February 29, 2008

Koh Tao (THAILAND)

Worshipping the Sun, and Touring the Island on a Motorbike

Today was the first full day for treating my bites, so I was still taking it easy and stayed away from any diving. Although the saltwater might do me a world of good - drying out my skin so the bites will heal quicker - I don't feel like diving with all the itchiness and general discomfort. Instead, I spent the day tanning along the beach, making up for six months spent in Tokyo's winter. Of course, every time it got hot I breached the crystal waters, where I can walk out 50 meters before the water level reaches my knees. Plus, there are plenty of great restaurants and cafes lining the beach, so banana lassis, ice-cold Chang beer, and Thai curries where never hard to find.

I am also growing accustomed to driving a motorbike, and spent a few hours today circumnavigating the island, or at least as much of it as I could safely manage. In reality, the only semi-paved road exists between Mae Head (where the pier is located) and Sairee Beach (the closest town to where I am staying), so it has been a real crash course - nothing too serious has gone wrong, yet.

Most of the roads are no more than pock-marked dirt paths, the inevitable result of heavy rains and poor drainage, and although the motor-bike is manual - Koh Tao is mountainous and there are many steep climbs - it isn't actually all that difficult to shift gears.

I have a couple of American friends who are studying with me in Tokyo, Neil (California) and David (Minnesota), who will be arriving tomorrow, so the pace of life should pick up shortly.

February 28, 2008

Koh Tao (THAILAND)

Arriving on Koh Tao, Ultra-Chilled Sairee View, and Seeing a Doctor

One way or another, alighting from a train at 3:25 am in a foreign country is always going to be interesting. In my case, I was the only person getting off at Chumphon station in the dead of night, and I was doing so with all my possessions strapped to my back. As far as what came next, well, the only real option was to follow the concrete walkway leading from my train car, the last on the train, to the central waiting area where a few lights still attracted mosquitoes and lost travelers alike.

I came across a woman and her son who were running some sort of late-night soup stall, but with the train only providing a few minutes' worth of sales opportunities - and sleepy, difficult to capitalize on opportunities at that - I had to wait my turn in line before requesting help. The young boy was busy running up and down the train cars in an attempt to find customers, while his mother filled cups with the spicy Thai broth boiling in her pot. When the train chugged onward, I bought a few cups of left-over soup for 15 baht each, and explained I wanted to buy a ferry ticket to the island of Koh Tao. The woman had already guessed as much, pulling out her cell phone to call a travel agent who arrived 30 minutes later. She sold me a 450 baht catamaran ticket with a 7:00 am departure, and even drove me to a guesthouse where I was able to shower and freshen up while I waited.

The high-speed boat took two hours to reach Mae Head on Koh Tao, but I was too tired to focus on anything except the most comfortable sitting position so I could get some more sleep. At the docks, I was approached by a dozen touts hoping to lure me into a diving package, but my loyalty already lies elsewhere: with the ever-affable New Way Diving on Sairee Beach.

I caught a lift to the shop, and began the painful process of finding a bungalow. Unfortunately, I arrived on the island two days after a full moon party on Koh Phangang, which means all the drunk, drugged-out party-goers were now congregating on the small diving Mecca of Koh Tao to recover and become dive-certified. The bottom line is that there were people walking around with their backpacks on, and no place to check into: not a good situation.

Luckily, I had Ms. Jai, the kind Thai woman who runs New Way Diving, on my side. She called around, and after much searching, hooked me up with a room at Sairee View, which overlooks Sairee town from a mountain at the Northern end of the beach. After some friendly bargaining with the owner, a man who was wearing a black police t-shirt with handcuffs strapped to his belt-loops (the island's Chief of Police is his brother), the bungalow price came down from 600 baht to only 350 baht - a real steal at under $10USD/night. Of course, I owed him a large bottle of Chang beer later.

Shown to the right is the view from my front porch.

Next on my agenda was renting a motor-bike for my stay so I could reach the bungalow and traverse the island. I ended up with a manual orange scooter for 110 baht/day ($3USD), making to sure to select one that already had plenty of scratches so that my upcoming falls wouldn't be as obvious. So far, I was doing brilliantly, but I was too tired to savor the moment, and spent the remainder of the afternoon in my bungalow, catching up on several night's worth of lost sleep.

One last thing: I visited a doctor on the island today to have my bed-bug bites checked out. After a couple of shots, two separate baggies of pink & white pills, and a 1100 baht bill, I should finally start seeing some improvement in the next couple of days. One of the nurses said she stayed in Malaysia once and had bites even worse than mine, so other than the itching and leper-like look, there isn't anything to worry about.

February 27, 2008

(THAILAND)

Goodbye Malaysia, Thailand is Always Smiling

Today was one of those uneventful days that are so often overlooked when reflecting on the joys of traveling. Not only am I hamstrung by a vicious case of bed bites - a picture of my left arm can be found here (caution: it is not the most pleasant thing to look at) - but when traveling by land the distances covered become a lot more real. The landscape passes by not from 30,000 feet, as in an airplane, but right in front of your eyes, and the smells and sounds accompanying the changing environment are far more authentic than an announcement saying, "We will arrive in Thailand at so-and-so a time, no please lie back and enjoy your in-flight movie; a hot meal will be served shortly."

Perhaps I try too hard to maintain a purist traveling mentality - the ultimate purpose being the act of traveling itself, not necessarily arriving at a given destination - but whatever the case, there is a perfectly valid reason airplanes, cruise liners, and high-speed trains were invented: convenience. So, lest an important fact is lost in all this aimless writing, traveling overland is almost always decidedly inconvenient; 99% of my worries involve the how part of traveling, and with no tour agents to lay out my travel options in a well-decorated pamphlet I once more found myself winging it for the day...

I checked out of my hostel a little after 10:00 am, and after some waiting around at the Kota Bharu bus station I eventually hopped aboard bus 29, which includes the Malaysia-Thailand border crossing on its route. It was a relatively easy 45 minute ride, costing only a few ringgit, but once I got off the bus I had some walking to do. After being stamped out of Malaysia, I crossed a 100m bridge that spans a cesspool of grimy water - hardly endearing scenery separating one of the poorest states of Malaysia from one of the poorest states in Thailand. Fortunately, traveling is a breeze in Thailand, and I was immediately granted a 30-day tourist visa at the Thai border. From the Thai visa office, I hopped on the back of a motorbike for 20 baht and was taken to the Sungai Kolok train station, where I bought a standard-class ticket for the 14:30 Surat Thani departure.

The next couple of hours were spent sitting around at a largely deserted train station. The only things to look at were the starved dogs trying to stay alive in the shade of my shadow and the military personal who were wielding M16 assault rifles for fear of further Muslim-Buddhist bloodshed. Sadly, life did not become any more captivating once I boarded the train, although my economy class ticket did guarantee me a front row view of the real Thai people - not just those who survive on the tourism trade in places like the notorious Khao San Road. I was seated next to a young Muslim man fully clad in traditional attire, but he did not speak any English or Thai. Instead, he sat quietly to my right, reading the Quran while the sun was out, praying to Allah from his seat at 5 pm, and taking a smoking break every hour or so. It was culturally enlightening.

As the train rolled slowly onward I decided my 23:35 arrival in Surat Thani would be an inconvenient time to find accommodation or onward transport, so I enlisted the help of several Thais seated in front of me. They didn't even speak broken English, but understood city names, so after much laughing and re-structuring of sentences ("simplifying things") the general consensus was I could alight from the train at Chumphon Station some time between 2:00-4:00 am. (I transferred at Chumphon back in September 2007, so I was familiar with the ferry schedules, and decided this was my best bet.) Obviously, sleep was difficult to come by in the sweaty train car, and I didn't want to doze off for too long and risk missing my stop.

