Kerala Kerala Kerala

I awoke the following morning to a city virtually devoid of motor vehicles, with women walking in large numbers and filling the streets. Other women lined the sides of the streets and were cooking, using a single pot held up between bricks set on either side of bamboo wood fires. I walked and the smoke became intense and at times slightly suffocating. Some streets were blocked off to most males, but I was permitted as a foreigner with a badge I'd obtained the previous day; as a non-active participant in the ceremony and the culture, I didn't count. I cannot describe the story or the purpose of the Attukal Pongala Festival better than this blog: Click here. In the evening, a children's parade involving elephants sets out, but I was eager to get to the yoga ashram. Traffic was nearly at a gridlock and buses were unable to make it to the bus stand, so I ended up getting a rickshaw. The driver spent most of his time on the right side of the road, which would have been cool in the U.S., but in India, it meant that we made good time, but I was white-knuckling.The Sivananda Ashram was a haven from the big city. Set in the hills above Neyyar Dam and preserve, this ashram is a place for serious yoga training. I arrived between yoga teacher training courses and toward the end of the "yoga vacation" two week course. I jumped right in, under know dillusion that this was going to be a walk in the park. A typical day's schedule involved Satsung (meditation, followed by chanting) from 6-7:30 PM; yoga from 8-10; Breakfast at 10AM (all you can eat vegan; silence requested; sitting crosslegged); Karma Yogo at 11 (I cleaned some bathrooms each day); Special Practice for working on assenas (I attended these to work on head stand, crow, and later scorpion); Lecture on eastern philosohy, meditation, etc. from 2-3PM; Yoga class 3:30-5:30; dinner at 6PM; Another round of satsung from 8-10; Then bedtime. The good news is that they added variety to this blank schedule. We were incredibly fortunate to have a concert by a Hungarian musician who specialized in Indian music. He played an instrument resembling a sitar, but without frets, called a Sarod (I tried, but failed to play this instrument later in the week because I didn't have long enough finger nails); a copper bowl filled with water whose wet handles he stroked to produce an etherial sound whose vibrations excited the surface water; and an instrument that he played with his mouth and fingers that made a twang-like sound. Furthermore, he was able to use Tibetan throat, mouth, and head techniques to produce multiple tones at once and some incredibly deep sounds. At times, I wondered whether the sounds were coming from him at all, but they were. The result was one of the most sublime concerts I've experienced. I have his CD. I was fortunate later in the week to have a vocal class with this artist. He taught us some of the Eastern scale and worked on our voice control. An amazing teacher!
Another highlight of the yoga was the evening walking meditation. We went down to the edge of Neyyar Dam on the full moon and meditated to the reflections of various gray shades of trees, the moon, and the mountains beyond over placid water.Meditation was a challenge for me, principally because I have limited flexibility in the hips and so it's hard to find tranquility inside when physically uncomfortable. We had a lecture one day which involved the things that we should and shouldn't do in life (according to eastern/Sivananda philosophy); at the end, I wasn't sure how this related to the original topic--meditation. The response was that the things that occur in our everyday life, really affect our meditation dramatically and meditation is a continuum with the outside world. I didn't entirely believe this until I experienced it for myself. Partner yoga, offered by a guest yoga instructor, lead to a flirtatious interaction between me and and an Indian girl named Sanditha (she was really doing most of the flirting, but I won't deny my subtle reciprocity). In any case, our interaction became slightly confusing and awkward after this and one phrase she'd said while enjoying the yoga session baffled me: "I'm nearly crying right now, we would make such a wonderful couple." Well, things never progressed to this point for reasons I won't explain here; however, I found that my meditation from here on out was a constant mental struggle. Questions and conflicting thoughts about Sanditha riddled my mind and attempts to use mantras or other techniques failed miserably to erase these thoughts as they kept returning. In the individual quest to understand oneself, meditation has a place, I am convinced. I am not ready to commit hours to it, however. Well, that's my "spice" delivery for you ...time for some more curd...the spice is more difficult to write.After the yoga session, I headed north to the Amma (meaning "mother" in Malayalam) Ashram. Amma has the reputation for being an enlighted individual who gives Darshan through her hugs. This is the reason most people visit and some report truly enlightening/lifechanging experiences. This Ashram is more like a city sandwiched between the canal and the ocean. My accomodation was 16 stories tall. Most people are slightly older and less happy than at the Sivananda Yoga Ashram. It was Amma's last night before she left her Ashram for a trip and I had an opportunity to attend Darshan, where I recieved a hug after waiting for about an hour. I actually received quite a long hug with forehead pressed to her shoulder while she whispered "moomoomoo" or something into my ear (the crowd control people had instructed her vociferously, "English" in advance). Well, I felt like I'd received a quality hug and the general vibe was one of adoration for this woman, so I felt a small surge of adrenaline. I let myself enjoy it and figured I might as well keep myself open to the possibility of a life-changing experience. A few people issued tears coming out of Darshan and one caucasian girl got significant attention as she gave some gifts to Amma, including what I was told was a pet squirrel. At the end, some ceremony occurred that I couldn't see and I was annoyed by the incessant photography, apparently from Amma's own crew.
I headed north to Alleppe, "the venice of India" and caught a ferry to a backwater village (Chemankary) where organized homestays can be arranged. Not wanting to pay as much as an organized home-stay, I just showed up and wandered around. Eventually, somebody took me to a family who offered me a home stay for a better price. The family had a beautiful home with Joseph, Sally, and their daughter Lijina (Liji) and son (Lijo). The house was in a backwater enclave, surrounded by surrounded by rice paddies (they farm rice and earn money through tourism). Interestingly, they told me that they use about 1/3 of the rice that they farm for themselves and during the harvest, about 300 people will come to their plot of land from surrounding villages to harvest the rice in April. I really enjoyed this family and the food they made for me (small fish fry for lunch, _various curries for dinner, and rice/coconut steamed served with steamed bannana--really good mashed together). I also enjoyed a canoe tour of the village. The calm water made for excellent photography in the evening light. Siblings in this town have interestingl similar names: (1) Lijo, Liji; (2) Stella, Stephi, Steha; (3) Tinu, Tiho, Tibin, Titi, Tindu, Tinsi. A pet mina bird in the hose repeated like a parrot the following words: "amma," meaning mother AND "Issuay sto dram," meaning Jusus Thanks You. A shrimp trap in the nearby backwater channel produced results that morning and Lijo played with the shrimp's latent triggering reflex which was abrupt and strong.

