Mandarin...

...cutie pie who held my hand all day and kept trying to take the cap off my D40...

Surabaya

2009-12-29T16:58:00.000-08:00

I finally made it to Indonesia! Although, I am never flying Silk Air again. When I got to the Surabaya Airport and received the Visa on Arrival, I saw that they did not need a full length visa page in my passport at all. The visa was not even attached when they handed me back my passport. What a crock of sh*t! Oh well, it's over with so there's no point in dwelling.

I was welcomed by my Auntie Jeanie, who was holding up a sign with my English name on it upon arriving. We loaded up her SUV and immediately drove to one of her in-laws or relatives' new home for a "house blessing" party. The spread on the table in the middle of the dining room was incredible. So many different and colorful dishes that I had never seen before. I especially loved the spiced fish steamed in banana leaves. I think it was called ikan pepes.

My auntie and her daughter, Annie, both speak Bahasa Indonesian, as they have lived in this country for most of their lives. Auntie and I communicated over the last two days via broken Mandarin, Cantonese, and some English. Annie speaks fluent English and is the 29-year old mother of these three adorably well-behaved boys, all between the ages of 20-months and 5 years. She 's kind of that hip young mom that most women want to be but have a hard time becoming. All I know is, when (or if) I have a couple of kids, I would not mind having her figure, nor her even-keeled temper...

Yesterday, Annie took me to a mosque with Chinese-style architecture, the Masjid Cheng Ho. We drove around Surabaya and stopped to eat some great food throughout the day. One of her cousins owns this "yellow rice" shop that serves the most flavorful dishes. So good.

One of my grand uncle's drivers is taking my mom, my grandma, my auntie, and I to another city in the north where my grand uncle has a vacation home. We'll be spending the next few days up there before coming back after the new year. I originally wanted to go all out and party in Bali for the 31st, but after all that's happened, my priorities have changed a bit. I am just looking forward to seeing more of Indonesia with my family, as I know I can party on an island any time. I'm actually headed for Bali on the 2nd and will be spending a little over a week there and in Lombok before heading to Hong Kong until the end of January.

What an amazing two months it's been...

Fingers Crossed

2009-12-27T15:27:00.000-08:00

So, this is it. I'm heading to the US Embassy in the next hour to ask them to add pages to my passport. If all goes well and the task is completed within a few hours, I'll be on the afternoon flight to Surabaya.

While I hadn't planned this stop in Singapore, the last few days haven't been disappointing. I went out to dinner with DH and Stella again the night after Christmas; this time Luke McNeal (another Service Sourcer) and his wife joined us for Mexican food before we went and caught James Cameron's new 3-D fantasy adventure, Avatar. Like most of James Cameron's films, I thought this one was half an hour longer than it needed to be. But, it was entertaining, and the range of imagination displayed made the length of the film tolerable.

Yesterday, I took a bus down to Little India and caught a glimpse of a special ceremony at one of the Hindu temples. I could listen to the men playing their instruments for days...

Christmas Night on Clarke Quay

2009-12-25T19:42:00.000-08:00

After enjoying a pizza dinner with DH and Stella at Bella Pizza, we went and grabbed drinks at Harry's where a man with the voice of Barry Manilow was crooning Christmas songs...good times. :)

It's a Small Small World

2009-12-24T19:16:00.000-08:00

Not all is lost.

About an hour ago, I asked the hotel receptionist to have someone bring a laptop up to my room so I could check my email and notify my family members my new phone number in Singapore. I got into my inbox, and sitting there was an email from one of my former Service Source managers, David Hwang. Apparently, he and his wife Stella were starting to plan their Vietnam trip and wanted to see what I had to say about the country on my blog. He saw that I was stuck in Singapore for the next few days and wrote me. What are the chances?

I'm meeting my friend Eric later this afternoon and then might catch DH and Stella for dinner tonight. Maybe I won't have to spend Christmas alone this year after all. (Nate, if you're still feeling a little homesick for the fam, get your butt over here to Singapore and join me!)

Penalized on a Technicality?

2009-12-24T00:34:00.000-08:00

I haven't cried this much since I watched the senior citizen version of Ryan Gosling lie down next to sweet wrinkly Rachel McAdams and pass in The Notebook.

Ok, I'm not sad anymore. Not frustrated. Just infuriated. Did you know that in order for a non-Indonesian to be able to step off the plane in Indonesia, that individual must have a full empty page in their passport in order for Immigration to grant a VOA (Visa on Arrival)? I did not.

Thinking Singapore was only going to be a 3 hour layover, it has now become a 4 day nightmare. Well, I'm just being dramatic. I'm sure it's going to be completely fine (maybe even fun if I get ahold of my friend Eric from LA or my former manager DH and his lovely wife Stella...the newest Service Source office being here).

When I landed at the Changi Airport in Singapore several hours ago, I picked up my stuff from Baggage Claims and went straight for the Departures Hall to check it back in for my next flight scheduled to leave for Surabaya around 4:30. When I stepped up to the counter and handed over my passport to the young woman, she flipped through it, a look of concern crossed her face, and she said, "One moment please." I waited a few minutes until she rushed back and said to me, "I'm sorry, but you cannot travel to Surabaya today." Wait - what? Why? "If we allow you to fly to Indonesia today, they will just send you back. You don't have any empty pages left in your passport. And for you to get the Visa in your passport, they are very strict in requiring an entire page to be empty." You have got to be kidding me. What am I supposed to do? "Let's call the Embassy to see if they are open. You can go and try to pick up a new passport or get an emergency one extended for this purpose." How far is the Embassy? My flight is in two hours, and it's Christmas Eve - are they even open? "Oh yes. They are probably closed half day today. They are also closed for US holiday tomorrow. And they are closed Saturday and Sunday. That means you can go on Monday." What about my flight today? Do I get a refund? "I'm not sure, you'll have to find out what to do about your ticket, go to the ticketing counter and they will tell you." I swear, when you just want some answers that are actually going to benefit you...

I ended up having to push the flight to this coming Monday, meaning I am staying in Singapore for the holiday. When all I wanted was just to hug my mom on Christmas Eve - the thing that's stopping me is a stupid passport technicality. Ugh. Unbelievable. I wasn't even ashamed bawling like a big baby at the airport. I walked to the payphone right after changing the flight and called my dad who sounded half-asleep, poor guy. "Dad. It's me. I'm in Singapore.....wahhh." What's wrong? Where are you? "I'm at the airport. Wahhh. They won't let me leave. Wahhhh. I have to stay until Monday. Tell Uncle Daniel to call Grand Uncle to tell Mom not to come to the airport tonight. WAHHHHHH!" Ok, don't cry, don't worry. Wan't me to ask Uncle Raymond who his relatives in Singapore are and then I can give you their contact information? OK, call me back in 10 minutes." So, I hung up, cried some more just because it felt good to, and called him back. "Turns out, they are all on holiday in Shanghai. That's okay. Singapore is supposed to be very fun. Calm down, just find a nice hotel, no matter the cost, and just stay there and try to enjoy yourself and don't worry. (My Dad, who is usually very stern, was so so supportive and comforting. I had half expected him to lecture me for not knowing about the passport rule, but was so glad when he didn't. Instead he did nothing but try to make me feel better.) So get a new SIM card and once you do, call me and give me the number." OK, I'll call you soon. Thanks, Dad.

I have to admit, I don't know what I went ballistic over. I think it was the fact that I had so looked forward to being with family, especially my mom, for the holidays. It hasn't felt like the holidays for me this year at all. Ever since I got sick, I have been pretty emotional. I was watching little Cindy Lou Who sing Where Are You, Christmas? in How the Grinch Stole Christmas last night in my hotel room, and I actually cried. It's strange how my family is split up this Christmas. My Dad in California (hopefully celebrating with my Aunt Kitty and their mom), my Mom with her mom in Surabaya, Wendy in Brooklyn with her fellow residents, and me in Singapore (on a technicality)...

Being away always makes me appreciate my family a little more when we are together. I'm not sure what the next few days will look like, but if I can't wish you happy holidays over the phone, online, or in person - Merry Christmas. I hope you are with the ones you love and care about.

Love,
Winnie

P.S. Dave, I used to think you had some of the worse luck possible. I think you may have passed on your torch. Thanks, buddy. ;)

If it's not Dengue, what is it?

2009-12-22T21:07:00.000-08:00

First of all, Mom, Dad, Wendy, and Uncle Daniel - thank you for calling me every few hours the last couple of days to make sure I was alive in my hotel room (and for sending me all that info on symptoms, treatments, ways to aleviate the fever/pain, questions to ask the doctor). Being away, it felt reassuring to know that you knew what was going on and you were only a phone call away. Maureen Miller (Nate's mom), thank you so much for your email. Your efforts to find contact information and health services in HCMC was much appreciated, I appreciate the time you took to send me that note.

Now, I'll go on to describe what happened on Monday, the day after I posted about going to the hospital...

I was standing in line inside of a large busy grocery store when I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. At first, I thought I was going to vomit. When nothing came up, I noticed that the sounds of the store were intensifying in my ears. Clink! Clank! Ca-ching! - all became these deafening noises coming in and then slowly drowning out. My head started throbbing with pain, and I could feel my pulse race. When I blinked, all I could see were splotches of white light, everywhere. I was going blind. Shit.

I left the fruit and water I was going to buy on the counter and slowly made my way towards the exit, wanting to get away from the pushy crowds. I knew that if this white out was to last for a while, and I was amongst a bunch of foreign strangers, I would just feel claustrophobic, and the situation would be worse. When I got outside, I had to keep my eyes closed because the sun was so bright and every time I opened them, I just got blinded. I stood there for another 20 seconds waiting and blinking until my vision was back to normal and I wasn't feeling so sick. That was probably the scariest feeling I've ever felt. Not knowing what is happening to you and not being able to control any of these symptoms.

When I got back to the hotel, I tried calling the doctor who consulted me on Sunday, but of course, the number on his card was no longer valid. I tried to have my hotel receptionist call the number just to make sure I wasn't dialing it incorrectly, but she also got the same message. Another white out came again at that point - this time while I was speaking with the receptionist, who seemed terrified to see me gripping the counter with my eyes glued shut, head in my hands, waiting for it to all go away. As soon as I could see a little, I walked to the computer in the lobby and emailed the doctor, copying my sister so she was aware. A second later, the email bounced back. The address on his business card was incorrect, as well. Damnit. I just hopped in a taxi out front and asked them to take me to the hospital.

When I got there, the tears came. I told them what happened and how scared I was when I couldn't see, so they put me in a room, laid me down, and said Dr. Susi would see me in a few minutes. When he came in, he listened, nodded, and said they'd go ahead and run the Dengue test a day earlier. The results came back negative. He really didn't have much to comment about the blind spells, tried to reassure me that I wouldn't fall into a coma in my hotel room, gave me his personal phone number and his correct email address, and said to come back in the morning for a final evaluation.

When I asked what this febrile viral illness could be, he said it could be a form of menengitis or encephalitis. But because it could be so many other things, it wouldn't be realistic to test me for everything. He just reassured me that I wouldn't need to have a spinal tap, it wasn't parasitic, and any long term damage shouldn't be a concern for now. I understand that not everyone can be diagnosed and one may not find the answers to all the questions one has, but it just doesn't sit well with me that no one can figure out what exactly happened here. My sister is convinced it's Dengue, and having read about it, I wouldn't be surprised. Regardless of the outcome, I guess it's always more comforting when you know.