Sure enough, at 3:25 am several Thai hands were shaking me to life, saying "Chumphon!" It was my stop, so off I went after a 12 hour train-ride through southern Thailand.

February 26, 2008

Kota Bharu (MALAYSIA)

Recovering in Kota Bharu and Chinese Hawker Centers

I caught a  7:30 am boat off the island of Kecil in the Perhentians, and after another bumpy 45 minute ride I reached the shores of peninsular Malaysia. Along with a French couple I met at the docks, we chartered a taxi for 40 ringgit ($12USD) to the capital of Kelantan, Kota Bharu. I was in dire need of a shower - my bed bug bites were flaring up again - so I found my way to a small guesthouse called the Bunga Raya Backpacker's Lodge, located near the bus station. The owner was an elderly Muslim man who spent time studying English in the United States, and he kindly let me use the shower free of charge. Afterward, I sat down on the couch for a lengthy chat - he was curious about the upcoming presidential elections and I was curious about his brother's role with Petronas, Malaysia's massive oil company.

When lunch-time rolled around, I excused myself - jotting down directions to a hawker center he recommended - and set off for a bite to eat. However, after five minutes of walking I spotted a Pizza Hut on a corner and bought the owner a take-out, personal-sized pepperoni pizza for all his kind generosity. After bringing the pizza back to him (sending off emails while the pizza was cooking), I continued onward in search of food, albeit feeling slightly better about myself as the pizza clearly made his day.

In the end, I decided it was too hot for outdoor hawker food, so instead I stopped at a Cantonese-styled Chinese restaurant where no one spoke any English. Initially, the waitresses were tensed up, thinking "What are we going to do about this foreigner when the entire menu is in Chinese characters?!", but after a short conversation in Mandarin they were more than happy to help me - as were all the other guests in the restaurant. When the waitress recommended a Sweet-and-Sour Chicken Dish that "foreigners always love," I responded that "not all people with white skin are foreign to China," and heard chuckles from across the room. My Mandarin is littered with grammatical errors and misused words, but in informal situations it serves me just fine!

After lunch, I set off on a short walking tour of Kota Bharu, buying a couple three ringgit ($1USD) VCD movies in the process: Rambo 4 (Sylvester Stallone) and American Gangster (Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe.) I later fell asleep watching these on my laptop, but only after re-lathering myself in Tiger Balm to ease the itching. If it weren't for the damned bites I would be having a lot better time on my travels, but this is the kind of thing I must put up with when I choose to stay in cheap hostels.

All in all, my current room, consisting of a single bed and a broken fan, is a far-cry from the 5-star luxuries I enjoyed at the Four Seasons in Singapore only a few days ago. Even so, I don't think the costly rooms were justifiable, as the pictures to either side should demonstrate. In the picture to the left, you can see the custom-made stickers to indicate a fresh roll of toilet paper, while the picture to the right is equally ridiculous: someone actually has to lean down and carefully fold the toilet paper in each hotel room on a daily basis. It is a bathroom for crying out loud, who needs stickers and pleasantly folded toilet paper?

At 9:00 pm I headed out for some hawker food that was recommended to me earlier in the day. I was the only foreigner by a country mile, but once again speaking Chinese immediately ingratiated me with the stall owners. This may have been a ploy on their part as I ended up ordering three separate meals: spicy mee hoon, ban mian noodles, and pork with flat noodles and vegetables (shown to the left.) The food was tasty, but it is the atmosphere of hawker centers that has made me a life-long fan.

My only complaint of Malaysia (other than the need to eradicate bed bugs) is that something really needs to be done about the steep liquor tax as I was forced to pay 13 ringgit for one bottle of Tiger beer!

February 25, 2008

Perhentian Islands (MALAYSIA)

Beach Football and a Hellish Nightmare: Bed Bugs

I woke up at 5:00 am this morning itching furiously at my forearm. As I rolled out of bed to see what was wrong, I a ray of light caught my arm and I saw dozens of small bites. I was sleeping in only boxers for the night, and little did I know my bed was infested with nasty mites, better known as bed bugs. Looking up and down my body I saw hundreds of small, millimeter size red dots, marking the places I was bitten - even without looking I could feel the itching everywhere. Immediately, I took a 30 minute frigid-cold shower to ease the pain - refusing to scratch any more - and spent the rest of the morning in severe pain.

I joined the American girl from North Carolina, Jessie, for breakfast at a hostel overlooking the beach, propping myself again the railing to keep from upsetting the bites. The view from up here was amazing, and slightly made up for what I was enduring.

We ended up hanging out here for a few hours, and were joined by an English girl, Shanlee, waiting tables for her room & board and a Malaysian handyman, Halip, who proved to be the entertainment for the day. In his 52 years on this planet, he has picked fruit in Australia, visited underwater topless bars in New Zealand, been irretrievably lost in the London Underground, and stayed with gay friends in Bristol - a city he says to stay clear of!

Right when the sun was at its very hottest, Shanlee, Jessie, and I headed down to the beach to read and take part in some sun-worshipping. I could only stand the heat for an hour before retiring to Moon Light Bar for some spicy fried rice. I struck up a conversation with a Swedish couple, Salah and Sanna, who had a football between them, and we arranged to play a match on the beach at 5:00 pm.

Although it was only three of us at the start, by the time we started setting up goals our group had grown to a dozen people, and by the time the match started we closed the game at 20 people. Seemingly everyone under the age of 30 were out there playing with us. It was a great deal of fun - beach sports always are - and I forgot all about my itchy bites. Scoring goals, loads and loads of goals, always does that!

For dinner, I met up with Salah, Sanna, Jessie, an Australian (Jamie from the University of Melbourne) and an Englishman (Nick from Manchester.) I loaded my plate of fried noodles with diced chilies from the back - greatly impressing locals when I asked for my second helping - and recognized that my New Year's Resolution to give up spicy foods is impossible. Our late dinner turned into a late night of drinking as we decided to sample the local alcohol, called Monkey Juice. The closest thing I can compare it to is rum, and it sold for only 25 ringgit ($7USD) for a small bottle - whereas a can of beer is 10 ringgit ($3USD).

We eventually switched to a small shack, mysteriously known as Buffalo Bar, where we met six or so other people hanging out. However, I was catching the 7:30 am ferry, so at 3:00 am I called it a night and said goodbye to everyone.

Back in the hut, I laid my sarong, a bamboo beach spread, and a new sheet over the bed, hoping, hell praying, that there would be no more bites through the night.

February 24, 2008

Perhentian's Kecil Island (MALAYSIA)

Arriving on the Perhentian Islands: Snorkeling with Sharks, Turtles, and Barracuda

Last night, I boarded an over-night bus from the southernmost city in Malaysia, Johor Bahru, en route to the northernmost city in the country, Kota Bharu. I didn't actually make it all the way to KB (many cities are abbreviated as acronyms), alighting instead 30 kilometers south so I could catch a small boat to the Perhentian Islands. Located off the northeastern coast of Malaysia, the islands are a part of Southeast Asian backpacking folklore for the laid-back atmosphere and amazing underwater opportunities. I headed for the smaller and less-developed of the two islands, Kecil, and I could hardly wait.

As for the picture to the left, well, someone must have really wanted their own urinal!

I arrived at the docks at 5:00 am, so I killed two hours chatting with a friendly Swiss couple while waiting for the boat to depart. I swear, I am getting a better education from my travels than through all the pricey textbooks, expensive tutorials, and world-renowned professors. (It probably has something to do with the subject matter, in fairness.)

I boarded a 15 foot skiff for the 45 minute ride to the island, and with choppy end-of-monsoon-season waters, the eight people and I on the boat all feared we would capsize - why else would we willingly don life jackets?! Regardless, the slamming of the waves and jostling maneuvers on the wave crests made for an exciting start to the day, as did the beautiful sunrise over the islands.

