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TRAVEL BLOGS
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February 29, 2008 Koh Tao (THAILAND) Worshipping the Sun, and Touring the Island on a Motorbike
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.
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.
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...
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.
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.
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.
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!
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
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.)
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.
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
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!
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.)
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.
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
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.
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!"
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.
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.
My last stop of the night was at a steakhouse in the IFC mall near Central station. I was already full from my earlier dinner, but the opportunity to eat at a steakhouse is one I am not foolish enough to pass up! February 12, 2008 Lantau Island (HONG KONG) さよなら 東京, 你好香港！ (Goodbye Tokyo, Hello Hong Kong!)
After grabbing my backpack from baggage claim, I passed through the "Green Channel" (nothing to declare), and out into the general arrivals hall. Like most people, I still scan the limousine signs with names on them, hoping my lucky day has finally arrived. It hasn't. My father flew into Hong Kong yesterday, and although he stayed near the ever-popular Lang Kwai Fang district on Hong Kong island last night, today he is staying at the Airport Regal Hotel so he can attend business conferences during the day (he is in something related to the airline business.) Even though I won't be at the center of the action - and out at the airport on Lamma Island I will actually be far from it - there is no underestimating the importance of convenience after a long flight (4h30m from Tokyo.) I didn't have to take a step outdoors to reach the hotel. Instead, there was a convenient "sky tunnel" that led me directly to the massive lobby where I picked up a reserved key for room 1024 at the front desk. I stepped into the elevator figuring room 1024 would naturally be on the 10th floor, but for some reason the button would not light up when I pressed it. After a bit of head-scratching I noticed that the 10th and 11th floors require key validation, and after inserting my key into a slot I was on my way. With one of the deluxe rooms at a high-end, albeit inconveniently located hotel, this trip to Hong Kong should turn out all right after all! I dropped my bag off in the room, flipped open my laptop (hello wireless!), ordered a Hainan chicken meal from room service, and began the "unwinding process." February 10, 2008 Tokyo (JAPAN) Tokyo-in-a-Day Today I tried my best to compress the world's largest city into a manageable day-tour. For anyone who is too lazy to read through the numerous journals where I have written in-depth on a variety of areas/topics, this may be the easiest way to develop a feel for the city. I left to meet my father at his hotel at 8:30 am with only a sweatshirt and a small rucksack. After passing the Myanmar embassy on my right, and strolling through the secluded Gotenyama park where nearby residents were already walking their dogs, I met my father in the main lobby of the Laforet. We made a quick phone call to the United States, and subsequently started the walking tour. First on my list was Gotanda, which is the next station on the Yamanote Line, and has a great selection of restaurants and seedy areas (including a notorious red light district.) Although my favorite ramen shop hadn't yet opened, I too him instead to a Starbucks-like coffee shop called Tully's, where we had fresh coffee and toasted sandwiches. It wasn't exactly the most Japanese start to the day, but it was nonetheless a typical place for breakfast on a Sunday morning.
While buying tickets at Okachimachi station, it dawned on me that I might as well show him the famous Sony showroom in the uber-trendy Ginza area. From Yuraku-cho station it was a quick walk through towering shopping malls with brands like Gucci, Tiffanys, and Dolce and Gabbana screaming for attention behind sparkling windows adorned with photo-shopped human specimens. Egh! Fortunately, the Sony showroom was worth the overtly superficial assault on my senses. We strolled past all the "tourists" on the first floor and began in the consumer electronics section, working our way up to the fifth story. Most eye-catching were the big-screen LCD televisions, which are in fact approaching movie theater size these days, and a new product called a "Rolly" that plays MP3s and dances to the music. I found a youTube video of the Rolly, shown below:
(My father and I mimicked the above dance routine at the Sony building, but were undeservedly escorted from the premises - I still can't figure out where my father learned his "grooving" from.)
The pictures below were taken from the world's most famous Starbucks, which is located underneath the jumbotron overlooking the square.