It's now Day 6, and the only symptom I am feeling is a minor headache. It still hurts a little to open my eyes wide or look up, but I think that should go away in a day or two. Dr. Susi provided a medical report to clear me for travel to Indonesia, so I'm flying out tomorrow to meet my mom and grandmother in Surabaya. They're staying with our extended family whom will be showing us their home and taking us to Bali on the 26th. I have yet to make any plans for NYE, but right now, the important thing is to get and remain healthy. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to being with my mom. I feel better already just thinking about it.

Mosquito-borne Illness? Check

2009-12-20T00:21:00.000-08:00

Having had an ongoing fever, chills, sweats, a splitting headache, pain beneath my eyes for the last 72 hours, a friend of mine convinced me that I should go to see a doctor. I went to one of the international hospitals in Ho Chi Minh City this afternoon, and it turns out, I may have Dengue Fever. The doctor gave me a cocktail of drugs for the pain, stuck oxygen tubes up my nose (apparently, the oxygen levels in my body were too low), and took some blood. He said it looked like a case of Dengue due to results of the influenza test coming back negative and the fact that my bloodwork shows a viral disease. Funny thing is, I've been joking about the chances of getting Malaria this entire time, with all the mosquito bites I've acquired...

The doctor sent me back to my hotel armed with Paracetamol Codeine and told me to come back on Tuesday morning for more bloodwork to be done to confirm.

In case you're curious about Dengue Fever, check out the wiki page for details on the virus: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dengue_fever

Originally, I thought the fever was a symptom of an oncoming flu or the result of altitude sickness from being up in the highlands north of Sapa last week. I thought it could be due to insufficient sleep I've been getting the last few weeks, the bitter cold that I was unprepared for during the overnight homestay in the Ta Van Village, or just my immune system telling me that it was exhausted from moving from one city to another. Eating out every day for two months can't be all that healthy for you either. Needless to say, I'm going to take it easy here for the next few days.

Asia Media Labs

2009-12-17T16:36:00.001-08:00

This was made by Todd Brown, a filmaker from Los Angeles whom I met in Phnom Penh: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcPUp84yVZg

Makes me want to go creative!

Northern Vietnam

2009-12-14T20:31:00.000-08:00

No longer waking up to loud speakers spewing political propaganda outside my window at 7am, we have left big city Hanoi for the slower-paced mountainside village of Sapa. From every angle, the steep hills and wet rice paddies look straight off of a postcard. With what seems to be endless valleys and rows upon rows of vegetation, you can't take a bad photograph here.

It was unfortunate that our nine hour train ride was during the night, thus we weren't able to see much of the northern countryside. While I enjoyed lively Hanoi, it's plethora of street-side smoky bowls of Bun Cha, and watching the activity around the large serene lake in the middle of the Old Quarter, I'm glad to be leaving behind the chaos for a few days. My friend Luan, who was just here a few weeks ago, warned me that it might be raining in Sapa, but it's absolutely gorgeous today. It's about 21 degrees Celsius with a light cool breeze, and the air smells crisp with notes of grilled meats on bamboo sticks coming from the vendors up and down the street.

Sapa is infamous for it's villages of ethnic minorities. We just visited the H'mong Cat Cat village this morning, but I was disappointed (although not surprised) that the main thing the children were encouraged to do was walk around selling handicrafts and ask for money after pictures were taken. They are put to work to help their families earn a living at a very young age. I wonder how many are actually enrolled at the primary school we saw down at the edge of the village.

Vietnam has been...interesting. The disobedience of traffic laws is even more terrifying than Cambodia and Thailand combined, access to Facebook has been disabled (on occasion - though probably a good thing), and if you are on the Atkins diet - this is not the country for you. I don't think I have yet to have one meal that has not consisted mainly of rice or noodles and a lot of protein. Last night, Nate asked me what I missed most about food in the States. I couldn't name one thing, not even burritos. I just feel all "eaten out." (No, not like that - get your mind out of the gutter.) The last few countries I have stayed in, I have not held back. Everyone is gaining weight from the holiday eating. Why shouldn't I be allowed to participate?

Get Your Happy On!

2009-12-13T06:14:00.000-08:00

Try to get past Poppy's overwhelming energy during the first half hour of the movie (it becomes less annoying once you get to know her): http://www.happy-go-lucky-movie.co.uk/

And this is coming from someone who is (more often than not) accused of being too positive...you would think it'd be a good thing, but I've met too many people who don't appreciate it as much.

Giddy as a Monk

2009-12-11T07:44:00.000-08:00

I thought monks were trained to be calm at all times and particularly neutral with their emotions. From the encounter(s) I had my last night in Phnom Penh, I am starting to wonder...

Yesterday, after the sun set, I headed over to Wat Botum (a temple in the middle of the city) to catch the screening of short films dedicated to celebrating International Human Rights Day. The screenings were to occur in the temple's garden, but because the grounds were completely unlit and it was my first time there, I was lost. I went deeper into the compound and noticed a young monk standing on steps near the side of a building watching me. I walked over to him and asked, "Do you speak any English?" He broke into this huge grin and said, "Um. A small, small. Heehee." I said, "Ok, you can speak little bit? Can you tell me where temple garden is?" (I find that when I'm speaking with someone who isn't a native English speaker and has trouble with the language, my English starts to decline as well. It's as if I think they will understand me more clearly if I sound like them.) Still giggling uncontrollably, the young monk motions to me (monks can't touch women at all, not even their mothers) and says, "Can you come wit me? I wan show you to my fren." How do you say no to a monk? So, I obliged and walked with him into what was his bedroom that he shared with a fellow monk. As we are chatting and exchanging formalities, I notice more and more monks are coming into his room. Soon, there are about 9 monks surrounding me, asking me questions such as: 1) Where am I from? 2) No, really, where am I really from? 3) How do I say my name in Chinese? 4) What is my religion? 5) Why am I not Buddhist? 6) What did I study? 7) Why, why, why am I not married? 8) When do I think I will get married? 9) Can they come to my wedding if I ever do get married? 10) Do I want to be all of their pen pals? 11) What do I think of Cambodia? 12) When will I be coming back to Cambodia? 13) Can their friend take me to the countryside on their motorbike next time I come to Phnom Penh? 14) Can they call me in America if they are in a bad mood and need someone to talk to? And that doesn't even cover half of the inquisition. Next thing I know, two and a half hours had passed, I had been force-fed a soybean icee, a durian milkshake (and for those of you who have never seen, smelled, or tasted durian - think yellow poo that smells as bad as it looks), and almost a second dinner if I hadn't refused to consume anything else coming into that room. What really did it though was when TaVanny (the giddy monk) pulled out this huge portrait shot he had taken pre-monk days and shoved it into my hands saying, "I want you have me pictures." I looked at it and almost laughed out loud. First of all, the picture is the size of a magazine page. Second, he has this crazy serious look on his face, so different from the goofy look he has on now. And lastly - this is the best part - he tells me everything has been retouched with Photoshop. The hair on his head, the suit he is wearing, the background. Ha, I love it! I am putting this up somewhere where it will always bring a smile to my face.

I ended up missing the films I had intended to see, but really, I am so glad I got a chance to converse with these 21 year-olds. I think it's the first time they've ever had a woman in their room, and TaVanny did confirm it was the first and longest English conversation he's ever had. When a filmmaker I met at Meta House the previous night came to pick me up from the Wat, he was almost succumbed to stay and talk with TaVanny and his friends too, but showed much more resistance than I was able to. I guess having lived in PP for a better part of this year, he's gotten used to these instances when monks just really want to practice their English and disregard any plans you may have had for that day. For me though, I just kept thinking I could have kicked myself for not bringing my D40 out that night...

Dreams

2009-12-09T21:08:00.000-08:00

After noticing flyers posted all over town for an art gallery called Meta House, I wanted to see for myself what the fuss was all about. Last night, I went to a rooftop screening of "In a Dream," a documentary by Jeremiah Zagar, a young man from Philadelphia who followed his parents and older brother for some time documenting life as a member of an artist's family. The film made for an emotional look into the passionate life of American mosaic artist Isaiah Zagar, the craze that feeds his all-consuming masterpieces, and how his creative priorities ultimately affect his family life.

I imagine that most serious artists have this dilemma, one that must strongly impact their families or others closest to them. They seem to have trouble with the concept of "settling down." As my mom once observed when we were viewing modern art in Mexico City, "In order to be an artist, one would have to be a little off."

What's interesting is that the filmmaker happens to be Isaiah's youngest son. I don't want to give away the content of this film, but, all the flaws, intimate moments, personal pains shown in a film about your own family - that must have made for an extremely sensitive experience. When the film focuses around the relationship between Isaiah and his wife Julia, it's hard not to question the matters of the heart.

I've never been an optimist in the topic of love. In everything else, I am (to a fault) overly optimistic. Those who know me will probably agree and be able to look back on a time when every idea sounded absolutely fantastic and bound to work out. Call it being naive. I like to look at it as being positive. It's always been a challenge for me to see something like "love" as something that lasts. It's not that I don't see it exist in the marital relationships within my family, it's not like I don't know couples who seem genuinely in love with each other, I just don't see the forever part. I have yet to meet someone that I could or would want to be with "forever." Sure, I've been in 2, 3, 4 yr relationships where I felt like I loved and cared about the person, but was there ever a point in the relationship where I could honestly say to myself: I want to be with this person, grow old and die with them? No. Is that a bad thing? No. Does that mean I wasn't truly in love with them? I don't know anyone in the position to judge that. Who is to define what love is supposed to mean and everything it entails? Just like everything else - it may be about ups and downs, phases you go in and out of, the good days and the bad. It's every bit as temperamental as we are as humans. But then again, what do I know?

Have a Good Time...

2009-12-07T23:46:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQM5TZqoaUE

Disclaimer: Long post. I suggest a bathroom break midway through reading.

2009-12-07T20:27:00.000-08:00

For the most part, the villagers of the floating community we photographed were surprisingly receptive to our intrusion of their Sunday afternoon. They wore genuine smiles when Nathan approached and exchanged warm greetings with him in Khmer. Many waved when they saw us coming. It was an alternative reaction from the times I've been approached by dusty children asking for money after I take photographs of them.

In a way, it's as if Nathan makes them feel like celebrities. For some of these children, who don't leave their compounds for anything except to attend school (if at all), they get a chance to "get out." By being subjects of these impressive images that often show up in brochures and magazines promoting tourism in Cambodia, they reach all sorts of audiences. It's a way of leaving their village without having to physically do so.

Nathan explained that the villagers are most likely not yet turned off by visiting photographers because this is an area that doesn't see many tourists throughout the year (outside of the few he brings along during occasional weekend workshops). Kompong Chhnang has yet to be impacted by the tourist boom felt by the country since the early 2000's. Thus, there are only 2 guesthouses that are considered decent in this city.

I find it difficult, at times, to photograph human subjects without feeling like an intruder. An aspect I liked about Nathan's workshop was the emphasis on ethical practices and relationship-based work. In the past, I recall having questioned the line a photographer unintentionally crosses by wanting to capture someone else's personal pain or suffering and the exploitation of that person's private moment by including the images into a portfolio. I suppose a good photographer is one whom ultimately shares his/her work with the subject, as opposed to "owning" the credit, especially if success comes along as the result of their interaction.

Privacy is considered a luxury and not an option known by the members of this floating village. Most units are open to the fresh air, and the only walls that exist are those of the exterior that keep the people living behind them dry. When I think of the number of walls in the San Francisco apartment I share with my friend James, I laugh. If you think your family members know way too much about your personal life, think again.