After arriving, I followed a jungle trail across the island to "Long Beach," which friends have told me is one of the most chilled out places in Southeast Asia - and they were not lying! It is a one kilometer stretch of underdeveloped beach - a prized commodity these days - with at most 60 people staying here. I am traveling without guide books, which thus far has worked to my advantage, and so on the recommendation of three people leaving the island I checked into Lemon Grass Hostel on the far end of the beach. Mr Sim took care of me, and settled me into a small bungalow with a beach view for only 12rm/night (roughly $3USD.) It is a far cry from the glitz and glamour of the Four Seasons, but then again the Four Seasons didn't have a view like the one to the right.

Since it was only 8:30 am by the time I finished checking in and showering, I decided to try and make use of the day by signing up for a 10:30 am snorkeling expedition. I was introduced to the opportunity by a Dutch woman who joined me for breakfast at one of the three restaurants that line the beach, and the only way to tell the restaurants apart is from the coloring of the chairs (red, yellow, and white.)

Joining us on the boat was an elderly couple from the southern coast of France, a woman from Sardinia, and the Malaysian boatman who was leading the group. We started off in six-ten meter water with fresh coral and a variety of fish, and as this was my first time snorkeling I spent most of my time getting a feel for the process. By the end of the 30 minute swim I had mastered diving down to the bottom for half-minute stretches, and was eager for more!

Our next stop was at a small lighthouse (more of a permanent buoy), located 200 meters off Coral Bay. I spotted a school of two foot long barracuda at the edge of the reef, and was able to get within one meter before I stopped pushing my luck. Another interesting part of this swim was when the Malaysian boatman showed me a swim-through cave eight meters under water. After weighing my fear of moray eels that are always lurking in dark areas like this, I decided to bite the bullet, hold my breath, and go for it. It probably only took 20 or 30 seconds to dive down, swim through the cave, and come back up, but in my mind it was an eternity. Nevertheless, I was hooked, and tried it a few more times - cutting my heel on coral when I spotted an Angel Fish hiding in a small cranny.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline of snorkeling that got the better of me, but I decided to dive off the 10 meter lighthouse before we headed off to the next destination. After checking the depth of the water, I tossed my snorkeling gear in the boat, and to the cheers of everyone I climbed 10 meters to the top of the cement lighthouse. There was no going back now, so I took half a dozen deep breaths to collect myself, and then I completed a perfect dive into the water! All I really remember was the split-second decision to JUMP, the crash from breaking the water, and subsequently climbing back into the boat - albeit with a pumping heart and a slightly sore head (the height was high!)

The last stop before breaking for lunch was in Turtle Bay, which as the name suggests, is home to dozens of saltwater turtles. The boatman trolled around searching for the dark ovals in the water, and each time he spotted one we would jump off the boat to follow the turtles through the water. It was easy to get lost during the process because we were spread out over a 100 meter wide area chasing turtles of our own, but since there was only one other boat out our boatman always found us. While it may sound silly, it really is amazing to touch and swim with turtles weighing hundreds of pounds, and measuring up to one meter in diameter.

We ate lunch at the fisherman's village, but my appetite for the Malaysian noodles was quickly suppressed when a group of "rasta goats" (goats with hair done up in Rastafarian dreadlocks) came by for a close inspection. I didn't mind them nudging my back, but what really upset my stomach was the retching sounds they made - they were reminiscent of someone vomiting.

By the end of lunch, the sun was out in full force, so I put my t-shirt back on for the afternoon dives. Up next: Shark Point. The boatman said he spotted a two meter Tiger Shark two days before, but whether he was pulling my leg or telling the truth hardly mattered: every kind of shark terrifies me when there is no glass between us. I decided the bleeding cut on my heel was not worth worrying about, but I still decided not to be the first in the water for this particular swim. Once I was in, it only took 20 seconds before I spotted the first reef shark - only one meter in length - swimming along the ocean floor. My exuberance got the better of me, and off I went trying to keep up with it. All in all, I spotted eight sharks (mostly small reef sharks), and one other one that very well might have measured two meters. The bigger shark was swimming near the surface, and although the boatman and I both saw it, neither one of us got a good enough view to identify it.

I stayed in the boat for the last swim of the day as it was already 3:30 pm and I had seen all I wanted to see (sharks, barracuda, and turtles) - plus I was tired after a sleepless night on the bus and a full day of snorkeling. When we arrived back at the hostel in the early evening I took a quick cat nap before heading down to the red-chaired cafe along the water. I joined a table with two Americans (Joel from New Hampshire and Jessie from North Carolina), a German (Markus from Munich), a Swiss couple (both from Zurich), and an Australian (John from Tasmania.) The conversations were all over the place, so I stuck to the end of the table that focused on non-political issues, unlike John and Joel who seemed intent on saving the world. Although beer was 10rm/can, I decided it was worth having with my barbeque chicken dinner, and afterward a few of us headed to a bar up the beach called Moon Light Bar. We hung out here until the early hours of the morning, eventually calling it a night and returning to my tiny bungalow.

All in all, a great first day in the Perhentians, and a killer start to another backpacking trip!

February 23, 2008

(MALAYSIA)

Quick Update: I crossed into Malaysia

I just crossed the border from Singapore, and am now waiting around at the dodgy Larkin bus terminal 15 kilometers north of Johor Bahru, Malaysia. A friendly Malaysian football supporter let me connect to his 56k connection in his small cell-phone shop, so I was able to post this quick update.

In 30 minutes I will board an over-night bus to the Perhentian Islands (tiny Kecil, to be specific) in northeastern Malaysia, near the Thailand border. More to come soon, hopefully!

In the mean time, COME ON YOU GUNNERS! Tonight there is a chance to go eight points clear at the top of the Barclays Premier League, even if it is only short-lived. (I am sorely disappointed I will miss the game, my first for the season thus far!)

February 23, 2008

(SINGAPORE)

Final Day in Singapore: Chinatown Hawker Food

I took the opportunity to sleep in this morning, write a few posts for this webpage, and catch up on emails using the wireless connection. So, it wasn't until noon when I left Hui Shi's house in search of food. I had to catch a 6:00 pm Malaysia-bound bus near Lavender Station, and with my large backpack we decided it would be easiest to stay downtown for the afternoon. My choice for food was obviously Chinatown, and although it took significant arm-wrestling to convince Hui Shi, she finally relented. There is a stigma in Singapore that this is one of the more touristy hawker centers, but in fact I find Lau Pa Sat, Maxwell Road, and Adam Road to be far worse.

I sat Hui Shi down at one of the garishly orange plastic tables in the middle of the indoor-outdoor courtyard, and with a loud "Oyy!" (I am kidding, this is very disrespectful), called over a vendor selling Singapore's "internationally recognized Tiger beer." He saw that I was an angmoh and tried to charge me $6SGD for a large bottle, but I corrected him on the price in Mandarin and he quickly relented for $5SGD. My confidence was soaring. Afterward, it was easy to pick out my regular favorites from the stalls, but I stayed away from the soups shown to the left. I have been-there done-that with dishes like Fresh Intestine Congee, Pig's Organ Congee, and Preserved Egg Pig's Liver Congee. Out of respect, all I will say is that there is a reason 95% of the world chooses not to eat this stuff.

My Singaporean dignity was greatly inflated several times while we ate. Firstly, Hui Shi was visibly shocked at the food I brought to the table - Singaporeans pride themselves on always knowing where to find the best food, and she couldn't believe a foreigner knew better than her. Secondly, a couple of uncles commented on how well I use my chopsticks, which is hardly a new for me considering I have literally used them thousands of times over the past two years. Lastly, I can drink Tiger beer with the best of them, and no self-respecting guy leaves a hawker center without his fair share of empty bottles left behind. (The truth is that I will enter Malaysian tonight, and as the country is primarily Malay, or Muslim, I wanted to drink what I could before leaving.)