After a trip to the sento so I could unwind in the hot baths (not everyone has the luxury of a massage chair in the room, David-san), Kumagai-san and I gave David-san a tour of the Shinagawa house where I have been living since September. We sat around the living room for an hour chatting, and then decided to have freshly made sushi at a nearby sushi bar. This earlier post details what the meal is like (I am too tired to type any more), but the basic idea is the customer has their own personal chef who cuts and shapes the raw fish right in front of your eyes. February 9, 2008 Tokyo (JAPAN) Welcoming my Father to Tokyo, and Great Japanese Food For the next couple of weeks my father will take a mini-tour of eastern Asia under the convenient guise of a "business trip." Although he does have business to conduct in Hong Kong and Singapore, his two night stop-over in Tokyo is purely to see the city I have come to call home, and to better understand why I cannot stop raving about it.
Bad idea. Not only did the local train take an hour and half, but many of the people on the train were not the Tokyo urbanites to whom I am accustomed. For example, ten minutes after I explained that Japanese people never eat, drink, or talk on cell phones while on trains, the sloppily dressed teenage girl across from us unwrapped an ice cream cone and began licking away. While this may sound trivial to many people who have not been to Japan, to see such blatant disregard for "the rules" was frustrating at best, infuriating at worst. Japanese style grows on you.
For dinner, Kumagai-san picked us up in a taxi and took us to an upscale restaurant in Nishi-Azabu, a trendy district known for high-end restaurants and shops tucked away on quiet streets. We were shown to a reserved table in the restaurant's only separate room, and left Kumagai-san in charge of selecting the dishes. While we were starting off with a round of Yebisu beer (my preference) and some kind of tooth-pick shaped potato crisps, our server brought out a selection of specialties for the evening. On one plate were three varieties of fresh sashimi (we decided to try them all), and on another, larger plate were four varieties of fish heads, shitaki mushrooms, and a section of marlin cut from the gill area. We decided to try the marlin, which would be grilled by a chef in the restaurant area and brought to our table later.
Other dishes that were brought out for the evening included: (1) a nabe dish, which included Chinese cabbage, thinly sliced pork, and various vegetables, (2) a turtle-shell broth that doubles as "natural Viagra" (it works, I swear!), (3) the grilled Japanese marlin that melted before touching my palette, and (4) three different kinds of soba noodles (thick/rough, silky/"angel hair", and normal) that we each dipped in a soy-based sauce, and (5) desert consisting of green sesame ice cream and assorted fruit.
Toward the end of dinner Kumagai-san ran into two friends of hers - a Japanese man working as the HR head of Coca-Cola Japan and his American wife who works for De Beers - who took the time to engage me in a kind five minute chat. They were very charming, and Jennifer is a perfect role-model demonstrating perseverance pays off with the Japanese language! By the time we dropped my father off at the hotel for the evening it was snowing heavily outside, and I was happy his first experience in Japan went so well! **Today made me realize what an impossible city Tokyo is to navigate without outside help. The city is simply too big, moves too quickly, the Japanese language is the definite norm, and it would be nearly impossible to "hit the ground running" here. So, just call me up if you want to visit and you can be shown around by the legend himself!" February 3, 2008 Hino (JAPAN) Plenty of Snow, and a Mamemaki Celebration for the Japanese Spring Setsubun
That it was cold and snowy outside posed
a new dimension to my plans for the day. Originally,
Kumagai-san and I intended to visit her mother's
house in Hino so I
Below are several pictures taken from Gotenyama neighborhood as we walked toward Shinagawa Station.
The soybeans themselves are meant to drive away the demons and bad fortune, and although I did a fair job catching them with my one free hand, Kumagai-san was far more clever by opening an umbrella and letting them fall right in! After five minutes of madness we stopped to re-gather ourselves, and then I ate one soybean for each year of my life (signifying good luck.) Below is video of the Mamemaki celebration.
From the shrine, it was a 15 minute uphill walk to the wealthy residential neighborhood where Kumagai san's mother now lives. We bypassed a large wooded park - one I will be sure to visit when the weather is better - and a large cemetery that looked strangely picturesque with all the snow.