Although I enjoyed the technical and field portions of the workshop, I didn't feel quite as confident with my SLR as I had hoped leaving his studio. There were times Nathan rushed through the topics of aperture and shutter speed that I wish he would have spent more time explaining, especially since the other two women and I had difficulty processing these and applying the information to our practice shots in Kompong Chhnang and Udong. Overall, the workshop was a good introduction to travel photography, but I wouldn't mind a more in-depth course that covers each feature of a typical SLR and allows more time to put instruction into practice.

I've decided to give myself an assignment. I will be creating a B&W photo journal of my time in Hong Kong next month. Being in these southeast Asian countries, I've had a tough time trying to communicate with some of the locals upon encounters. Because I don't speak the languages, I haven't had a real chance to connect and show compassion to my subjects. For example, I took a walk with my camera yesterday and came across this elderly man who had set up his barber shop right on the side of the road (no walls - just a large standing mirror, a seat for his client, and his tools on a wooden table). I so wanted to stop, say hello, and chat with him, and maybe if I was lucky to get a few shots of him working on his client. I didn't want to just smile, greet, and take close-up portraits without asking them whether they would mind my presence or not. It's moments like this that have made me realize I need to spend more time in HK. I do have the advantage of speaking Cantonese and would feel more comfortable approaching people there. It's less hit and run photography, to say it simplest.

I've had conversations with fellow travelers about how I think HK is lacking in recognizable culture. I don't think the SAR has been successful in retaining the Chinese culture it once may have had, back when my parents were growing up. When most foreigners think of HK, they think of it as a financial hub, a former fishing port, dim sum, good tailoring, another renegade province...these are all tell-tale HK, but really, what else is there? People go to Thailand for its cuisine, terrain, endless temples, tumultous history, laid-back Buddhist approach to life - it's even known as "the land of smiles." Vietnam easily summons images of conical hats on the heads of rice paddy field workers, steaming bowls of noodle soup, sensuality due to the sexual innuendos of foreign military presence in the past. I feel like HK has a lot to offer, but for those who don't live there, we have no idea. Because the island separated from the motherland (by choice), it has sacrificed some of the things that make it recognizably Chinese. Some of the traditional customs of the past were pushed aside to focus on economic progress and accommodate the international community living and working there. Until HK embraces its relationship with China (as opposed to just being tolerant), I don't think it will serve as a primary destination for travelers seeking more exotic and "cultural" experiences. My hope is that this personal project will allow me to see more sides to HK than I have in previous visits and be able to share with you what I see. It's coming home to a place that you don't know all that much about...

I realize that my previous posts have become a little heavy on the "do-gooder" and responsible tourism side of things. To lighten the mood, here's what else has been on my mind.....

1) T-shirts to be made before leaving Cambodia -

Per Nate's request:
No Honk Honk
No Sweep
No Want Coke or Skunk
No, (I'm) not Sylvester Stallone

For me:
No, not same same.
No, (I'm) not Japanese, Korean, Filipina, Thai, Cambodian. (I thought we Asians were able to tell each other apart!)
No have dollar for one flowah.
No Tuk Tuk.
No Motobike, Lady?!

~~~~
2) Question of the week: Why do Khmers walk around town in their pajamas all day?
Answer (according to Nathan Horton): They like things that match. Also, they like that pajama sets are so comfortable.

~~~~
3) Things I find amusing

- Miss Landmine Cambodia 2009 (Beauty Pageant): http://www.miss-landmine.org/cambodia

-Words of Mok Bunthoeun (2nd place Men's winner @ the Angkor Wat Half Marathon; also a tuk-tuk driver in Phnom Penh): “I am very happy. I have the mental strength to continue to run. I am tuk-tuk driver. I come to represent our nation." The 36-year-old admitted he couldn’t keep up with the Malaysian ahead of him, noting the lack of good training conditions in the Kingdom. “I trained by myself,” he stated. “He [Kien] is far younger than me, and he comes from Malaysia. Their nutrition is better.”

~~~~
4) Restaurants I would recommend:
- Restaurant My Kid (Vietnamese), near Sunday Guesthouse by the Olympic Stadium
- Foreign Correspondents Club aka FCC (order the Nhoam Krah (a filling salad of fresh, crunchy lotus root, thinly sliced bbq pork loin, little dried shrimps, red onions, crumbled peanuts, chives, and this amazing citrusy fish sauce vinagrette)

~~~~
5) Tips
-Don't exchange currency upon arrival. Everywhere you go will accept USD and some places will accept Thai Baht. You'll only lose money by exchanging due to the commission & service fees.
-If you don't have any large items on you, ride around on the back of a motobike at night, as opposed to taking a tuk-tuk. These are half the price (generally $1) and often get you to Point B in less time. Just hold on tight.
-Don't lose your cool after the 4000th time you've said "No, thank you" to the throngs of tuk-tuk drivers who approach you asking if you need their services. Yes, you will want to pull your hair out. Yes, you will want to scream, "Wouldn't I come to you if I needed a ride?!" Resist. These men are just trying to earn an honest living and because tourism has been hit due to the border conflicts with neighboring countries, business hasn't been so great these last few months.

I'll end this post with some pictures -

PEPY

2009-12-03T17:39:00.000-08:00

Things happen sometimes. I believe, in most cases, they happen for a reason. Life is too short for what we might consider "coincidences."

Last night was to be my last night in Siem Reap. I was supposed to get on the 8:30 bus to head back down to Phnom Penh this morning. After being on a small boat on Tonle Sap Lake for a few hours to catch the sunset, my friend Nate and I went back into town to say hello to Sony and Tear, the two bartenders at The Warehouse we had met and chatted with the previous night. We ended up staying a little longer than intended because Sony was entertaining us with magic and card tricks and didn't mind sharing a little more about life in Cambodia. That's when a youngish-looking guy propped himself up on a stool on the opposite end of the bar, put down his motorbike helmet, and ordered himself a drink. After sharing a few jokes with Sony and Tear, he turns to us and says, "So where are you guys from?" I tell him San Francisco, and he tells us he's from Tennessee. We find out that he's only been working and living in Siem Reap for about two months. (Not yet a jaded ex-pat. Refreshing.) When I ask him who he works for, he says, "I work for PEPY." Are you kidding me?

Two years ago, an individual named Jonathan (whom worked for the same company that I did), introduced me to an organization called PEPY. We had been chatting about an event I was trying to fundraise for and about my interest in volunteer work in the Bay Area. He sent me the link to PEPY Ride and told me how a friend of his, this young woman from NY named Daniela Papi, attended Notre Dame University and left her home in the States to co-found and oversee the programs and initiatives implemented by PEPY. PEPY was one of the main reasons why I wanted to come to Cambodia. After having checked the PEPY site for bike tour dates and "voluntour" opportunities over the last two years, subscribed to their frequent newsletter on Facebook, corresponded with a Team Leader since having arrived in SE Asia, I had thought the time I had in Cambodia would not allow me to fully participate in a project. In fact, Eric Lewis, the TL I had kept in touch with had just informed me that the volunteer and tour package would be a challenge to set up as the time I have here is limited. I had been so disappointed, but figured it would be another reason to come back.

So, imagine my surprise when Tyler, the guy sitting next to us at The Warehouse, tells me he works for PEPY and that his roomate is Eric Lewis. Small world, eh?

He says he's going outside to make a phone call and comes back saying I need to stay another day. Daniela wants me to come into the PEPY office tomorrow to learn more about the organization and inquire about opportunities they might have where I could bring in applicable skills. I agree to nix the bus ticket already purchased and stay another day.

This morning, we take a tuk tuk to the PEPY house and HQ and are greeted by Tyler. We took a few minutes to meet the current interns and volunteers and be introduced to Daniela, who seemed to be pretty busy (justifiably). Daniela, Tyler, Eric, Nate, and I go into the meeting room to talk about their objectives, the programs they run, the bike and adventure tours they organize and lead throughout the year, and the communities they work with. The challenges surrounding infrastructure, governance, bureaucracy, and corruption are all mentioned. More and more, I hear the phrase "red tape" from bitter ex-pats jaded by the years they've lived here to the newbies who've only been here for a month or two. It's like Tyler said this morning, "It is what it is." (What's also unfortunate is when a little girl with three roses came up to Tyler last night and said, "Please one dollar, one dollar," he recognized her and told us, in the past, Daniela had approached the girl's parents to offer them help with placing her in a school. They rejected this as they felt that the act of selling roses all night to foreign tourists sitting in pubs was more lucrative then starting school at the age of 6 or 7.)

All of the PEPY interns, volunteers, and permanent staff live and work in the same three-story house on a very residential street. PEPY provides free accomodations to their teams while they work with the organization. You basically share a room with one or two other individuals and utilize the living space with all of your "co-workers." It's somewhat of a co-op or dorm situation, where you see these other people all the time. It makes for a dynamic group of very dedicated, ambitious, and lively staff. After sending emails to a few Salesforce friends Nate and I both have (PEPY needs technical/back-end support for the database management product they're using - if you know of someone who is planning to travel into Cambodia soon and wouldn't mind living for free training PEPY's staff and helping to customize the software to suit their needs, please shoot me an email!), we go out to lunch with the group, minus Daniela unfortunately.

Spending a few hours talking with them, taking a peek into what their day is like, and walking through their living quarters, I could see myself wanting to spend 6-8 months working with this organization and its surrounding communities. It's not a commitment that is lengthy enough to make you feel hesitant about staying, but it does offer you a chance to contribute your strengths and skills over a reasonable amount of time. Something Tyler mentioned last night is the notion that PEPY wants itself to be run by mainly Khmer staff at some point. The goal is not to provide solutions to these local communities. It's to teach these people to teach themselves and also to teach others. It needs to gradually become self-sustainable. That's why volunteers and interns stay for only 6-8 months. There are exceptions in which you could become part of the permanent staff (if there's a real need), but it doesn't happen often.

I told Daniela I would get back in touch with her next spring, especially if I see an opportunity that might make a great match and if there was still availability. With a grassroots approach and demand for a variety of talent, I'm sure PEPY gets bombarded with interested applicants. Who knows - maybe when Tyler takes off after his term, they will need another PR/media intern to help manage their social networking presence and newsletter following. That's something I could do, right?

The Re-Birth of Cinema in Cambodia?

2009-12-02T00:50:00.000-08:00

Our last night in Phnom Penh, Wendy and I wanted to lay low and catch a flick after dinner. When we got back to Sunday Guest House, we asked the mother of the family that runs the place where we could catch a movie nearby.

"Oh. No movie in Cambodia." she said with a straight face. Thinking she may have misunderstood our question, we asked her again where we could find a "cinema." "No cinema here." she reinforced. We both had a hard time processing this. When we told Nate upon his arrival to Siem Reap, he informed me that it was my duty to get to the bottom of this.

Apparently, it's still in question whether there is an accessible movie theater in Cambodia's developing capital. There were two listed in a Phnom Penh newspaper I was looking through, but details regarding showtimes and titles were vague, if not non-existent. From what I gathered from an Asia Life Guide (the Nov. 2009 issue), since the strict rule of the Khmer Rouge, cinemas and theater houses that once served the public have since turned into large hotels and nightclubs. Because the majority of Cambodia's most talented producers, directors, actors, and writers were considered intellectuals, artists, and potential political opponents, they became victims of the planned executions that were carried out in the mid-late 70's. Approximately only 33 films were recovered out of the 350 that were made in this country.