The last order of business for the day was meeting another friend, LiXuan, who studied in my Fluid Dynamics course and is currently working for Motorola. She was waiting for us at Lavender station, and after giving me a going away present of Hello Panda packets, she led me to a busy shop selling Chinese desserts. To be perfectly honest, as much as I love Asian food, I have never really taken to the variety of desserts. The one dish I can partially tolerate is a kind of sesame ice cream (although it is closer to curdled milk than ice cream and it is often served warm), so this is what I ordered. To give you an idea of what the other options are like, LiXuan ordered the almond version of my dish, while Hui Shi opted for soft mushrooms with dried prawns on top. Egh!

I walked to the bus station shortly after dessert, getting a chance to catch up with Hui Shi's boyfriend Derick en route, and by 6:30 pm I was passing through Singaporean immigrations at the northern end of the island. With seven Singaporean entrance stamps in my passport, it is fair to say I know my way around the constantly hot and humid, always clean and manageable, and ever-growing (thanks to land reclamation, not population growth) island just above the equator.

February 22, 2008

(SINGAPORE)

Asian Civilizations Museum and Visiting Hui Shi's New House

I woke up at 6:00 am this morning so I could share a goodbye coffee at the Four Seasons breakfast area before my father left. Neither one of us felt like eating this early in the morning - he was probably still recovering from the spicy scare last night - so after he caught a taxi to Changgi Airport (where a third terminal was recently finished) I made use of the amazing gym one last time before checking out of the hotel.

Rather than immediately setting off on my next backpacking trip, I decided to hang around Singapore one extra day so I could see Hui Shi and her family at their new house. Hui Shi is an old friend I met while studying in Hong Kong, and after graduating from the prestigious National University of Singapore (NUS) last May with a bachelor's degree in Mathematics, or "maths," as British-English speakers say, she started working as a secondary school mathematics teacher. Anyway, she wouldn't get home from work until 7:00 pm, so I had a day free for touring. I left my bags in storage at the front desk of the hotel and visited the acclaimed Asian Civilizations Museum, which is located downtown near the Quays.

Rather than tackling the massive museum on my own, I decided to hang around for one of the daily tours, which began at 3:00 pm. The group was led by an American woman, Debra, who came to Singapore with her husband several years ago for business reasons. She spent seven months training to be a guide at this museum, and her hard work was plain to see: she was able to answer 90% of my questions on a variety of subjects from Buddhism to Indian history to the Silk Roads. There were no pictures allowed inside the museum, so it is pointless to talk about everything I saw, but suffice to say the museum houses the most impressive collection of Asian artifacts in the world, full-stop.

What I will do is recount some of the specific questions I had and other interesting facts because they filled a lot of gaps in my understanding. In fact, I spent an extra 45 minutes in a one-on-one discussion with Debra after the 1.5 hour tour was over because there were so many things I have seen and learned about in my travels. Truthfully, if I had toured this museum two years ago I would have found it monotonous and repetitive - a Buddha is a Buddha is a Buddha - but in fact I noticed all the subtleties, and more importantly I understood the significance behind them. For anyone out there wondering whether there is anything to be gained from traveling, other than the idea of a much-needed vacation, then the unequivocal answer is: Yes, there is LOADS to learn, so long as you stick to cultures/regions that you don't already know about.

Why did Buddhism spread so far East while Hinduism stayed primarily in Southern Asia (India, Sri Lanka, and Nepal)?

There are two main reasons: (1) Buddhism is a way of life, whereas Hinduism is "just another religion" (I don't mean that in a derogatory manner), so countries with more animalistic/pagan backgrounds such as China, Japan, South Korea, and Thailand proved more fertile for Buddhist teachings. (2) The famous Silk Roads, which cut across the Gobi Desert and over the Himalayas into Central Asia (a 'Stan here and a 'Stan there), were not only a means of trading goods, but also trading ideas, and the Chinese are largely attributed with bringing Buddhism eastward along this route.

Indonesia has more people of the Islamic faith than any nation in the world.

There are six or seven Buddha "poses," with each representing something different (heralding peace, resting Buddha, etc.)

Hinduism is believed to be the oldest, large-scale religion on the planet, with Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam coming later (in that order.) Hinduism began in India, and it is most widely recognized as being the "religion with many gods," although there are only a few primary ones (Shiva, Vishnu, etc) and a collection of "lesser" bodhisattvas. Buddhism began with the death of its "founder," Siddhartha, around 450 B.C.E. in Northern India (near modern Nepal), and it was known for being a uni-sex religion focused on achieving enlightenment through giving up earthly desires.

I can go on and on with this stuff, but doing so will become a lengthy post on religion, and I neither know where to start nor where to end). Further, religious history is something most people didn't want to read about in school, so I doubt anyone wants to read my non-scholarly descriptions now. The lesson I hope to impart is that there is so much more to the world than meets the eye, and while everyone remembers a few facts garnered here and there, the best way to start putting the puzzle pieces together is to visit ground zero and start working your way back through scholarly knowledge (museums, books, videos, discussions, and so on). Facts, dates, and even ideas are of little use unless one possesses a context in which to associate them.

Enough preaching from the pulpit: most people understand everything I wrote, but being able to follow through on such a quest for understanding is not as easy as I make it out to be.

After the Asian Civilizations Museum, I headed back to Orchard Road so I could collect my belongings and freshen up at the Four Seasons spa. I relaxed in the sauna, took my time in the high-powered shower, and stuffed a few extra toiletries in my rucksack for use on my backpacking trip. Then, I rode the MRT to the Jurong East Interchange where I hopped on the North-South Line to Hui Shi's station. I didn't have a mobile phone or her number, so I couldn't have her pick me up from the MRT station. Instead, I found a local bus, alighting within two kilometers of her house, and with the help of four separate Singaporeans I fought my way through the rain to her front door.

All of Hui Shi's family was sitting around the table waiting for my arrival - I was 45 minutes late - and her mom prepared a delicious Chinese feast for me. Thankfully, I had the common sense to buy her father a nice bottle of WuLiangYe rice wine, which he duly added to his impressive collection, but only after pouring me a glass of the famous MaoTai Chinese rice wine in return. I almost mistook the MaoTai for water and would have drank a huge gulp were it not for the Brandy glass it was in. I spent the rest of the night watching friends play Mah Jong (I know better than to actually gamble with Chinese over this game), helping Hui Shi bake my chocolate going-away cake (which turned out well after she cut an inch of burned crust from the top), and catching up with her older brother who is well-known in the Singaporean clubbing and nightlife scene. The house itself was the nicest I have seen in Singapore: three spacious floors with an open roof, five bedrooms, and numerous bathrooms. It goes without saying that it feels great being so warmly welcomed into what has become one of my "homes away from home."

Thanks again Hui Shi.

February 21, 2008

(SINGAPORE)

My Father's Last Day in Singapore: Chinatown Hawker Food

Today was the last day to show my father around Asia, wrapping up a two week trip through three of Asia's showcase cities: Tokyo, Hong Kong, and Singapore. His business trip was highly successful, from what I understand of it, but more importantly it was a great chance for he and I to spend some "quality time" together. At the risk of sounding sentimental, the older one becomes the fewer chances there are to spend actual one-on-one time with one's parents, and the 10 days or so when it was only he and I was as good a bonding experience as anything I can imagine. It really was fortunate that his trip coincided with my Winter holiday, and that I have lived in each of the cities we visited made it easy to find convenient things to do.

Enough of the sappy emotions - now we can go back to the normal routine of talking sports, drinking Bud Lite together when the opportunities arise, competing in everything from foosball to driving to the hardware store, and talking every couple of weeks from across the world.