After the war, her father, who was once a wealthy merchant with plenty of land, lost much of what he owned in the restructuring imposed by the Allied Forces. It was a very interesting conversation because she belongs to an older, more aristocratic style of Japanese life, and her comments contained many subtleties that Kumagai-san pointed out for me. By 4:30 pm we said our goodbyes and set off for home, arriving at around 6:00 pm for a small dinner and an early night's sleep after the long day. February 1, 2008 Tokyo (JAPAN) India's Notorious Bureaucracy, Expensive Thai, Burmese Protests, and Shibuyaaaaa India must have the most notoriously inefficient bureaucracy on the planet. Normally, I could care less about such things - a feeling shared by most people, surely - but today I was at the mercy of the Indian Embassy to process my visa. I would argue that the inefficient tendencies began when the British planted the first seeds of bureaucratic management in the 1860s (a certain type of person is often drawn to government jobs, irrespective of the country), but the truth goes somewhat deeper: there is an underappreciated tendency toward relaxation in Indian culture. Walk through any city in India and there will be scores of men relaxing over a cup of tea discussing cricket, politics, or... well... cricket. I'm not sure if it was cricket being discussed today, but it must have been something equally thrilling because there were 20 or so people sitting around the lobby twiddling their thumbs. Everyone followed the rule to "grab a number," but for the ensuing 30 minutes not a single number was called. Eventually, I approached the glass counter, briefly explained my situation (I have already been approved for the visa, I simply need them to put it in my ever-bulging passport) and told them I was leaving my passport for pick-up this afternoon. Thankfully, a kind woman who was leaving work for the day took mercy on me and said it would get taken care of. Afterward, I took the Marunouchi line from Yotsuya back to Tokyo Station, and transferred onto the Yamanote line to Osaki Station. The next couple of hours were spent doing additional research on the human rights disaster in Myanmar (Burma) because later in the day I would join peaceful protestors outside the Myanmar embassy in kita-Shinagawa. Every day from 3-4 pm they stand outside the embassy, which is only a 20 second walk from the house, and hold signs asking for such things as democracy, an end to forced labor, and the release of numerous political prisoners. Here is a link to a comprehensive background on the most recent bout of government-led abuse, murder, and expulsion of prying foreign eyes from Myanmar. (Some may recall the Japanese news reporter who was shot from point blank range by a member of the Myanmar military, and his recording devices all "disappeared" afterward). Noticing the dates on the above link, the more observant readers will notice I visited the country in the midst of the turmoil, but thankfully I left the country a week before the shooting started. The worst I ever saw was chain gang forced labor, but there were obvious tensions and an underlying fear among everyone within the country (excluding the brilliant comedian Par Par Lay!)
While I don't necessarily think protesting is the most productive means of implementing change, I sympathize with the Burmese people for all they must endure and how positive they remain throughout; it must be especially disheartening when surrounding nations in Asia do nothing to criticize the corrupt and oppressive government. China is often cited as the biggest culprit - a highly publicized fact given China's tendency to support other "evil" regimes - and indeed trade in 2004 totaled $1.2 billion. However, it is also worth noting that Singapore and Thailand are two of Myanmar's largest trading partners, and they have thus far shed a blind eye on the junta's actions. Sadly, even Japan has ignored western calls for increased pressure on Myanmar, and continues to both invest in and trade with the country. Later in the afternoon I spent two hours waiting in line at the Indian embassy (again, the oppressive inefficiencies were painfully obvious), but I got my 6-month visa for the country and that is all that matters! An interesting side note is that I am reading a book called The Satanic Verses by an Indian Booker-prize winning novelist named Salman Rushdie, and given there is a death warrant on Rushdie's life over this book, I made a book cover to prevent offending any Muslims. (The fatwa condemning Rushdie to death was issued by the former Iranian spiritual leader Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini on February 14, 1989, and Rushdie spent most of the following ten years in hiding).
Afterward, Rikard (Denmark) got a call from a friend who rented out a club for his birthday, so we headed to a chic place called Soft just before 1 am. (Interestingly, the guy's name is Israel, and where should he hail from but Israel itself. I can't begin to imagine the kind of stick he must regularly deal with, but with his long dread-locks and ability to run a dance floor he doesn't exactly fit the profile of an Hasidic Jew). At this point in the night, we all forfeited any chance for returning home before the morning trains, so it was a long night of intense dancing and partying. However, as much fun as nights like this can be, I still struggle to understand how people build an entire life around such a lifestyle. February 1, 2008 Tokyo (JAPAN) Update: Not-So-Easy Travel in China
Next month |
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.