It is a shame that, as of late, mainly B-style horror movies are being filmed and screened to Khmer audiences, if any audiences at all. (These films seem mostly popular with teenage audiences and aren't being widely distributed due to the poor quality of production and lack of plot development. This only re-inforces the ongoing closures of movie houses due to lack of financial support.) With the loss of quality filmmaking comes a hinderance to the cultural revolution that this country so needs. Not being a native nor resident here, I really don't have the information to make a one-sided argument for the need to initiate contemporary filmmaking nor criticize any country's situation regarding its accessibilty to fine arts and free media (especially when a country is facing so many other problems that should hold higher priority). To know that an activity I have always enjoyed and felt a beneficiary of is not even offered in Cambodia at this time makes me hope that things will be different over the next few years - that the younger Khmer generation will acknowledge the fact that creative arts can provide opportunities, not just in terms of careers, but in terms of uprising a cultural revolution. For a country that cannot forget its dark past (as its people are still suffering old wounds in the present), looking ahead to prospective industries in the arts can provide new direction to partial recovery. I'm a big believer in baby steps.

Until the Khmer people can once again demonstrate pride in work that is theirs to own and the country can efficiently market what it has to offer, Cambodia is going to remain challenged and viewed as unprepared to economically compete with its neighbors. Several of the nation's former leaders responsible for participation in the genocides are now (still) being tried for crimes committed decades ago. The news offers constant reminders that justice has not been served. With justice might come a peace of mind for survivors and the families of those who suffered, however, improvements for the future must be the current focus. Renewed interest in the arts and education, as well as improvements in basic infrastructure, must become investments in the years to come.

Cambodia is a beautiful country, and if you can get past the tragedy and try to understand what is needed to help build a steady future, you will appreciate it for all that it is worth and want to come back.

Siem Reap

2009-12-01T16:44:00.000-08:00

So I've decided to stay in Siem Reap until Saturday. Taking a bus back down to Phnom Penh to attend an all-day photography workshop on Sunday with Nathan Horton, a conscientious travel photographer from London. I read a number of positive reviews on his instruction style and hands-on weekend field trips, so the workshop should be a great way to spend some more time getting to know Cambodia, outside of it's major cities.

I haven't posted any pictures in a while, since Koh Tao actually. Blogger takes a long time to upload (only 5 images at once), so I haven't really found the time to do much on here besides write. I'm trying to be better about that.

Words don't do justice to the awe of Angkor Wat, its surrounding ruins, and the humbling and serene countryside we were able to bike through yesterday. I hope you enjoy the following images...

Surviving Phnom Penh

2009-11-29T05:04:00.000-08:00

In Phnom Penh, anything goes. That is when you're on the road.

Because we only have two days here, we decided to rent bikes again and ride through the city to see more of the daily life. The traffic is like nothing I have seen. Almost got my left foot ran over by ruthless motorbikes twice yesterday. There is traffic coming and going from every direction. People do not obey traffic lights as a rule. It's chaos.

Walking along the busy street beside the river is mesmerizing. Makes you think of France, although you wouldn't see as many monks walking by, sun-darkened street children selling questionably-safe-to-drink bottled water, desperate tuk tuk drivers hollering at you from every corner. We've definitely seen a lot more fried bugs being sold as snacks than during the beginning of this trip.

Wendy has earned a new nickname. It's the Toilet Paper Burglar (sort of like the Hamburglar from McDonalds). Because we're staying in somewhat of a roach motel (it's really not that bad) and the bathroom never has toilet paper, she has resorted to stealing toilet paper everywhere we go. She'll get this look in her eyes as we eat dinner, finish up, go into the bathroom and come out with a whole roll in her bag. It's hilarious. Do they have support groups for that?

Anyway, we went to a place called Friends The Restaurant for dinner last night. Not your typical Kmer restaurant and they really just serve tapas as opposed to super traditional Cambodia cusine, but honestly, what a great concept for a food establishment. The staff consists of former street children that were taken in to be cared for, mentored, and educated and trained to become part of the Friends staff. Re-integration with their families and communities is this NGO's key objective. Good food, good cause, excellent service from the attentive staff. It's a win-win situation for everyone. Check it out if you're planning to go to Phnom Penh. (We went on a Saturday night and had to wait only 5-10 min. with no reservations.)

http://www.mithsamlanh.org/ventures.php?id=12&catid=3

We're meeting back up with Nate in Siem Reap tomorrow. Looking for a photography workshop and possible homestay in that region since my visa for Vietnam isn't valid until Dec. 11th. Wendy leaves for Phuo Quoc on the 2nd, so it's goodbye soon.

*Here are some of the photographs I took at the Killing Fields outside of Phnom Penh and at the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. Somber settings and reminders of the dark past Cambodians have had to endure...

Walk like Elephant

2009-11-27T03:13:00.000-08:00

Wendy did good. Really good.

We ended up spending the last ten hours tending to individual elephants (Champu and Buchan) at Patara Elephant Farm about 30 min. from Chiang Mai. I cannot say enough positive things about Pat and his wife who run the farm and manage the breeding and health care of the 19 creatures that live there. To learn more about their mission and how they are accomplishing these goals, please please visit: http://www.pataraelephantfarm.com/

Not only will you walk away with a new found love and respect for these animals, you get a slice of education on Thai history, economics, and politics, as well as an understanding of why it would be wise to "walk like elephant, eat like elephant, and live like elephant." (For those who do not want to get their hands dirty, look elsewhere, as you will be inspecting elephant poo as part of the day's work...)

Was a great experience, and I'm grateful Wendy found a responsible organization that wants to do the right thing.

Chiang Mai

2009-11-25T22:15:00.000-08:00

Due to her natural knack for planning, Wendy has officially taken charge of our daytime activities in Chiang Mai for the rest of this week. We went zip-lining for the first time through Flight of the Gibbons, and now that I have done it, I know I could zipline all day without getting sick of it. Laughing hysterically, Wendy and I zoomed through a lush green rainforest just an hour north of Chiang Mai (near Mae Kompong). We spent a few hours doing this alongside a really good-humored young pair of newlyweds on their honeymoon from Brisbane, a cute elderly couple from Melbourne, a girl from Holland, and another pair of sisters from Chicago and Phoenix. Because our guides, Mr. B and Chaiyo, were so laid back and kept cracking jokes the entire time, it was hard not to have a fantastic time.

This rainforest is privately-owned land, and the man that started Flight of the Gibbons is from New Zealand. Part of the guide was learning about the various tea trees that grow on the land and the hard work that goes into collecting honey from some of the trees by the forest inhabitants. It's a forest that seems very well maintained, and according to their website, Flight of the Gibbons supports ecological education programs and funds a re-planting program to preserve Thailand’s native trees. Approximately 10% of their profits go toward rainforest rehabilitation and protecting the rare Gibbon ape. If interested and in the region, check out their website: http://www.treetopasia.com/. Pretty sure they have a branch near Pattaya and Bangkok, as well.

Tomorrow morning, we're heading back to the jungle, but this time to ride elephants. I know, I know. It's touristy...ugh. But, I'm hoping the agency my sister booked is at least part of an organization that helps sustain safe and healthy environments for these creatures. That's being optimistic; we'll see what we find. Tomorrow night should be interesting. Going to a local hangout called The Writer's Club and Wine Bar. Apparently, it's popular with local writers and journalists, especially on Friday nights. It's somewhat of a press club, so I'm sure we'll meet some colorful people there.

Over the last few months, several friends have teased me about the detail going into my posts. The reason why I list and name in so much detail is because I know people are going to ask for recommendations on things to do, places to go, and things to eat when they come to visit this region. I only feel that it's my duty to document as much as I can while I am here. When I studied in Siena and Hong Kong during my junior year of college, I hardly wrote anything in my journal, let alone was able to recall some of the names of places I stayed and ate at when my friends asked me upon returning back to the states. It's a shame because sometimes your memories do fade and your mind will fail you. I hope to look back on this trip, maybe when I'm old and grey, and be able to pull up vivid images of the experiences I'm having now at 26. Actually, I hope to always be open to doing something new and different even when I'm walking with a cane.

A different Thailand

2009-11-24T03:09:00.000-08:00

For those that have never been to Chiang Rai in northern Thailand, it's worth planning a trip as the city is so different from Bangkok and the islands of the south. It actually feels like a real town with quaint little neighborhoods and actual space to walk on the sidewalks. Lazy mornings spent grazing the city center's markets, young monks in vibrant tangerine robes walking to and from the temples, dragonflies and white butterflies flitting above the Mekong Delta, food huts standing on the side of dirt roads...this is the Thailand I've been waiting to see. (Funny thing is we have 5 different city maps and not one version seems to be accurate. Wendy decided today that we need to present the city with an edited consolidated version of their maps. I couldn't agree more.)

We arrived early yesterday evening and took it easy, finding a hole in the wall to grab dinner. Since nothing was in English and Chiang Rai does not seem to cater to many tourists, we just agreed on whatever our server mentioned. What we should have done, in retrospect, is ask for kow soi, the curry noodle dish/soup this region is known for. Lesson learned as we were served American-style Thai friend rice.

This morning, we rented mountain bikes from Fat Free Bikes (for 200 baht/person) and started the day by riding through the residential neighborhoods. What a beautifully old and historic town. The roads are fairly flat, and the ride was just what we were looking for. We waited for a herd of cows to cross the road, smiled at old wrinkly women wearing long sleeves and sweaters in 80 degree heat, greeted shop owners holding their toddlers with "Sawahdeekah," and tried not to get ourselves killed riding on the left side of the road. We also found Chiang Rai beach which actually sits on the side of the Mekong river and does not look like a beach at all. I was surprised to find that there were only three or four other people there on such a gorgeous day. It's always pleasant when you go somewhere in Thailand and find that it hasn't been overly developed or commercialized. Rare, but pleasant.

Tomorrow, after we return our bikes and find the best kow soi in Chiang Rai, we're getting back on the Green Bus and heading south to Chiang Mai to spend the rest of the week. Looking forward to spending more time outside breathing in the lush air and being active.

The food tour of Thailand continues...

2009-11-21T23:52:00.000-08:00

This morning, Wendy and I woke up early to go to our Thai cooking class. Originally, Nate was to join us, however, when one goes out the previous night and meets a group of local university students who praise you if you can pound a full cup of Singha and challenge you to drinking "towers," one might not feel well the next morning. Especially since one of the young students we befriended, Jay, took us dancing afterwards at RCA district and to Sukhumvit's Soi 38 where we all consumed the most delicious dishes of chicken and rice and bowls of bbq pork noodle soups at 3 in the morning. I had Jay ask the vendor if he could give me a little of the spicy gravy to take with me and he ended up giving me a bagful that I now do not know what to do with. Are you allowed to take a bag of gravy through customs at the Bangkok airport? Guess we'll find out tomorrow when we leave for Chiang Mai.

Our worldly young instructor met us at a skytrain station and we proceeded to pick up 5 other students, all of whom were from Austrailia, UK, and the States. He walked us over to a produce/meat/fish market in the Silom district and educated us about all of the ingredients we would be using today. We spent time sniffing and eying everything as he threw various bunches of leaves, handfuls of mushrooms, bags of colorful dried chilis into our weaved baskets. Then we walked over to where I assume he might live and were welcomed into a studio where small wooden tables were set up, along with a small prep area in the back and individual stove stations stood on the open air balcony. The class required us to clean and prep the fresh vegetables, grind the ingredients for curry paste, and actually cook (and eat immediately upon completion of each dish) 5 different dishes. They were: Chicken Galangal Coconut Soup (Tom Kha Gai), Chicken with Cashew Nut (Gai Phad Med Ma Muang), Spicy Mungbean Noodle Salad (Yam Woon Sen), Red Curry Chicken (Kaeng Phet Gai), and Fried Fish Cakes (Thod Mun Pla). After the first two entrees, Wendy and I were hitting a slump. Not only were we already full from the food, but I think lack of sleep from the previous night was catching up to us. Overall, each dish turned out incredibly flavorful and was a reminder that it just takes fresh and quality produce/ingredients to make a simple meal mindblowing.