The final item on the agenda for his Asian trip was a visit to a Singaporean hawker center: an absolute must for anyone looking beyond the glamour of extravagant shopping malls or the benefits of an artificially created country. Since today was the last day for celebrating the Chinese New Year, I decided Chinatown would be the best place to visit, and we could choose between Maxwell Road and Chinatown itself for hawker food. As a side note, although this is the year of the rat, in the Chinese language there is no prior distinction between a rat and a mouse, so in reality this can be seen as either the year of the rat or the mouse. The rat is commonly chosen by Asians because it is seen as a more prosperous animal - obviously in stark contrast to western sentiment.

Chinatown is located in the heart of Singapore on the Northeast Line, and immediately after leaving the station one is surrounded by orderly shops selling brightly colored tourist items: "hand-painted" fans, humorous t-shirts declaring that "Singapore is a FINE City," and cheaply made craftworks imported from sweatshops in China. There were also dozens of Chinese herbal medicine shops, but I would be surprised if any of them have ever sold something to a non-Chinese person - despite the curious tourists who inevitably have a look at the various mushrooms, roots, and antlers on display.

It was only 6:00 pm when we reached Maxwell Road, so many of the stalls were not yet open, and the only people sitting down at the tables were the already-drunk "uncles" who have been loitering around since the early afternoon. In the end, I decided the hawker center at Chinatown has a better selection of food, and a far more authentic feel about it. Although Chinatown is an MRT stop, and it attracts foreign tourists by name alone, the reality is that there are enough locals who come here to far outnumber the spattering of angmoh ordering food.

While my father grabbed a table underneath one of the revolving fans at the outdoor food center, I ordered him a large Tiger beer and set out to find the "Singaporean Classics" amid the maze of hawker stalls (there are over 100): char kway teow (a plate of gelatinous fried noodles with pork), fried oysters with chili sauce, Shanghai steamed dumplings, and Hainan chicken rice. While eating, we went through a few more bottles of beer while we "blended in" with the night crowd on another sweaty night in Singapore. The most memorable part of the meal was the hot sauce on the Hainan chicken that nearly gave my father a heart-attack: his blood pressure went through the roof, and despite a lengthy trip to the bathroom he continued sweating for the rest of the evening. Once more, I bit my tongue, and said something like, "Yes, you are right, this is spicy!" but in reality, he will need more time in Asia.

February 20, 2008

(SINGAPORE)

Sleeping in the NTU Common Room for Champions League Action

Rather than waking up at 3:45 am to watch the Arsenal vs. AC Milan match alone in my hotel room, I decided to organize a small party in the NTU common room where I once spent countless hours watching Arsenal matches. Maybe I was being nostalgic, or maybe I just wanted to party: there was Tiger beer, Absolut Vodka, plus countless munchies and mixers. By the time the game rolled around there were 20 people crammed in the small room, but there was only 15 minutes to catch up with everyone because once the match started we all became dead-serious.

Unfortunately, the score line did not turn out as I had hoped: Arsenal drew 0-0 with title-holders AC Milan in a thrilling encounter at the Emirates Stadium in London. In truth, Arsenal deserved to take a 1-0 advantage away from the game - Adebayor even smacked a header against the crossbar, with the goalie beaten, in the final minute of the game - but it will all come down to the second leg at Milan's imposing San Siro Stadium. The positives for the night are how well the team played, dominating AC Milan for stretches of time, and the fact that Milan were not able to score a crucial away goal, which counts more than an home goal. So, with either a 1-0 or 1-1 draw in Milan, Arsenal will go through to the semi-finals. The second leg will be on March 5th.

Oh, and one last thing: I am part of a select minority of people in the world who would willingly give up the plush luxuries of a 5-star hotel for the dank miseries of a university common room couch just so I could watch a sporting event with friends.

February 20, 2008

(THE UNITED STATES)

Gun Control and School Shootings

For anyone who may not have heard, recently there was another school shooting in the United States. In the two years since I left America, there have been half a dozen such instances, and I struggle to understand why so little has been done to prevent reoccurrences. So, this morning I got into a debate with my father over the subject, and since I have a tendency to get carried away in such circumstances, I decided to type my thoughts rather than spit them out in a hostile manner.

The long and short of my argument for greater gun control is that while the country was certainly founded on the rights of the individual - and the need to protect those rights, by force or otherwise, from a government or foreign power that infringes upon them - in the modern age the very weapons meant for  protection (guns) are becoming the tools used to instill fear, carry out murder, and inflict destructive blows to an otherwise prosperous element of society (schools). While all of this may sound overly simplified, and indeed it may be, the fact remains that school violence has needlessly led to the slaughter of too many of America's future bright minds. The recurrence of such events has led many foreigners (who have the benefit of objectivity) to view the United States as an unsafe place, and in fact they have a very valid point: there are more gun-inflicted homicides in the United States than anywhere else in the world, which is absurd considering the high level of development and education of the populace. However, more importantly in the minds of many Americans is that this debate isn't about protecting our national pride, nor is it about making America seem like the greatest society on earth, but rather something more fundamental: it is about protecting the individual's basic right to freely pursue happiness.

With repeated school shootings cutting down ambitious, intelligent students who are working toward improving the world, the right to bear arms is no longer serving its original purpose of protecting the individual for the greater good of the society. Instead, the right to bear arms is empowering those destructive few from whom guns were originally intended to protect us. The question is what to do about this problem, and with groups like the NRA more concerned about the means (owning a gun as an American right) than the end result (guns have become the most serious detriment to both individual and societal peace), it is small wonder that nothing has been done about this problem.

What do I think should be done? Well, as my father pointed out: I am clearly not willing to invest enough of my time toward fixing the problem, so I should pick my battles wisely and stay out of the ones I won't see through until the end. It is fair advice, especially considering how worked up I can get over such things, but something within me won't give up the fight so easily: just because I cannot change the gun problem on my own does not mean I will not voice my opinions and engage those who think differently. After all, my goal is not to prove my ideas right, but rather to work out a solution to the problem. And these shootings won't go away by protecting a broken status quo, nor will they be changed by keeping quiet about it.

I have a tremendous amount of faith in the American people for they have proven time and time again their ability to free themselves from the chains of tradition and to adapt to the changing world. This is something American politicians have frequently asked of other societies - to forget what their religion, customs, or traditional laws call for if it conflicts with a harmonious global society - but perhaps other societies are not the only ones guilty of adhering to outdated, century old practices. It is a near-sighted aim to lead the world by force; the greatest impetus for change is always to lead by example.

February 19, 2008

(SINGAPORE)

Luxuries of the Four Seasons Hotel, Friends at NTU, and Subway (mmmm!)

One always hears that the the most amazing things happen when you are least expecting them. While this seems true to an extent, likely because people can prepare themselves for expected events and so the transition is more gradual, this morning something memorable happened that was impossible to predict: I sat down to a continental breakfast with the legendary musician, Carlos Santana, sitting at the table to my right. Ok, so it isn't that life-changing, but it was remarkable nonetheless. Apparently, Santana is performing at a concert here in Singapore, and seeing him says something about the kind of hotel I am staying at - certainly a big step up from the kind of Salvation Army sponsored hole-in-the-wall that usually fits my budget. One last thing: Santana looked exactly like one would imagine with a bright yellow outfit and hat, and a pleasantly relaxed demeanor.

After breakfast, I worked out in the modern hotel gym that has seen such stars as Sting and others whom I have forgotten (a worker I befriended filled me in), and afterward rode the MRT to Boon Lay station on the far western end of Singapore. I was meeting a few friends for lunch at my favorite ban mian (hand-made noodles in soup) stall on NTU campus, but en route I became slightly confused at the altered bus routes. Fortunately, an NIE student named WangYu helped me out, and since we were both boarding the same bus we spent the ride chatting about the normal happenings in Singapore - updates on Edison Chen (the Hong Kong pop-star whose computer was hacked and hundreds of sex photos with other pop-stars were posted all over the internet), the Singapore Airlines pilots who are pushing for higher wages, and (of course) where to find the best 百鸡反 (Hainan chicken white rice) - she claims Maxwell Road.