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.
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.
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.
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. 
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. 
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.
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).
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.)
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.
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.
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.
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, 
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.
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.
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!")
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.)
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. 
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.
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.
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.
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!)
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!
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 a friend of mine named Eric (a Hong Kong resident
who studies at Georgia Tech with me) for dinner at a
popular Shanghainese restaurant near Times
Square. We ordered the typical favorites like
chicken in wine, wanton noodles, and steamed dumplings,
but I also opted for a spicy Sichuan dish (the
spiciest on the menu) that had me
coughing/sweating/dying for the rest of the night. So
much for my New Year's resolution to give up such spicy
nastiness! Some people are smokers, others are
degenerate gamblers, but me, I suffer from an
inescapable need to try the hottest food on every menu.
Who else on the planet travels with a bottle of hot
sauce at all times?
After
dinner, we stopped at a small shop offering a
traditional Cantonese dessert that is basically curdled
milk in a bowl (shown to the right.) I didn't want to
offend Eric by not sounding enthusiastic about what is
his favorite dessert, but a word of warning for anyone
out there: this stuff might as well be vomit, and if it
isn't, after you eat it you may produce some of your
own.
As
today was my last day in Tokyo until the end of March I
was feeling somewhat nostalgic. I woke up at 5am to
watch a live stream of the Arsenal-Blackburn match (2-0
to the Gunners, and five points clear at the top of the
table!), and ate a farewell breakfast with Kumagai-san
and Neiko-chan before saying goodbye. Then, I typed all
my goodbye emails, finished last-minute laundry, made a
few phone calls, and packed my
40
liter backpack for my upcoming travels. By noon I was
heading out the door into a Tokyo drizzle, stopping for
a bowl of hot soba noodles with curry sauce (450 yen),
and catching the Airport Express to Narita
Airport.
I
flew into Hong Kong International Airport late this
evening from Tokyo, arriving just after 10 pm. This was
my fourth time flying into the airport, and as ever
customs was a painless process alleviated by the
recognition that more officials are necessary when
multiple flights land at the same time; if only more
airports around the world were so accommodating. In
fairness, Hong Kong International Airport has repeatedly
won the award as the world's number one airport (Skytrax),
which is impressive considering it was built in 1998 on
90% reclaimed land. In fact, the colloquial name for the
airport is Chek Lap Kok, which was the name of
the small island on which the airport was built.
We
climbed four flights of stairs and bought a one-way
ticket to Akihabara at Gotanda Station (I
have a PASMO card that can simply be swiped at
the entrance gates), and rode Tokyo's most famous line:
the JR Yamanote. As Tokyo whizzed by outside, I
explained that Akihabara is one of the most
identifiable parts of Japan because it is the source of
otaku culture. 
Otaku
is a word used to describe someone who is overly
passionate and knowledgeable about something - often
manga (comics), games, or electronics - and
lives in a sort of imaginary realm as a result.
Akihabara is famous because it has the greatest
concentration of electronics in the world; imagine an
entire 20 blocks radius packed to the brim with Best
Buys, Circuit Cities, Radio Shacks, and every other
electronics store you can think of, big or small. Then,
add in the game centers (arcades), girls dressed up in
cosplay and willing to chat with you at a Maid
Cafe (for a price), and of course the otakus
themselves, and the result is one of my favorite parts
of Tokyo. Unfortunately, we arrived too early today to
see the district in full swing, but we still caught
sight of a French maid looking for customers, we looked
around a six story arcade with gaming systems far more
advanced than most airplane cockpits, and browsed every
type of electronics under the sun in the famous eight
story mega-mall Yodobashi Akiba.
Afterward,
it was time for a change of scenery, so we rode the
Yamanote line a couple more stations to
Ueno, which in many ways is the heart of historical
Tokyo. While we didn't visit any of the museums (such as
the National Art Museum or the National History Museum),
it was nonetheless pleasant to stroll Tokyo's equivalent
of Central Park among the many Japanese families who
were out for a morning walk. In my opinion, Ueno
is one of the best places to see the normally reserved
Japanese
people
interacting openly. I led the way down to Ueno pond,
which is famous for its picturesque reeds sticking out
of the water and the seagulls and ducks who serve as
long-term residents. Also, there is a pleasant shrine in
the middle of the pond where I demonstrated the proper
worshipping technique - from how to properly clean one's
hands at the well to the subsequent ceremonial clapping
and bowing. It can be awkward doing such things for the
first time, but David-san was a good sport about it.