Our instructor leads a pretty rough life. He works just a few hours (9am-1pm) during each weekday instructing anywhere from 3-14 people (all paying approx. 1000 baht per lesson), meets people from all over the world who sign up to take his courses and are there wanting to learn, and travels every summer for three months out of the year. Wendy and I did the math after we left his apartment and decided that he is doing really well for a Thai native. Not too shabby.

What was great was that he was a very engaging instructor, and it was a very interactive lesson in traditional Thai cooking. I felt like we definitely picked a great cooking course taught by an instructor who has a lot of knowledge to share, whose not afraid to throw in sarcastic jokes at your expense, and genuinely enjoys what he does for a living. Out of 5 stars, I give it a 4.
Hope Nate goes later this week since he's staying here for a while.

And who says Three's a Crowd?

2009-11-21T01:00:00.000-08:00

As I am now in the (good) company of my sister and friend, I find that I have less time to write.

We're currently (back) in Bangkok - arrived on Thursday. On the first day that Wendy arrived, we were able to check out Wat Po and get Thai traditional massages at the Massage School within the temple grounds. I had a crick in my neck from sleeping on the Lomprayah bus the previous night and thought the massage woould do wonders. Wow. Have you ever gotten a traditional Thai massage? They are no joke. The way your pressure points are kneaded like raw dough...let's just say it was not like the oil massage I fell asleep during in Koh Tao. It was a very cool experience, albeit the pain. You take a number as you walk in and wait to be called into a room full of people (mostly tourists) who are contorted into various yogic positions. My new friend, Wow, whom we met up for dinner last night said it the best, " It's like yoga for lazy people."

That same night, we were able to catch the Thursday night Muay Thai line up at the Ratchadamnoen Boxing stadium. We decided on mid-range seats that cost 1500 baht/person (less than $50). Even the most economical tickets were surprisingly expensive at 1000 baht, especially if you're on a Thai payroll. The first match started at 6:30pm and the 10th, or last, match ended after 10. You can buy snacks and beer (a bit overpriced) once inside, but the array of street food vendors right outside the stadium was spectacular. There's also an outdoor covered patio where you can grab seats and a table to enjoy your meal, as well.

The matches were pretty entertaining. The youngest boys looked about the age of 15 or 16, and they were in incredible shape. Whatever their daily diet or rigorous training regime, I plan to follow (or at least attempt to follow) once back in SF. We'll see how that goes...

I took a good number of pictures of the first few boxing matches, but since it takes such a long time to post, I think I'll save that for another time. The hostel we are staying at Suk11 in Sukhumvit (which I highly recommend!) has only one downfall. Their internet service is dependent on this little machine that you insert 10 baht coins into, and it controls your access. I find it not as convenient as just paying the front desk for however many minutes you're online. Oh well. Every other feature this hostel offers is pretty great, so I'm not going to complain.

Tonight, the three of us are heading to the different beer gardens at Central World near Siam Square. According to Wow, and evidence we witnessed walking by last night, during the winter months when the heat is actually bearable, outdoor beer gardens are set up featuring Chang, Singha, Tiger, and a few other German beers. There are live bands playing Thai as well as international cover music playing at each station, and you are encouraged to order "towers" of beer, accompanied by small Thai dishes throughout the night. It looked like a great time from what we saw, so we are definitely looking forward to checking it out tonight.

Running out of time, but I will be posting up pictures of Bangkok soon, hopefully before we leave for Chiang Mai on Monday morning.

Anthony Bourdain would have been proud

2009-11-14T22:06:00.001-08:00

After my second session of Muay Thai yesterday, Bang, the trainer I've been working with, invited me over for dinner at the gym. Apparently he and the other trainers eat and sleep there, calling it their home. Of course, I accepted and agreed to meet them later that night. Not knowing what to expect, I brought along a handful of Chang and Singha beers and showed up promptly at 7:30. In the middle of the training mat we had just trained on earlier that day, there was a small bamboo mat, and Jimmy, Samat, and Bang were running around bringing a number of fragrant, colorful dishes out from the kitchen and setting them onto the mat. The front desk receptionist and another elderly man both joined us on the mat as we sat cross-legged for the family style meal, and I swear, it was straight out of a No Reservations episode.

Before Choam (the receptionist) and I started scooping rice onto the men's plates, a black wasp about the size of my thumb flew straight into my head and got stuck in my hair. Not wanting to cause a scene, I tried to brush it off with my hand. Bang decided to take matters into his own hands (literally) and grabbed it and threw it across the courtyard. It never bothered me again.
We proceeded to dig into the 7 traditional dishes Bang prepared all by himself. I asked him how long it took him to cook everything, and astonishingly, he replied "half hour." Over the course of an hour, we ate: a dish of beef in yellow curry, bittermelon and vegetables in red curry, minced pork with fried holy basil, garlic, and chilies (my new favorite), a fried whole fish, soup with melon and chicken similar to one my mom makes, spicy garlic and pepper fish, and an egg omelet. No surprise, but it was by far the best Thai meal I've ever had. Although my hosts spoke minimal English and my command of Thai is pathetic, I'm pretty sure they knew how much I enjoyed the meal seeing that I finished the entire heap of food on my plate. What surprised me, though, was the fact that they throw out leftovers instead of keeping it for the next day. I tried to say that it seemed like such a waste, but my Thai-English dictionary failed me, and I had to use hand gestures to try to discourage them from throwing away the food. They laughed and said, "Tomorrow buy again." For people who are not making a lot money, they sure were okay with throwing away good food. It was really hard for me to understand.

After dinner, Jimmy, Samat, and Bang wanted to play poker, so I sat with my beer and observed. Watching them play a version I'd never seen before, I had a hard time making sense of the game no matter how intently I watched and followed their motions. They played for another hour before we decided to head down to Chalok Baan Kao to check out what Bang called a "free hill concert by Esan people." We hopped on their motorbikes and rode up to what would have been considered a carnival or a fair in the States. It seemed like the entire population of Koh Tao was at this fair, minus any tourists or foreigners. There was a group performing and dancers on the stage, but the guys wanted to go straight to the games section of the fairground. That's when I realized that Thai men are gamblers. Bang refused to leave the table where he was spending thousands and thousands of baht. After an hour, he had us hold his spot so he could run to the ATM for more money. From what I could tell, the game he was playing was no different from a Roulette table in Vegas. I was shocked at how nonchalantly he was willing to drop his week's earnings on what I consider a game of luck. As much as I wanted to discourage him, I knew he was a grown man (31, actually), and it was up to him on how he wanted to spend his money. After a little while longer, I knew it was time for me to go, so I asked Jimmy's friend to take me back to Sairee Village. They probably thought I was square for turning in early, but really, I just didn't want to spend any more money losing on these games and was in a serious food coma from the feast.

At the end of the day, I'm glad I accepted Bang's invitation to hang out with him and his "family." I'm grateful that they accepted me, a stranger, into their home for dinner and am so appreciative of the effort they made to make sure I was comfortable and entertained throughout the night. I just wish I spoke Thai so that I could fully express the gratitude I feel, but I guess I'll just have to count on the faith that they already know. I plan on bringing Nate into the gym to introduce him to the guys once he arrives in Koh Tao, as I'm positive he'll want to do some training during his time here. Until then, I'm going to try and score those recipes from Bang so I can give the dishes a try in my own kitchen at home.

2009-11-13T23:35:00.000-08:00

Very excited that Nate, one of my closest friends in SF, is landing in Bangkok tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to being in good company, as I know Nate is going to be just that. Willing to try new things, having an open mind, and providing an endless source of entertainment - it's hard for me to think of a better wing man. I think he is going to get a lot out of his experience here in southeast Asia.

Until Nate arrives, I'm going to continue enjoying my time here. Walked over to Island Muay Thai and took a personal training session yesterday and absolutely loved it. What a workout. I felt so much more exhilarated after that 1.5 hr session than I have in weeks! The training was done entirely outdoors in 85+ degree heat with high humidity. My trainer's name was Bang, and just from observation, I think he is in his early 30s. I could tell that there were times when he wanted to laugh at me, but was trying to be polite and hold back. My punches and side kicks seemed decent, but the front kicks were tricky. I was so afraid that my foot would slip and accidentally kick him in the crotch, which it did a few times. We'll be working on that tonight when I go in for round 2. Tonight's lesson will include the side face and elbow hits, uppercuts, and knee kicks. Can't wait.

I was out eating dinner the other night and came up with this list. If you have more to add, please feel free to post. I'm sure there's a lot I left out, but these seem to help me...

The Official Guide to Combating Loneliness When Traveling Solo:

1) Go to the most popular bar and sip on a strong drink while you watch the sunset.
2) Be friendly to your bartender.
3) Be thankful that you can walk, run, and breathe. You're alive!
4) Go somewhere where the music is good.
5) Try to do something new every day.
6) See how many activities you can participate in without having to pay a dime.
7) Write. Even if it's to yourself.
8) Laugh out loud when you run into a problem.
9) Smile at the person sitting next to you.
10) Be grateful that you aren't dealing with a partner you are fighting or arguing with. (Surprisingly, I've seen way too many of those here on Koh Tao.)
11) Enjoy the silence.
12) Bring along a book you won't want to put down.
13) Go outside and look at the stars.
14) Find out where you can dance.
15) Try to count how many different countries are being represented by fellow diners.
16) Make a beeline for the door if it's all couples.
17) Play nice with others.
18) Ask other travelers where they recommend you go next.

Also, I did end up volunteering at the nursery school for a few days this past week. Had to call Aaron because I completely forgot the rules to Heads Up 7-Up and was trying to teach a group of 40 three-year olds who speak Thai, Burmese, and Lao. Needless to say, it was a failed mission, and the kids just looked up at me very confused. As an alternative, Ms. Lei made me stand in the middle of a circle and sing Old McDonald, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and The Wheels on the Bus. (Dad, you would have been so proud - I tried to teach them the song from The Sound of Music ~ "Doe, a deer, a female deer. Ray, a drop of golden sun. Me, a name I call myself. Far, a long long way to run. Sew, a needle pulling thread...." It's too bad that they weren't familiar with the movie at all. I thought The Sound of Music was an international hit, no?) Anyway, what I did learn was Chevron's probable motive for donating so much money to the primary school. Apparently, the company made a public presentation of the results of their initial environmental impact study for oil exploration about 65 km. off the coast of Koh Tao. The project is referred to as G4/50 and calls for 12 sites to be explored for existence of hydrocarbon. Most of the local audience they presented to were vehemently opposed to Chevron's plans.

This reminded me of my four years in Santa Barbara, where oil rigs filled the horizon off the coast where we lived. I remember walking along the beach below the street of DP and having to scratch the black tar off of my feet every time we got out of the water. What should have been a pleasant stroll became a reminder of the sacrifices we make to keep up with globalisation and its endless demands. I hope that Koh Tao can retain most of it's natural beauty and small town charm for much longer, although looking at the way the other islands (Koh Samui, Ko Phi Phi, etc.) have further developed into commercial money-makers, it might be just a couple of years before it becomes just like one of the others.