Before heading to "can A" (canteen, or cafeteria, A) I visited a small shop that sells Asia's largest boxes of Hello Panda, but they were sold out - thereby nullifying 30% of the reason I bother coming to this hot and humid island just above the equator. (The other 70% is because Singapore is one of the nicest cities on the planet, albeit for short stays given the handicapped size of the country.)

At 13:30 I met Wai San, Yulin, and WangYu in the crowded cafeteria, running into a couple of other friends in the process, and spent the next couple of hours sharing a laugh. The ban mian lived up to my expectations, and the auntie at the stall recognized me immediately, even though it has been roughly one year since I was last ordering my lunch here. I probably made her week when I commented, "我来这个反但因为在新加坡我觉得你的版面最好了! (translation: "I came back to this cafe because I think you have the best hand-made noodles in Singapore!") Perhaps it is narcissistic, but I derive extensive satisfaction whenever I can surprise people in Asia by speaking Mandarin to them!

Later in the evening I broke away from the spirit of Singapore by grabbing a take-out foot-long Italian sub from the Subway near Orchard Road. I ate it in the hotel room with a bottle of red wine while my father brought me up to date on his conferences at one of the world's largest air shows (the largest if you ask a Singaporean.) Shown above are a few pictures of the new Airbus 380 Dreamliner, which can probably hold a passenger or two if the turbines are anything to go by.

February 18, 2008

Singapore (SINGAPORE)

再见香港！Sillypore-la!

(Goodbye Hong Kong! Back to the strangest island on the planet)

The 6:00 am wake-up call shattered my peaceful slumber this morning, but in Hong Kong there are no worries: everything is convenient and life is always wonderful! After showering and stuffing the last of my stuff (note: I have stuff, while everyone else has junk) in my backpack, I composed a small hymn as I said goodbye to the most amazing cityscape on the planet from my waterfront window.

Next came the logistics portion of the day: checking out of the hotel, hopping on the MTR to Central Station, transferring through the underground concourse to Hong Kong station, and 50 minutes later stepping off the Airport Express at Terminal 1 of Hong Kong International Airport. In reality, I am departing from Terminal 2, which is where all the rubbish "budget airlines" depart from, but I was able to hang out with the "cool people" in Terminal 1 because my father was flying Cathay Pacific. The only downside to the morning is my flight doesn't depart until 11:30 am, so I have four hours to kill at the airport. Thankfully, I found a good seat where plenty of flight attendants pass by on a regular basis!

I boarded the Jet Star flight at 11:10 am, riding a crammed bus to the plane out on the airport tarmac because budget airlines don't warrant a terminal gate of their own, and made myself comfortable against the window in seat 10F. The next thing I remember, after waking up three and a half hours later, was looking out my window at Singapore as the plane made its final descent for landing.

The customs process was a painless procedure, but before leaving the baggage area I wisely bought a few bottles of alcohol at the duty-free shop. Singapore imposes heavy taxes on alcohol, and because this IS my vacation, beer and wine are sure to be a fundamental part of my time here. As another Singaporean friend loves to point out: there are 24 cans of beer in a case because there are 24 hours in a day. (Cheers Wyatt!)

One of the bottles I purchased was Wu Liang Ye, which is a famous Chinese rice wine that I discovered in my parents' liquor cabinet half a decade ago, and proceeded to inhale along with Jack, Ruwan, and Paul, when I was still living in Florida. Every time I visit China (or a Chinese enclave) I buy a bottle of this stuff because it brings back such good memories, and today one of the salesmen commented that he was from Chengdu, the capital of the Sichuan province of China, where this alcohol comes from. I nearly knocked him off his feet when I started telling to him in Mandarin how Sichuan province is famous for having the best wine, women, and food in all of China! In fact, this is a province I will be visiting next month on my overland (and water) backpacking trip from Singapore to Tokyo.

After passing through the Green Channel and out into Singapore - taking note of the sign warning that smuggling drugs into Singapore bears a penalty of death - I met an old friend named Yulin who came to pick me up. She has spent the past year living in America and Sweden, so we decided to catch up at a hawker center (Singaporean outdoor cafeteria) called Changi Village.

Although the nasi lemak is famous at Changi Village, I was more intent on re-familiarizing myself with Tiger beer, and drinking alcohol with Malay (Muslim) food is not very considerate. So, I opted for a Chinese Hokkien dish that was the spiciest I could find, and coupled with the oppressive heat of Singapore it was a perfect excuse for drinking two large bottles of Tiger beer. ("What time is it? Tiger time!")

Notice on the picture to the right that there were two large birds at the table next to us. Such are the hawker centers of Singapore, where the best food can be found, but the less-than-reassuring sight of crows pecking at the left-over food on a plate can often scare most sane people off!

There is a nice park near Changi Village where I was able to relax on a park bench and look out over the water while allowing my food to digest. Despite signs instructing "No Fishing" there were a few rebels scouring the banks doing just that. When I asked Yulin about this, she remarked that the men have nets, not fishing poles! Hmmmm...

Later in the evening I met Wai San, my next door neighbor when I studied in Singapore, for dinner at a famous Hainan chicken-rice restaurant in Serangoon. It is a poorly-kept secret that if some one wants to garner an ounce of respect in Singapore they must have a well-backed up opinion on where to find the best chicken-rice, so every time I visit Sillypore I make sure to refresh my list on where to go. (The truth is that other than shopping and eating, there isn't that much to do here, which is likely a contributing factor to why the populace is so damn productive  in the workplace.)

By 9:00 pm I was growing tired (I woke up at 6:00 am!), so Yulin dropped me off at the Four Seasons hotel in Orchard where my father checked in earlier in the day. This is one of the nicest places to stay in Singapore, so I must have looked more than a little out of place with my cargo shorts, t-shirt, and backpack. Well, maybe not so out of place: ang mohs ("red heads," or foreigners) can get away with anything in Singapore, as so many Singaporeans love to comment! Besides, it's not like I am about to complain about five star luxury when I would be staying in Salvation Army sponsored hostels otherwise.

February 17, 2008

Kowloon (HONG KONG)

Fresh Fish in Sai Kung, Butchering Frogs & Turtles, and Another Light Show

I am a silly man: I knew Arsenal would put out a weakened team for their FA Cup tie against Manchester United, but still I could not resist the temptation to stay up and watch the match at 1:30 am this morning. In fact, I even went to the trouble of "borrowing" a LAN cable from a computer in the hotel (sneaky sneaky sneaky) so I could bolster my connection speed, and with an 11Mb/s connection the internet stream from Thailand came through just fine! The only trouble was the Arsenal team didn't fancy the match, and were thrashed 4-0. Enough said.

So AC Milan this Wednesday in a Champions League match, where the real marbles reside!

After being too gutted to go back to sleep, I was understandably prone to sleeping in this morning, and fortunately the Hong Kong marathon was taking place just down the street on Nathan Road, so everything was closed down anyway! By the time we finally got going this morning it was around noon, and with an early start tomorrow morning my father and I decided to make this an easy, relaxing day. (As though I would willingly accept anything else.)

We rode the MTR to Diamond Hill station, where we caught bus 92 to the center of Sai Kung town in eastern Kowloon. Strangely, I saw the Chinese characters for Sai Kung (西貢), and although I don't know the second character, the first is obviously "west" - some one got their bearings mixed up when they named the village... Anyway, Sai Kung is famous for its fresh seafood and fishing village feel, and with many good memories and a great atmosphere, it is one of my favorite places in Hong Kong. As we alighted from the double-decker, British style bus, we heard the pounding of a drum, so we followed the noise and found a dragon festival (pictures and video below.)