From
Ueno park it was a short 5-minute walk to
Ameyoko market, which is located under the train
tracks between Ueno and Okachimachi
station. The market first developed after World War II
when American soldiers sold a variety of black market
items here, but it has since become a bustling area with
goods ranging from Army jackets to fresh fish to cheap
noodle shops. My real motive for taking him here was to
watch how many people he scared away as this 6'4"
goliath pushing his way through the crowd.
We
walked about 20 minutes from Ginza to
Hamamatsu-cho station where we hopped on the
Yamanote line once more, stopping for lunch at a
ramen restaurant in Gotanda. We ordered two pork
shoyu ramen dishes from the vending machine at
the entrance - making our selection, inserting 800 yen
($8USD) - and taking the ticket to our seats at the
counter. This is a typical lunchtime meal in Tokyo, with
steamed white rice and iced water being complimentary.
This
marked the half-way point in the day, and we
transitioned from touring the area North of Shinagawa
Station to the area to the West. There is really no way
to qualitatively explain just how big Tokyo is
except to say that even on clear days it is nearly
impossible to see across the city without climbing a
skyscraper for an aerial view, and the Yamanote
line itself, which completes a loop around the inner
part of the city, is 34 kilometers long.
Anyway,
we got off at Shinjuku station where shopping and
restaurants dominate during the day and the darker side
of Tokyo comes out at night. I thought about dropping my
father off in Shinjuku's "Gay District" where there are
a lot of bars and restaurants, but I might find my
future funding severely curtailed. Besides, there were
too many other things to see. We walked through Shinjuku
park, which was spared during WWII and thus had
century-old trees and wide open fields, and then
continued on the walking tour toward Shibuya
station, via Yoyogi, Meiji shrine, and
Harajuku. 
This
part of Tokyo is famous for its entertainment (bars,
karaoke, and clubs), shopping, food, and the younger
crowd who come out to enjoy it all. Of particular
interest are those who dress up in cosplay, and
as usual they were out in force in the area near
Harajuku. When I return to Tokyo I will do a full
post on the different costumes that exist because there
is simply too much to cover in this one post, but
suffice to say there are several hundred people dressed
up in every imaginable outfit.
Last
on the agenda was walking to what I consider to be
"typical Tokyo," and that is the square outside Shibuya
station that was made famous in the movie, Lost in
Translation. While the largest Tower Records in the
world (shown to the left), certainly merits a "been
there" photo, this square is Tokyo at its overwhelming
best. Even at 15:00 on a Sunday there were crowds galore
at the cross-walk, so just imagine what it looks like on
Friday or Saturday nights!
Rather
than continuing the tour to Roppongi
(foreigner-central) or Ebisu, we were both
understandably exhausted after eight hours of heavy
walking, and at 17:00 we headed back to Shinagawa. We
took the long way back from the station, passing
underneath the headquarter buildings for Japanese giants
like Sony, DoCoMo, and Canon, before walking through Old
Shinagawa. This area is the kind of thing that separates
Tokyo from so many other cities: one second there are
overwhelming skyscrapers, and around the corner are
areas that look like they haven't changed in the past
hundred years.
His flight landed at 14:30 at terminal
two of Narita Airport, but it wasn't until my mobile
phone rang that I realized he had already cleared
customs. Apparently there is an "A" and a "B" exit from
immigration, and this careless son didn't think to tell
him which to walk through (there was a 50-50 chance I
would guess correctly.) When I finally found him -
taking him under my protective wing - we headed
downstairs to the airport train station. Although he was
understandably tired from the 15 hour flight, I figured
it would be a better idea to take a local Sobu
Express train (as opposed to the Airport Express)
so he could start seeing the real Japan.