Peter Pans don't just live in San Francisco

2009-11-11T21:29:00.000-08:00

Last night, I watched The Beach for the first time on (where else) the beach. Backpackers in search of this pristine island that happens to be a natural dope growing oasis, threatening dangers they failed to foresee. Everyone trying to find something no one else knows about. Trying to discover the unknown, untouched, unseen. Isn't that what we are all trying to pursue? Finding Eden? Even if we know we will always want more.

I think it may come down to wanting to delay the inevitable: growing up. In The Beach, the main character (Richard) goes to Thailand and feels the need to prove something to himself, and most likely, to others. He walks through his time there as if it's a game to be won. He is ultimately trying to escape everything that is familiar and safe. Sometimes, we need to open our eyes and just grow up. Running away because we want to stay Peter Pan in NeverNeverland is only going to bring about temporary satisfaction. Even Joe Cummings, one of the original Thailand area specialists for Lonely Planet starts to get weary from his travels. For a guy who spends 6 months hopping from one city to another (and the rest of the 6 months writing about it), you would think he'd be estactic to lead a very challenging, fast-paced life. While he is able to appreciate what he does for a living, it does get mundane after a while. Living out of your backpack, sleeping in a different bed every night, the loneliness that can overwhelm you - it's tough work and is probably not as glamorous as one might think.

I can understand if every once in a while, you do something to shake things up. That's what allows you to appreciate both everyday life at home and the exotic of getting out and going somewhere you haven't been before. When I find what I love to do, my hope is that I will not feel the need to get away, but be able to take a break and truly enjoy it for what it is - a break

Ok, enough about movie nights on Koh Tao. My notebook has become my best friend. I rarely go anywhere without it and feel lost when I do forget to put it in my bag. These blog posts stem from the jumbled notes I furiously scribble while people-watching, eating breakfast, or watching the sunset with a frosty Singha in my hand. Writing these accounts and knowing that you are reading some of my most personal thoughts and opinions has been liberating, to say the least. For some of you, it might feel like you are now just getting to know me, even if we have been friends for a decade (or more). I am able to write freely and say things I might not actually share with you in person. I hope I haven't offended anyone (and if so, sorry, you'll just have to deal) and I really do hope I haven't been the voice of a Debbie Downer. If there are points you disagree with me on, I would like nothing more but to hear from you when I'm back in SF. I'm not trying to use this blog as some sort of soap box, but I wouldn't be surprised if there are people reading who find that it might seem that way. Overall, I am happy to share these experiences and personal epiphanies as they come along. Traveling alone for this portion of the trip has made for some lonely moments, but being able to share on this blog has provided me with a sense of consistency I am missing from home.

I hope you are well wherever you are reading this from. Thank you for listening.

.

Meeting your neighbors

2009-11-09T22:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, I met with a man named Khun Dusit, whom I spoke with briefly on the phone Monday night. Khun serves on the Mae Haad Primary School Committee and helps delegate opportunities for volunteers throughout the nursery and elementary school here on the island. The school is located next to Wat Koh Tao (the temple) and educates approximately 110 elementary-aged children, along with supervising 80 preschoolers. Talking with Khun, I found that he was born on the island, went to primary school in Koh Samui, completed his university degree in Bangkok, and worked in the large capital for years before coming back to Koh Tao to care for his parents and work for the school. He spoke excellent English and carried the demeanor of a kind uncle.

He gave a brief tour of the school grounds and walked me over to introduce me to one of the nursery school teachers, Ms. Lei. Khun explained who I was and why I was standing before her. Over the next two minutes, they proceeded to speak in Thai, nodded their heads, gave me a final look-over, smiled, and agreed on something. With a huge grin, he turned to me and said, "Ok. You come tomorrow morning at 9 and join this classroom for the day." I asked, "What will I be doing?" "Playing with the kids." he replied. Ah, of course. Although I love children and definitely would not mind spending a few hours entertaining them, I was hoping I'd get the chance to be involved in teaching them some skills or something that might have a more lasting effect. Oh well. Maybe this will lead to other duties. Who knows? This is no time to be picky.

So, I thanked them both and said I would see them Wednesday morning. On the way out, Khun pointed out a distracting construction site behind the classrooms and courtyard. He said it was something Chevron was funding, a 1.5 million THB or USD (?) project to improve the school. I didn't quite catch what it was exactly, but I am curious and plan to further investigate. I'd like to know how this is going to benefit Chevron, outside of helping to build their philanthropic reputation.

With nothing else planned for the day, I walked towards the Mae Haad Pier where all of the ferries unload passengers from the other islands and mainland. Walking down the main drag, I noticed a small dress shop that looked like it was closed and hadn't seen a visitor in months. I was surprised because this shop looked nothing like the hundreds of others I'd seen over the last week and a half. (Wow, I've been here for too long.) The others all sell brightly colored sarongs, bikinis that probably won't last you more than 5 swims, and overpriced "island" fashions that you most likely will not wear once you get home. No, this place was different. From the window displays, (from what I could tell), I would actually wear a lot of what they had back in SF. That's when I noticed a girl who was probably a few years older than me or around my age was sitting on the steps by the front door. As I came up the steps and opened the door, she followed me into the store and said, "I thought you Thai. Where you from?" (It's funny - it usually takes me a few minutes to explain to people here where I was born and where I am coming from. I feel like I have to tell my life story before the introduction is complete.) We started talking, and I found myself more interested in getting to know her than in looking at the dresses. I was almost forcing myself to comb through the racks, not paying attention to anything except what she had to say.

I learned that Na is originally from a smaller village outside of Pattaya, but has worked at D-Da Shop and lived on Koh Tao for about a year. She thinks this island is too small and that it's nothing more of an eye sore if you aren't in the water and diving through coral reefs or lounging on the white sand beaches. We talked a little more about the neighboring islands, what people usually do here, and complained about the lack of good Thai places on KT. After our conversation, I promised her I would come back to actually buy something before leaving (that's if/when my card comes and I can spend more freely). She stopped me as I was leaving and said, "Next time you come, we go to eat at my favorite place. Thai food. Very close. Not expensive, and most important, clean." I agreed and couldn't help but smile as I walked out. My first local friend.

These are the types of meetings that truly make me happy. Connections you make with others albeit language and cultural barriers. It's reassuring that most of us, regardless of race, ethnicity, religion, just want to understand each other and our differences.

Until next time: Go outside and meet someone. You have nothing to lose...

Eye candy

2009-11-08T20:24:00.000-08:00

It's fair to say that Koh Tao can be compared to Catalina Island on spring break. Walking around Sairee Village, you can hear M.I.A., Kid Cudi, and Wyclef simultaneously bumping out of bars with misspelled names. Most of the restaurant and hospitality staff on the island are Burmese or Lao refugees. On the first day we arrived, my friend sat down at one of the cafe tables inside the Big Blue Dive Resort (I wouldn't call it an actual resort, since a night in one of their bungalows only costs $7 USD) and asked the server (in Thai) whether she spoke Thai. She mumbled something, went into the kitchen, and came back out with a ball of raw dough in her hand saying, "This is what we make our pizza with." It was actually quite funny.

The island caters to backpackers looking to dive during the day and drink questionable concoctions of Thai whiskey, Red Bull, and Coke out of plastic white buckets at night. I have yet to drink out of a bucket (ironically my first was in a Seattle karaoke bar this summer), but have gone out a few nights hanging out with people from England, Germany, Italy, Canada, and Thailand. I am positive this place is being further developed under the assumption that backpackers want food from their own countries (would explain the restaurants called El Gringo, Portobello, Shalimar, and another at Bans Resort that has an uncanny resemblance to TGI Fridays in the States) and desire to have every amenity available to them, even if it means sacrificing a real Thai experience. 7-Elevens are abundant and sell everything you can think of; they even mail your postcards. Internet cafes charge 1 Baht per minute (that's less than a cent a minute) and you can do your laundry for 40 Baht per kilo. I can see why some people might end up staying here, but I think I would get island fever after a few weeks and want to get back to reality.

Currently, I'm reading a borrowed book titled Travelers' Tales - Thailand. It's an anthology of stories and experiences written by individuals who have traveled through this country as a visitor. It's amazing how each tale reflects things I am learning about everyday life in Thailand. The themes I find most prominent and affective focus around the Thai ability to "keep a cool heart," the need to utilize land and water with respect, and the importance of being true to oneself. Aspects of Buddhism seem to resonate in everything I see and hear. I find myself wanting to live more purely and simply, only having been here for a little over a week. It's always hard when you return home from a trip like this and you try to incorporate what you've learned abroad into your normal daily life. Sometimes, it seems like things just don't apply - no matter how hard you try. I hope I'm able to take some things away with me that I can implement and share with others.

I'm conflicted about where I want to go next. Do I want to take the risk of trying to find a place that will be harder for me to get to but reap the reward of discovering a local culture and custom that I'm not reading about in my Lonely Planet? Or should I at least pay homage to the places that I know people will be disappointed if they knew I came to Thailand and did not visit? I actually don't have much interest in visiting Koh Samui, Koh Phi Phi, Phuket, among the other jewels of Thailand's southwestern coastline. I feel like I've gotten enough reading done on the beach here at Koh Tao. When I first drew an outline of this trip, places like Krabi and Koh Lanta were on my itinerary, but I find myself more and more turned off by tourist attractions and an endless number of dread-locked Europeans sunbathing. I could get that anywhere, really.

I've been reading more about Hat Yai and Songkhla, the Muslim communities of which Thais call the Deep South. Apparently, I can take a ferry from Koh Tao to Surat Thani, and then catch a bus to Songkhla. Total trip should take about less than 7-8 hours. Although, considering the transportation system here (unpredictable delays and cancellations), you never know. Hat Yai and Songkhla both hold official bullfights (bull vs. bull, not bull vs. human) during different times of the year that neither many foreigners know about nor attend. If I can secure a way of getting there safely and accommodations for a few nights, that just may be my next destination. Don't get me wrong, I don't support animal cruelty nor am I an avid animal rights activist, but because this is a part of southern Thai culture, I would like to witness this for myself and make my own judgments. In addition to that, the origins of Songkhla go back to a number of Guandong immigrants (Guandong being my ancestral province) who settled there and helped develop the city into what it is today. I'd like to see how much of that influence has remained and learn more about the religious history (and conflict) of the region.

Ok, now for some visuals. Here are pictures from my hotel room in Bangkok, the pier at Chumphon (departing for Koh Tao), the Big Blue Dive Resort, the children's pageant during the annual Loi Krathong Festival (I absolutely fell in love with the little girl in pink and could not bring myself to stop taking photos of her), studying for my dive exam at breakfast, and hanging out with my dive class (and their plus ones). Please forgive me, as the quality of the photos are not great (especially at the pageant since I was holding the camera above eye level and shuffling among the locals trying to get front row standing space).

Finding Nemo

2009-11-06T22:02:00.000-08:00

I'm starting to think that the purpose of this trip is facing my fears. Un-beknownst to you all, I made a pact with myself on the 2nd day of my stay here in Koh Tao NOT to blog until I received an Open Water scuba diving certification. This morning, I completed my 4th dive and got my certification. (You may applause now.)