Perhaps because of the fine Spring afternoon there were many people relaxing along the waterfront in Sai Kung during the afternoon. There was the normal sight of people walking their dogs and fresh seafood for sale - whereby people pass their money into fisherman's nets after selecting a live fish or crustacean from the fishing boat (shown to the left) - as well as of others patiently watching their fishing line from the end of the pier. The few musicians, mostly guitarists, who were modestly plying their trade added to the convivial family atmosphere that makes this such a great place to enjoy a pleasant afternoon.

For lunch we walked along the waterfront until we found the string of restaurants at the far end of town that are never as busy or hectic as the few near the pier. This was my fourth time eating at the seafood restaurants along the Sai Kung waterfront, so by this point I am fairly familiar with the so-called "good" places. I took care of the ordering, and we selected fresh lobster, garlic scallions, spicy calamari, a "whole fish" (I have no idea what kind of fish it was), and garlic vegetables. There really is no way to mess up fresh seafood, but even so the food was surprisingly tasty, as was the Tsingtao beer that my father has taken a liking to. I tried explaining that in China one can actually drink this beer out of a plastic baggy and a straw from the "quickie marts," or convenience stores for those who didn't grow up with The Simpsons, but I doubt he believed me.

Below is some rather disturbing video of a fresh foods (vegetables and meats) market near Choi Hung Station. I happened across this place back in 2006, and ever since it has been one of those "you have got to check this out!" places I take people who visit. Fortunately, the wonders of technology will save you the $$ and time that would otherwise be necessary to see what I am talking about.

One last word of caution: this video is GRAPHIC, so anyone who is against eating meat please avoid this video!

There was another man chopping up turtles, but I didn't think it was appropriate to include the video or pictures of this - small frogs are one thing, but I have an everlasting allegiance to my shelled friends thanks to a childhood constructed around the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Somewhere in my mom's attic lies a box-turned-shrine with all the action figures, VHS tapes, t-shirts, and even a framed picture.

The last bit of excitement for the day involved heading down to the Kowloon waterfront to watch the nightly Symphony of Lights on Hong Kong Island. Something like 33 buildings take part in the 20 minute light and laser show (coordinated with a strange techno-Chinese fusion of music), and although the view is just as good from our hotel room there is an added sense of reality along the water that the insulation of a quiet room towering above the ground simply lacks.

Below is some video footage of the light show...

February 16, 2008

Hong Kong Island (HONG KONG)

Peak Tram, Walking Down Victoria Peak, Authentic Dim Sum, and Stanley Market

It was to be a busy Saturday, so we got an early start this morning to beat the crowds at the Peak Tram on Hong Kong Island. We started by walking along the Kowloon waterfront, stopping for a tourist photo at the Beijing Olympics countdown, and finished at the Star Ferry ticketing gates. For only a few Hong Kong dollars, we grabbed seats on the ferry for the fifteen minute ride across beautiful Hong Kong harbor. I have yet to figure out how they keep the water so clean, but I have long had a desire to dive in. (For now, common sense continues to reign supreme.)

From Hong Kong station it was a short twenty minute walk through the heart of Hong Kong's financial district (translation: skyscrapers and ultra-modern buildings that "inspire confidence") to the Peak Tram ticketing office, which is situated across the street from the United States Consulate. There was already a line of 30 tourists ahead of us, but this is far better than what can be found later in the day when there are easily 100 people waiting to go up on a clear day.

I neglected to take any pictures on the tram ride today, but I will cheat because I have done this before and still have pictures from an earlier visit (shown to the left.) And yes, the tram really is that steep, climbing several hundred meters in a matter of minutes, and at little more than a snail's pace - making everyone on board think the tram car is ready to fall backward at any point.

At the top of Victoria Peak there are exists a gauntlet of over-priced shops, restaurants, and convenience stores that I have always avoided like the plague, but my father seems to be addicted to Perrier water, and found it surprising when he paid something like $4USD for a small bottle. I bit my tongue.

Fortunately, my father is in fair shape, and he was happy to spend the next hour or so walking down from the peak, rather than simply taking the tram down like everyone else. There are plenty of nice views along the route, and most of the walk is through forested parks where locals living on the mountain take their dogs out for a walk.

At 13:30 we met Eric (a friend who lives in Hong Kong) at Causeway Bay for an afternoon dim sum snack. There was no way I could do justice to dim sum without his help - all the best restaurants only have traditional characters on the menu - and he was more than happy to find my favorites on the menu. After meeting at the station, he led us to his family's favorite restaurant, and although there was a 40 minute wait, we decided to hang around and spend the time chatting. Eric has lived, studied, and traveled extensively - he will leave for Spain and mainland China later this month - but like so many Hong Kong people there is nothing they like so much as the small group of islands off the southern coast of China. While I have never met Eric's father, I already know he is the type of man who travels with Chinese herbal medicine, eats at only Chinese restaurants after trying one (and only one) obligatory local dining experience, and more likely than not he cringes at the poor understanding of feng shui principles at whatever elite hotel he stays in.

It is impossible to recount all the dishes we tried at lunch - there were roughly one dozen - but what does stick out in my mind is the new style of char siew baozi (barbeque pork inside a hot bun) that has some sort of crusted lemon on the outside. Eric said this is a new development in Hong Kong, and I can't really complain: it was damn good! (I can almost guarantee that not a single person out there cares one iota about my recount of the char siew baozi, but some day someone out there will visit Hong Kong and thank me for this recommendation... I can only hope.)

After lunch, we rode the MTR to the last stop on the Island Line, Chai Wan. Underneath the station, we boarded one of Hong Kong's many mini-buses, with this particular one destined for Stanley Market. It was a pleasant 20 minute ride along the shoreline, and such scenery can easily make one forget they are in Hong Kong: the jungle-clad landscape, sloping dramatically down to the green ocean below, is reminiscent of a place like Costa Rica.

From the mini-bus stop, it was a short five minute walk to the main street of Stanley Market, which is a famous place to buy touristy items. Thankfully, my father agreed to take care of all his shopping later this evening in Mong Kok, so we didn't loiter around for too long. Instead, we headed for the waterfront and circled around the promenade outlining Stanley Bay. It was far more crowded than I was expecting: expats and locals alike were outside enjoying the weather with activities like fishing, soccer, enjoying drinks at the many outdoor bars, or nibbling on appetizers at a variety of fusion cafes.

We followed a small trail that led us through the trees at the quiet end of the bay, and after ten minutes of walking we stumbled across a small Buddhist shrine where several people were performing belated Chinese New Year rituals. I was hoping to show my father the proper ceremonial "techniques," but a seemingly crazy woman approaches us and started warning me that there exists something evil in the water around this shrine. Apparently, many foreigners have been reported missing around here, never to be found again. According to her, there is some unknown entity that lurks the waters below, and kidnaps unsuspecting people. Of course, it was a complete load of bollocks, and she was obviously a bit off, but because she wouldn't stop bothering me I decided it was best to get moving (she scares me more than any sea monsters, exempting sharks.)

The last order of business for the day was the touristy Mong Kok shopping, so after arranging a rendezvous, I released my father from my protective custody and let him tackle the markets on his own. In the mean time, I got a much needed haircut at one of the many stylish barbers overlooking the hustle and bustle that makes Mong Kok the most densely populated place on earth on nights like this. The pictures to the left should give a good idea of what the real Hong Kong feels like.