Thanks to a great discount for Sony
employees (*ahem* Kumagai-san), my father,
David-san, was
able to stay in the luxurious Gotenyama Laforet
Hotel, which is only a two minute walk from where
I live. While David-san showered, I spent 15
minutes relaxing in the room's massage chair looking out
over greater Tokyo from the 25th floor in kita-Shinagawa.
Then, we sat in the downstairs lobby catching up while
listening to a beautiful young Japanese woman playing
the harp.
The
first dish had the sashimi -everything from tuna
to sea urchin - and I demonstrated how the appropriate
proportion of wasabi and shoyu should
look. As we began whittling our way through the sashimi,
two more dishes were delivered: Japanese scallions
covered with a hint of crushed walnuts and the notorious
fugu sashimi (blowfish, a deadly food that can
only be prepared by licensed chefs, yet still causes
numerous deaths every year.) This was a real treat
getting to try fugu - my first such opportunity -
but I still gave Kumagai-san a questioning look to make
sure she trusted the restaurant! Biting into fugu
is not as bad as jellyfish, which is too crunchy for my
liking, and the taste comes alive better than any
sashimi I have ever had (I did not add anything to
the fugu dish.) While eating the sashimi we all
toasted another "kanpei!" with a chilled glass of
premium sake. Some varieties of sake are meant to be
served cold while others are mean to be served warm, but
overall good sake goes down far smoother than good vodka
and still packs a fair punch.
Another
memorable part of the meal was the second order of
Japanese sake that was served in a traditional styled
sake box (I found a photo on the internet, shown to the
right.) The large bottle of sake (from Osaka)
was poured into the box until it overflowed, running
down all sides, and a dime-sized amount of salt was
added to one side of the box. I moved a dash of salt to
one corner of the box and licked it up with my tongue
while I tilted the chilled sake into my mouth. It
probably reminds most people of drinking tequila, but
the big difference is that tequila makes you gag without
the salt and salt just makes the sake taste that
much better.
It
has been an irregularly cold winter in Tokyo, with the
upside being that there have been several snowfalls, and
none more so than the six or so inches that fell today.
At 7am this morning I could see clearly the thick flurry
outside my window, but rather than continuing to savor the
blissful warmth under the covers like the oaf that I am, I
rolled out of bed for a better look. Sure enough, snow
coated the entire neighborhood, and there were no signs
it would let up any time soon.
could experience a famous
Japanese celebration, Setsubun, marking the
coming of Spring. (Although with the heavy snow outside, I am not convinced Spring is ready to abandon the
blissful warmth of its own covers just yet). Rather than
let the occasion slip by, we decided it was worth
enduring the cold, damp misery outside as this is a
once-in-a-year event. So at 9 am, after a breakfast of prosciutto
sandwiches on freshly baked bread, sliced kiwi, oranges,
and coffee, I layered on clothes (including an extra
pair of football socks) and off we went. The feeling of
warmth lasted the whole of two minutes before a taxi
drove by and splashed wet mush on the legs of my pants.
There was no going back at this point!
Before
hopping on the Yamanote line, we went to the
large shopping area underneath Shinagawa Station
to buy some last minute necessities to celebrate the
festivities. Of particular interest were the long sushi
rolls that typically are cut into small bite-size
pieces, but for the Spring Setsubun the six inch
rolls are meant to be eaten whole. This is more of a
marketing gimmick than anything else - the intention
being that every person must have their own rolled sushi
- but Kumagai-san used it as an excuse to sample
different varieties for sale. Who am I to complain about
sampling tasty new varieties of sushi!
On
the way to Hino city, which is one of the many
cities that are still "within" Tokyo, we transferred
trains at the world's largest train station, Shinjuku
Station, and an hour later we disembarked. Kumagai-san's
mother lives in Hino, and this is where Kumagai-san
grew up in her early teenage years, so she hit the
ground like a local. We stopped at an amazing bakery
called Fujiu, which is often featured in
magazines and on television programs for its desserts
and pastries. After picking up fresh croissants and an
eclectic selection of premium desserts, we set off to
experience the Mamemaki celebration at a famous
temple in the center of the city - being careful not to
shake the box holding the delicate confectionary.