If you know me well, you probably know that I've always had a massive fear of deep bodies of water. This isn't something I've ever been particularly willing to share, but if you've been with me in a lake or an ocean, I'm sure you've seen me panic if I can't swim to a nearby shore quickly. (I'm fine getting from one end to another, but treading water is definitely not a strength for me.) Wednesday was the first day of dives with the rest of my group led by our Open Water instructor, a Swedish Paul Walker look-alike (Ladies. I kid you not, it was a bit distracting). We had already sat through multiple Knowledge Reviews, Quizzes, Videos, and a Final Exam during the first few days of this week. When we finally went down on the first dive, another young lady from London and I had trouble equalizing our ears on the descent and staying at the bottom comfortably, so we both came up and rested while the group finished being tested on their skills for Dive 1 & 2. I thought, okay, today's weather conditions weren't magnificent, and that's probably why I was so nervous down there. I'll give it another try when the weather gets better. (Keep in mind, the monsoon season has officially started, and it's been pouring on and off every other day this week.)

Well, the group finished Dives 3 & 4 by Thursday night, and Victoria and I decided to watch their video with them. I felt so disappointed in myself for not finishing with the rest of my group because that video of their last dive was spectacular. I made a final decision and said to myself that I would not leave this island until I went back down again and finished the entire course. So, I did. It was just me and my instructor, Erik, yesterday and I did fine on every skill except the mask flooding. For some reason, I am so reliant on my mask, even if I know that I am breathing only with my regulator and don't necessarily need the mask for anything except to focus underwater. Anyway, Erik put off that skill for me to complete today, and even though I had a difficult time with it, I finally got it down and scored well on all the skills by the end of Dive 4. It felt so good to know that I didn't allow myself to give up. Being underwater at 15m is like being in another world. I felt like we were exploring another planet; it was incredibly humbling. (Also, Liana, if you are reading, we saw a few clownfish in anenome and I immediately thought of you and the Tank.) In the end, I feel extremely proud of myself and am looking forward to doing more dives with friends, possibly in Indonesia next month. Start looking for flights if you care to join me....

On land, I'm still waiting for my debit card to arrive. Might take another week or so. Since it would be a pain to go somewhere else and have to come back in a week or a few days just to pick up the card, I might as well stick around and find something to preoccupy my time. There's actually a Muay Thai boxing gym down the road where I might look into grabbing a few lessons over the next few days. If not that, there is also a temple and school down the street where I could possibly volunteer until I need to depart for another city. Ideally, I would venture down to Songkhla (a mostly Muslim community) where the architecture and cuisine is a fusion of Thai, Muslim, and Chinese. I haven't heard much about the city and am not 100% positive that it's safe from political unrest, but if I could get down there easily, I bet I could find an interesting story and talk to some of the residents about nearby Hat Yai (a place which Lonely Planet Thailand warns readers NOT to go to, for safety precautions). Mom and Dad, if you are reading this - don't worry, I will do much more research and try to get more information on this place before I head down there. After that, Krabi and Ko Lanta might be a good stop to check out the limestone rock climbing @ Railay. Then it's back to Bangkok on the 19th to meet up with my sister, Wendy. Very excited to share this experience with her, as I only see her about twice a year if I'm lucky. From Bangkok, we'll make our way up north to Chiang Mai and also spend a few days in Chiang Rai. There are supposed to be some amazing hillside trails for biking, so we'll get that figured out once we are in the region.

I keep saying I'm going to post pictures, but I think I'll do that all at once further down the road. I'm actually journaling a lot more than I'm taking photographs (unfortunately), but I think it's because the pictures I would be taking here would look like the ones everyone else is taking, or would look like the photos you see in guidebooks. I guess I am just waiting to be inspired by something or someone. That's one of the main reasons why I want to explore more cities that not a lot of foreigners go to. It's been hard to find, since most of the places I've heard about have become havens for most tourists, I think I need to befriend more locals. That will be my next mission over the weekend. Done and Done.

Sawadeekah....

3 posts in the span of 24 hrs....

2009-11-01T01:15:00.000-07:00

So, a semi-wise person once advised me NOT to sit in front of the computer all day while traveling. I can't help it. Sometimes, there is so much going on during the span of just a few hours or one day, I feel the need to document or else the moment is fleeting and forgotten. (Don't worry, I'm still out and enjoying the hustle and bustle of Bangkok. Just need a short break to gather my thoughts and rest my feet.)

During my first night in Bangkok, my friend Tan introduced me an individual she met in her MBA program and became friends with (this is the same person whom I had a memorable conversation with about Thai politics). Well, we stayed in touch via phone and text yesterday and decided on meeting up for lunch this afternoon. After talking about the three weeks he spent in October training in monk-hood and giving me a personal lesson in Buddhism, he actually decided that he was going to join me for the Open Water scuba course starting tomorrow in Koh Tao. Talk about spontaneous. This isn't your normal easy every day kind of trek. We're supposed to take an overnight bus to Chumphon and then take a ferry to get to Koh Tao. The course lasts three and a half days and consists of full days of instruction, tests, and open water dives. This was going to be a commitment. I'm not sure if this is common nature of Thai people, but I have found most to be fairly flexible and open-minded.

Not to jump around on topics, but I'd like to touch back onto Buddhism. Since I was a young child (before moving to the States), I could recall holding my grandmother's hand and walking into various temples with her in Hong Kong. I distinctly remember the thick smells of burning incense sticks and elderly Chinese people (you know, the usual suspects: moth balls, tiger balm, Chinese medicine, etc.). At that time, I did not know much about the religion, its history, nor why my grandmother was so adamant about frequenting these temples and paying her respect. I just knew that she strictly practiced, would obediently bow to the golden figures, close her eyes, and her mouth would move, but I was not able to hear any words come out of it. My grandmother is not the most logical, rational woman I've ever met (not even close), yet I have always been fascinated by the intensity in which she believes in the afterlife, in karma, and in the merits of your present life and how your actions will lead to certain consequences. Having been raised Catholic, I really didn't have the opportunity to explore Buddhism in a small town of 9,000 in central California. After talking with my new friend today over lunch, I have peaked a newfound interest in the art of meditation and how it might be beneficial to my health and state of mind. Now if I could only find a place in San Francisco where I can easily drown out the noise of sirens and passing cars, not in my bedroom that's for sure.

Chase Card Services, you owe me big time.

2009-10-31T22:49:00.000-07:00

Ugh. My debit card has decided to fail me today. Tried to use it to check out of my hotel and then tried to use it again to take out cash from the ATM. FAIL. It's Sunday (meaning banks are closed), and I leave for the island of Koh Tao on an overnight bus and ferry tonight at 9pm. I have limited cash. If karma is real, I'm hoping the karma gods are smiling down on me now...

When in BKK

2009-10-31T01:40:00.000-07:00

Day 1 in Bangkok:

Arrived yesterday afternoon and realized, wow, my pack is fairly heavy. I thought I had packed light, but when it was weighed at SFO, it was well over 50 lbs. Not a good idea to carry a 50 lb. pack on your back for three months, knowing that I will accumulate additional items along the way. I just may have to send some things back. (My mom was pretty funny at the airport. She said, "Oh no! Maybe you should buy a rolling duffel bag or a backpack with wheels so it's not so hard on you." Can you imagine?! A backpacker lugging around something with wheels? Wouldn't that be ironic? Wouldn't I be ridiculed by the backpacking community for rolling something on wheels for three months? I do not plan on sacrificing my pride, but thanks for the suggestion, Mom.)

I had checked the weather before departing and the forecast called for rainy days this first week. It's been a humid 86 degrees and sunny with no signs of wet. You won't hear complaints from me, but I know now that I probably didn't need to pack an extra jacket. I've been hearing that this is the best time to be in Thailand, since November is usually dry and cool in most regions.

Last night, I got in touch with my friend Tan, a young lady whom I worked with at a sushi restaurant during my last year at UCSB. Tan moved back to Bangkok six months ago to begin the Sasin MBA program at Chulalongkorn University and was kind enough to invite me to her school fundraiser down by Siam Square. After getting lost with my non-English speaking taxi driver for 30 minutes, I arrived in front of Tan's campus and had to laugh at how under-dressed I was compared to everyone at this party. I had decided to bring only my Nike Plus' and Rainbows on this trip, thus was not prepared to greet an enormous number of local Thais dressed in these stylish fashion forward gowns and all made up for this event. I wore my Rainbows, a long tunic, and black tights. If you know me well, you most likely know that I rarely leave my apartment looking underdressed for anything...this was a great moment indeed.

I shrugged off feeling like bum and decided this was a perfect opportunity to get to know some of the locals and hear what they had to say about living in this city. Tan was the most gracious hostess and introduced me to some of her friends and classmates as the girl from the US who is traveling ALL BY HERSELF FOR THREE MONTHS (*not completely true as my sister and a friend or two are meeting me later throughout the trip). I capitalize those words because that is the only way I can communicate the tone in her voice when she said this and the reactions she got from her peers. "Are you sure you want to do that?" "Why all by yourself?" people kept asking me. Umm, yeah, it's too late to change that and all by myself because have you ever tried asking your friends whether they can take three full months off to explore southeast asia with you? I doubt most people are in the situation where they can say yes. Even though it's going to be a little lonely at times, and I know there are going to be moments where words aren't necessary and I want to turn to someone and share an experience with, I am happy to be doing this.

Anyway, back to the fundraiser. Tan's planning committee hired a local Thai band called ETC to perform. They were incredibly talented and even I was able to enjoy the catchy tunes. There was a moment during an especially moving song when Tan turned to me and asked, " Can you appreciate the music even if you don't understand what they are saying?" I thought about this for a second, and I'm not sure if I conveyed this to her, but I felt like I was appreciating it even more so because I was trying to grasp every single lyric, trying to recognize a familiar word, even trying to listen for words that might be similar in Cantonese. You know when you're listening to a great song, and you don't know the words, but you sing along to it anyway? That's exactly what I was doing. Just yelling along with the rest of the audience, although if you really listened, none of the lyrics I made up even made sense.

Outside of the main hall where ETC was performing was a giant swimming pool and bar/food stations set up to accomodate the thirsty/hungry crowd. We looked over to Tan's friend, and Tan realized she was talking to a Thai movie star (and/or singer) who is also part of the program but completing the Executive MBA on nights and weekends. It's funny, I always seem to run into celebrities while in Asia. Guess they hang out with the locals and are a little more low key in terms of needing a posse or security guards all around them. We chatted with them. He asked me the same questions the others asked.

All in all, I had a wonderful time catching up with Tan and talking to her friends about how frustrating and complex Thai politics is (thank you Lonely Planet for briefing me on the history of Thaksin and the differing views of the Reds/Yellows), their dating experiences, and lifestyle changes since going back to school. Tan, if you're reading this, thank you so much for a great first night in Bangkok. If you ever need a place to stay in SF, my apartment is always open.

Day 2:

Got up this morning and decided to get out on the town for more sensory overload. One of the girls at the front desk has been so helpful and friendly and recommended that I check out the weekend market called Chatachuk. Although I have become somewhat hesitant to frequent these markets as they are usually overflowing with tourists, as well as pick-pocketers, I decide why not. I know I can't do any of the good stuff since Wendy would be offended if I didn't wait for her so we could do those things together once she gets here. (Also, note to self and others: when in doubt and lost, try to seek out a teenager in school uniform. 90% of the time, they are capable of speaking some English and are willing to help you - that is if they are not in a hurry to get somewhere themselves.) I wait at the bus stop and am surprised when a lady starts speaking Thai to me and asks me to help her open up a bag. Before I left the states, someone asked me whether I thought I would have an advantage being an Asian traveler here. Initially, I said I wasn't sure. I've always felt that I stuck out like a sore thumb every time I've visited Hong Kong since moving to CA. Maybe it's because of my clothes, or because my skin has a darker tint than the creamy white most Asian girls try to achieve in these countries, but yes, always felt different - sort of torn in-between, neither feeling completely American nor completely Chinese (or Hong Kong-nese in this case). Anyway, to answer his question: Yes, I do feel like I've been able to get by without too much trouble or unwanted attention because of what I look like. So far, most of the vendors in Bangkok have mistaken me for Thai, Filipina, and Japanese. All so different, I know, but those are the few ethnicities that they have labeled me in the last two days. When I politely correct them by saying that I'm originally from Hong Kong, they say "Oh yes, that was my next guess."