After many mental debates over whether or not to include an embarrassing detail for the day, I decided it is worth telling the truth: my father came to Asia and I actually took him to Pizza Hut. Ashamedly, I am not even ashamed of it. I have been craving real pizza for a long time, and although I meant to have more of it when I was visiting the United States over Christmas, something else always got in the way. To be fair, Pizza Hut is far different in Asia than it is in America: in the latter I have only been there as part of a sports team-related lunch, but in the former it is the kind of restaurant one could use for a Valentine's Day date. There is no buffet, and the decor is a far-cry from the tacky Red-Roofed "hut" found at all the American Pizza Huts. Somewhat oddly, there was only Carlsberg (English) beer available - so much for "American globalization" being the guilty party invading established brands around the world.

February 15, 2008

Kowloon (HONG KONG)

Moving Downtown, the Wonders of Mong Kok, and "What a View!"

Why on earth would so many taxis wait around at the airport when the Airport Express is so efficient, and infinitely cheaper? It must have something to do with the fact that those who are in a serious rush will opt for a taxi, but even then I cannot see how driving can possibly be quicker than taking the train. Maybe people don't realize how easy Hong Kong is to navigate, and feel more comfortable paying four times more for a taxi that will drop them off at the front door of a hotel, rather than walking 2 minutes from the nearest station. Whatever the case, the vast majority must feel similarly to me. Otherwise, all these taxis would have customers, rather than lying dormant in what looks like one of those airplane graveyards found in places like Nevada.

My father and I switched hotels today (riding the Airport Express!) so we could be closer to the "action" in downtown Hong Kong. As much fun as I have had sitting around watching scarcely clad flight attendants at the airport, even my ego would suffer a serious blow after if I continued being rejected all weekend. (I will have better luck at the clubs and bars!)

It took some arm-wrestling, but I convinced my father that staying at his previous hotel on Hong Kong Island - which overlooks the number one night spot, Lang Kuai Fang (LKF) - would never match a hotel I knew about along the Kowloon waterfront. Now, here comes the interesting part: my argument was supported with the well-founded claim that we will be staying next door to Asia's nicest hotel, The Peninsula (featuring nine Rolls-Royces and helicopter pick-up) with the same magnificent view of the harbor, and at a price that is far more reasonable than anything he could have found. How is this possible, the average person may wonder? Well, the secrets are in the details: the hotel is sponsored by the **hush hush** YMCA. (I can't help but laugh!) Obviously, I neglected to tell him this minor detail, so when he checked in at the front desk and realized he was staying at a YMCA-associated hotel gave me one of those "Oh Boy..." looks, but I stuck to my guns: there is no sense paying exorbitant prices when the YMCA Salisbury gives you the same thing!

For the afternoon I took him on a walking tour of downtown Kowloon (leaving Hong Kong Island for tomorrow.) The highlights of the day were watching him experiences Chinese haggling for the first time: he was looking through the many knick-knacks for sale in a market and made the inexcusable mistake of seeming interested in buying something. For the next 10 minutes the woman was trying her best to take him for all he was worth, so I broke my vow of silence and piped up in perfect Chinese (I have bargained in Mandarin far too many times):

"Haha, why are you trying to cheat this silly foreign man? Your price is far too high for these goods, look!, I can see the poor quality. Besides, Shenzhen in mainland China has cheaper goods anyway! Maybe I should just take him there(etc etc...)"

She had this look of absolute shock, but after a second or two her innate ability to bargain (as sure a Chinese trait as any) regained control and she spouted back at me:

"Haha, so you speak Chinese! Sneaky, haha! Tell your friend I will give him a good price, how much does he want this for? Tell him I will give him two for the price of one! (etc etc..)"

Naturally, my father was eager to know what was going on, and between trying to catch everything the woman was saying (she started speaking too damn quickly for me to catch everything) and translating his "terms" I quickly decided I wanted no part of these proceedings. I told him he was on his own and started walking away. The woman sensed that she was about to lose a sale, possibly her only one of the day given the never-ending stalls lining the streets, so she chased me down, grabbed both my arms, and began pleading with me that she wanted business, just name my price. I told her we would be back, broke free, and continued down the street, leaving my father helplessly wondering what to do next. Shortly afterward, two Chinese women approached me and said:

"That is your father, isn't it? [I nodded my head and smiled] The poor guy, look at him!, go back there and help him."

I took pity, returned to tell the woman we would come back after lunch (which we both knew meant that she had lost the sale), and we escaped unscathed.

Speaking of lunch, I decided there was no way my father could visit Hong Kong with trying meat on a stick and bubble tea. It wasn't hard to find stalls serving both, but I made sure to walk around for 10 minutes first to see which ones were attracting the most customers - eating meat from a stall on the side of the road is not exactly the most sanitary way to do things. Fortunately, my father was a real sport about it, and I like to think he even enjoyed the equivalent of a Chinese barbeque. He probably hasn't stood on the side of the road eating greasy food since his college days! Likewise, the picture to the left shows just how much he liked the bubble tea!

Finally, below are the views and a short video taken from the hotel window during the nightly Symphony of Lights... I felt justified!

February 14, 2008

Lantau Island (HONG KONG)

Scouring the Airport and a Farewell Dinner with Dan Yuen

I spent most of today trying to plan my upcoming backpacking trip from Singapore to Tokyo, but after hours of internet research I decided, "The hell with it! I have done this enough that I am ready to entirely wing a trip, and see where it takes me!" So, that is where I stand, and in one week's time I will take off from Singapore, but whether it is by boat to Sumatra, bus to Malaysia, or flight to some unsuspecting place I do not yet know. Truthfully, it is better this way because now I don't have to worry about any more planning.

Instead, I can worry about more pressing matters: like where to find Hello Panda, my favorite Asian snack, in the maze of shops at the airport. You see, when you are in a hotel connected to the airport by a sky bridge, such are the kind of adventures on which one will embark. (The answer, for future reference, is the Okashi-land store in the Terminal 1 arrival hall.)

For dinner this evening I ate with Dan Yuen, my father, and a flight technician from Texas at a Shanghainese restaurant. Dan was kind enough to let me take care of all the ordering (giving me the chance to impress my father), and between my knowledge of the dishes and my spoken Mandarin, I was once more able to justify my time spent in Asia.

In fact, when I spoke to one of the elderly women serving us, I nearly gave her a heart attack from the shock that I spoke Mandarin. Everyone at our table burst out laughing (her shock really was that funny!), but afterward we had to avoid certain dishes on the table because (an unnamed person) blew extra toppings on all the dishes at the table!

February 13, 2008

Kowloon (HONG KONG)

Another Tough Day: The Gym, Sauna, Indoor/Outdoor Pool, and a Shanghainese Dinner

Today really was tough: I couldn't just lie in bed all day like I wanted, but had to forcefully pull myself out from under the covers at around noon. Then, rather than relaxing in my bath robe watching re-runs of ESPN's SportsCenter, I threw on my work-out clothes, which hardly vary from my normal clothes, and headed down to the 3rd floor for a serious work-out. I had the gym to myself, and spent 40 minutes "battling my inner demons" on the treadmill before making repeated rounds on the various weight machines. I am not sure if weights will make me any stronger, but I will certainly be sore tomorrow because it has been nearly one year since my last trip to the gym - push-ups, pull-ups, and running are a far move convenient (not to mentioned cheaper) alternative.

Anyway, after the gym I grabbed a couple cans of beer (Asahi and Heineken), and headed down to the complimentary spa where I more than made up for getting out of bed this morning. The cool Hong Kong weather might have bothered me if it wasn't for the option of  alternating between the Miami-in-summer heat of the sauna and the cool waters of the indoor-outdoor pool.

Later, I met my father between his meetings for an afternoon snack (shown to the right because it was free and tasty), and arranged a rendezvous at the IFC (International Finance Center) building for dinner later in the evening. In the mean time, I rode the Airport Express into Hong Kong station, transferred through the underground walkway to Central station, and rode the Island Line to Causeway Bay.

I met