The
timing of our arrival coincided perfectly with the
hourly Mamemaki (literally "bean scattering")
celebration, and within minutes of finding a place in
the crowd the fun began! Alongside us were a hundred
other people gathered around, braving the falling snow,
laughing with delight while the organizers and
celebrities (ie Hello Kitty) threw baskets of
pan-heated soybeans down from the second story of a
shrine.
While
throwing, it is customary for the throwers to chant things like,
"
This
particular Shinto complex is quite large, and later we
spent the better half of an hour battling the cold while
Kumagai-san showed me around. We passed a large fire pit
where we rubbed smoke on ourselves for more good luck, a
collection of stone statues that were adorned with red
garments (knitted by locals and placed on the figures
for good luck), and also the large pagoda towering above
us.
Another
interesting bit of Japanese culture is related to the
painted heads shown to the left. Looking closely, one
will notice the eyes have yet to be painted on. It is
customary for a person to paint one eye when they have
something they would like to achieve, and after accomplishing the goal the other eye can be painted
on. I thought about buying one with the aim of "leaning
Japanese," but I can't carry a one-eyed head around with
me forever!
After
ringing the bell at the front gate, where two kind
neighbors were clearing walkway for Kumagai-san and me,
her mother came out greet us an show us inside. The
house itself was beautiful, and in my mind, contained a
perfect blend of traditional Japanese and Western
elements. Although my Japanese is very poor, Kumagai-san
did all the translating and through smiles the
conversation went along smoothly. We enjoyed a large
lunch (the first time Kumagai-san has not cooked),
consisting of various sushi dishes, white rice, miso
soup, green tea, shashimo (two inch long fish eaten
whole), chilled vegetables, and pickled vegetables.
After
lunch, we all relaxed in the living room to look through
photo albums and eat confectionary. She has lived
everywhere from Brazil (Rio de Janeiro) to Indonesia
(Jakarta), so I asked questions about what life was like
during those days, as well as Japan during World War II.
She was more than happy to share all her stories, and
responded that although she was still a high school
student at the time, she had to work in a factory most
days of the week to make parts for the war. Although her
house was never destroyed - she was very proud of its
grand beauty and insisted I visit - much of the
surrounding region was. 
At
1:15 pm, I met Eric (Hong Kong), Neil, and David (both
Americans) for lunch at the popular Keawjai Thai
restaurant near Meguro station for a going away
meal. We are all heading off in different directions for
the upcoming vacation, and it will be a few months
before I see them again. Although the prices on the menu
are unreasonably expensive (dishes start at 2000 yen),
we ordered a variety of curries that we could all share,
and the food itself justified the price. Granted, in a
month or so I will be eating Thai food in Thailand
itself, and I will struggle to find a Thai restaurant
anywhere costing $20 per dish. Ahhh, living in Tokyo!
By
3:15 pm, Neil, David and I were standing outside the
Myanmar embassy gates with 14 Burmese protestors (the
numbers steadily grew, and by the end there were 23
people in total). I spoke with several of the organizers
in the past, but this was the first time I joined them
in their efforts. My goal in participating was to spread
the word to people passing by, learn more about the
efforts being made from the protestors themselves, and
to show my support for the Burmese people.
In
line with saying goodbye to friends for the holiday
season, I decided to do something different by joining
friends for a night of bar-hopping and clubbing in
Shibuya. Normally, I hate
blowing money on drinks at Tokyo's expensive bars or on
over-priced entrance fees at clubs, but four friends are
leaving Tokyo for good, and this was to be my last
chance to see them.
We started off
with drinks at what must have been the smallest bar in
the world - it was literally a second floor room 8 feet
long
and 3 feet wide - but we managed
to fit ten people in there for the better part of an
hour, and I am fairly certain I met two mid-ranking
Yakuza members (Japanese mafia) at one point. We later moved on from the bars lining
"Drunkard's Alley" to a more interesting bar called
The Red Room, which as the name suggests was painted
to resemble the fiery pits of Hell (perhaps so the
regulars will be accustomed to their future
surroundings).
Contrary
to yesterday's post on easier travel in China, it should
be pointed out that travel in China is never easy -
especially in light of the horrible snow storms that
have recently hammered the country causing $3 billion in
economic losses and the cancellation of nearly 4000
flights. This