Today is Halloween. Think I'm going to accept an invitation from the front desk receptionist whom invited me to check out Ko San Rd. with her and her friends. Hopefully, no costumes are necessary as I have not created one nor do I have any ideas just yet. Ko San, a block consisting of restaurants and pubs, is supposed to be crawling with backpackers, but also very popular for the locals once the sun sets. Not really expecting anything, but should be a fun night getting to know more people and hopefully hearing more live music. Oh, and Aaron, if you are reading this, the music I keep hearing all over town is Lady Gaga. Paparrazi to be specific. Bangkok kids these days...

Happy Halloween everyone. (Will also put up some pictures to go with this post soon. To my blog Followers, sorry if this goes to your inbox twice b/c of the pics...)

If all else fails, try the Eye Strike

2009-10-24T19:32:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you must take things into your own hands, or at least try. Last night before heading out to meet some friends in *gasp* the Marina, I convinced who was supposed to be my original RARE instructor to provide me with a one-on-one session of Personal Safety skills today in the east bay or live with the conscience of sending me off to Asia unequipped and unprepared to defend myself if attacked. She buckled. And gave me a discount.

I invited my mom to take the course with me, and I must say, I do not regret paying the steep $100/hr fee. Erica, the instructor, first briefed us on the background of the organization and gave us an account of how she came to be an instructor. She was knowledgeable, straightforward, humorous, patient, and very accommodating. We first practiced setting boundaries (strong verbal and physical tactics used to fend off unwanted attention) and then went into role-playing using moves such as the eye strike, groin slap, thrust-kick, wrist snap-back, heel palm, among others. From the examples Erica brought forth throughout the workshop, it became obvious to me that she had experienced the full gamut of sexual assaults through the many women who have attended BA Impact classes and shared their incredibly moving stories with each other. Some of the experiences were so gruesome and cruel, I had to look over to my mom to make sure she wasn't going to have a heart attack and decide to stop me from leaving next week. In some ways, I think she has really changed over the last few years, and I am so proud of her. She is much more understanding, calm, and open-minded about her children facing challenges and confronting problems on our own. For that, I am really grateful.

Anyway, I do recommend this class to any female reading this and would encourage considering the Basic Essentials class I had originally signed up for that was canceled. That workshop is much longer and covers other tactics outside of the ones I learned today. I'm also considering the 24 hr workshop they cover over the course of a weekend when I come back from Asia. If anyone is interested in doing this with me during spring of next year, let me know.

Good thing I have friends who are brighter than I am.

2009-10-23T12:36:00.000-07:00

Last night, a handsome gentleman (to remain anonymous) hosted a farewell gathering for me at a cool North Beach tapas bar. It was the perfect chance for me to say goodbye to my San Francisco friends. Thank you to those who are reading this and showed up yesterday. I'm going to miss seeing you around town over the course of the next few months. I really appreciated you taking the time to come stop by and hang out for a bit. Hope you all had a good of time as I did. $2 Sangria happy hour. Enough said.

Anyway, at the end of the night, my friend Andrea asks me when I depart from SFO. I say "I have a 1 am flight out on Thursday." She rolls her eyes up and says, "Wait, 1 am Wednesday night or Thursday night." This really made me think. A little too hard. Crap. This entire time, I have it in my head that the flight is 1 am Thursday night. It's not. It's really 1 am Thursday morning, meaning I have lost an entire day....oookay, so I need to pick up the pace on packing up my room and backpack. It might also be a good idea to let Mom and Dad know to take me to the airport on Wednesday night, not Thursday. Done and done. And Andrea, if you are reading this now - You are a lifesaver. Thank you.

On another note, in a previous post, I mentioned the women's self-defense workshop I was signed up to attend tomorrow in San Jose. Last night, I received an email from the organization stating, "Unfortunately due to low enrollment and cancellations, we've had to cancel the RARE workshop this weekend. We've finalized arrangements for a new workshop on the date of Saturday, Dec 19th from 10am - 2:30pm at the River Community Church on 1st Street (same location)." Hmm. This isn't going to work out for me. Good thing I ordered the Triple Action Mace, and my friend Corso bought me a sweet knife for dicey situations. I also have my rape whistle. Maybe one more Capoiera class at the JCC this Sunday would be a good idea before taking off next Wednesday. If anyone has survivor skills they want to teach me over the next 5 days, please contact me immediately. Thank you.

Idle hands are the devil's workshop...

2009-10-15T22:43:00.000-07:00

There are now exactly two weeks left before I hop on a Boeing 747 to head to the first stop on my somewhat flexible itinerary, Bangkok. I almost regret booking the flight to be scheduled two day prior to Halloween, as my friends keep talking about their plans and costume ideas for this year's big event...even though the big event venue has yet to be determined. Halloween is always that holiday that creeps up on people. Too many times have I ended up scrounging for a costume last minute, paying way too much for plastic, durable for one night and one night only material that only covers up 30% of my body. As I have gotten older, I have decided that I no longer want to dress up as a sexy pirate, nor do I want to be something I bought at a pop-up store that makes more money on this one holiday than I probably have made all year. I guess I will be forced to come up with something more original when on my own in Bangkok those first two nights.

The title of this post reflects how I have been feeling over the last two weeks. My last day at work was Oct. 2nd, and since then, I have woken up around 8, 9, or 10 every morning. This is so different from the 6am time slot I have been programmed to wake up during every weekday for the last three years. With just a month to pack up my room (to prepare for my sub-leaser), research and secure accommodations for different pit stops in Thailand, read several travel books, purchase gear needed for the trip, get vaccinated for every mosquito-borne disease imaginable, among taking care of other logistics, I still feel uncomfortable with all the free time in between. I guess it's been a really long time since I have had a gap between working, going to school, and striving to complete something. I must admit it's been great not having any real responsibilities this month. I was out at dinner last night with my roommate and another friend, and it hit me that I wouldn't have to worry about going into work the next day. That meant I could have another glass of soju! I just felt a bit of freedom that's different from what you usually feel on a Friday or Saturday night. It was kind of nice. Not that I want to be unemployed or without a specific plan for a long time, but I guess I need to remind myself to enjoy this break for what it is and take advantage of the time I have to do the things I haven't been able to when I was a contributor to the corporate world.

I originally created this blog as a vehicle to share pictures, stories, traumas from traveling, but I find myself coming back to it more frequently to express my fears, anxieties, and excitement for what the future holds. What I'm saying is - I'm starting to understand why so many people blog.

Calling all couch surfers...

2009-10-07T13:58:00.000-07:00

This site (http://www.couchsurfing.org/) was recommended to me by my roommate's friend who was crashing on our couch for a few days this month. Just signed up for an account and am editing my profile. Seems like it might be worthwhile to try and get in touch with fellow travelers, as well as potential hosts in Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, and Indo before leaving SF. I do think it would be wise to be cautious and not rely on meeting strangers, but from what friends have told me about their experiences, it's a fairly safe community and holds some accountability. Let the surfing begin!

Some things can't be planned.

2009-09-21T21:43:00.000-07:00

Just registered for a Women's self defense workshop my friend Mieko suggested I take before leaving for SE Asia. (Thanks for sharing your tips/stories with me over pomegranate chicken and chicken celicia, Mieko! Much appreciated.) Taking this half-day course should provide some sense of reassurance for my mother, whom is now constantly calling me with new warnings aimed at single female backpackers. Don't worry, Mom! I am going to learn how to be prepared to kick some major a$$. Thanks to...

R.A.R.E. Workshop (Rape Awareness & Resistance Education)

which can be found here: http://www.impactbayarea.org/. History of this organization (told to me by Mieko and also taken from their website) -

In 1971, a woman from Palo Alto, with a black belt in karate, was raped and beaten. Following the assault, her peers began to question why a trained martial artist was not physically or emotionally prepared to handle an attack. Over the next fourteen years, an ever increasing group of individuals nationwide developed a new form of self-defense by researching police records, speaking to survivors and perpetrators, as well as experts in education, psychology, sociology, martial arts and physiology. Their efforts resulted in a unique form of self-defense that better prepares women for real-life attack situations. This method of self-defense came to be known as "model mugging".

In 1985, a group of Northern California instructors incorporated to form Bay Area Model Mugging, Inc. In 1989, instructors nationwide agreed to change the name of the style from "model mugging" to "Impact". Shortly afterward, our local organization became known as BAMM IMPACT Self-Defense. We became a nonprofit agency in 1995 to bring courses to women and girls who could not otherwise afford them. Finally, we changed our name in 2003 to Impact Bay Area, aligning ourselves with the worldwide Impact organization.

Seems like a very cool organization with a positive purpose. Something females, like myself, can get behind; especially for travellers who can find themselves in predicaments/situations unplanned for. Can't wait to see what this is all about...

Also looking more closely at which places I want to stay at while in Thailand. Right now, it's looking more and more like Bangkok, Pattaya, Ko Tao, Krabi, Ko Phi Phi, Ko Lanta, Railay, Ayuthaya, Chiang Mai, Mae Salong, and Mae Hon Son (depending on time, and of course, spur-of-the-moment change of plans that usually come with travelling in your mid-twenties). As for the other 3 countries I will be staying in - have a rough outline, but allowing for more flexibility, thus actual itinerary is really tbd. I just know I am planning to celebrate the break of the New Year in Bali. Hello surf lessons...

Ok, signing out for the night. Too much to do, too little time, but really just counting down!

Good night :)

Back from Mexico

2009-09-15T22:07:00.001-07:00

So, I've actually been back since Sept. 1st. Trying to catch up at work, preparing for 3.5 months in SE Asia, and starting Round 2 of studying for the GMAT has taken up most of my free time over the last few weeks. In addition to getting the most out of SF's typical indian summer by attempting to enjoy every minute of sunshine present, I'm trying to spend more time with friends and family. It's not easy.

Here are the pictures from the trip I took to Playa del Carmen and Mexico D.F. In short, I had an amazing time soaking up the sun, drinking Miami Vices and sailing with my mom, meeting the hospitable people in town squares, speaking (in Spanish) to strangers for hours, exploring the ruins and pyramids, and eating street food at every opportunity. I would like to return to D.F. someday. Until then, I'm going to have to settle for getting my carne asada taco fix from El Tonayense on 14th & Harrison.

Hello, my name is....

2009-08-24T09:27:00.000-07:00

Alas, I've started a blog. I'm not going to guarantee that you will be entertained, and I don't expect too much of an audience. I guess this is just a way for me to journal the next adventures that lay ahead and update friends and family while I'm travelling.

Tonight, I will be packing for a weeklong trip to the Mayan Riviera and Mexico D.F. Made a short list of what to bring, need to do some laundry, and going to anticipate a lot of lounging next to clear blue water over the next three days before frequenting numerous street taco stations in the hectic metropolis of Mexico city. Really looking forward to getting away for a bit...I love San Fran and all, but it can make you a little claustrophobic at times. (It especially doesn't help when you leave your apartment in the middle of August and a 35 mph gust of wind hits you full force ruining your just blow-dried hair.)

Will post and upload some visuals once I'm there...