After a relaxing morning of reading (largely an excuse to stay there to eat lunch), I headed back to Alleppe, from which station I intended to catch a bus to Munnar. I happened upon somebody (Manoj) who was excited to practice English with me. He invited me to see his village to meet his friends and family and offered to let me stay overnight. The fact that I missed my bus made the decision easy, so Manoj took me to his small village nestled amid a maze of small streets outside of Harripad. Manoj's residence was two bedrooms. One for the pareents -- Pushpa, Manoj's mother, and Ma Tra Van, his father, with a small kitchen area, I presume; the other for Manoj and his older brother (and me). The room was about the size of my smallest college dorm room. 4 cows, including two calfs lounged outside and were brought into a shed out back for the night. Manoj took me toward the rice paddies and on the way we met most of his family and many of his friends and English students. He would often make comments to me about the quality of these students, saying something like "Her English is quite good, but she's too shy!" I was incredibly warmly welcomed and felt like everyone in town was amazed that I was there. I think Manoj was even surprised that I was willing to accept such marginally adequate accomodations (i.e. sharing a bed). I did have to establish earlier in the day that I was not interested in the favors he implied by his unusual offer of a massage, but he later earned enough trust that I was willing to work with the situation. Before bed, we took a hair-raising motorbike ride to a local Toddy bar. This time, I tried it without alcohol and still didn't enjoy it, but the spiced beef made the trip worthwhile.

The following morning, I headed to the Portuguese/Dutch old port city of Kocin. I will let the words of Arundhati Roy describe my Kathakali experience that evening. "In the evenings (for that Regional Flavour) the tourists were treated to truncated kathakali performances ('Small attention spans,' the Hotel People explained to the dancers), So ancient stories were collapsed and amputated. Six-hour classics were dashed to twenty-minute cameos." We were given an introduction to the make-up, the important role of the eyes, the mudras (which are really the language), and the emotions expressed in embellished facial expressions and hand gestures. The show we saw involved an infatuated female who was ultimately "slashed up" by the sword of the man she fawned upon. I would hope that if this were a 6-hour classic, there would be more to be witnessed...but perhaps I was missing a lot by not understanding the mudras.

That same evening, I experienced the wonder of green mango fish curry and my hotel owner agreed to teach me how to make it, so after a quick tour of Kocin's sites the following day, I learned to make the dish. Here are my notes:

Keralan Fish Curry (Green Mango or Tamarind)

150-200g shaved coconut (preferable) or 1 bottle coconut milk

1 small green mango sliced in thin-ish strips (for green mango curry)

2-3 Tamarind pods or 2 Tbs. Tamarind juice (for Tamarind curry)

2 Tbs. red pepper

1/2 Tbs. tumeric

~1 Tbs. salt

Rice

1. Combine dry ingrededients and blend with one cup water
2. Add to frying pan along with another cup or so of water (or coconut milk if subsituting).
3. Add deeply scored 3/4" fillets of white fish (snapper was used here).
4. Heat until boiling, then reduce heat somewhat and simmer 10 mins per side.
5. Serve with steamed white rice.
   

After a five hour bus ride into the hill station of Munnar, a vestige of England's colonial influence punctuated by it's thirst for tea, I found myself shivering for the first time in months. The next day, I set out with an open agenda, but hoping to be able to climb the tallest peak in the Indian Subcontinent, south of the Himalaya. I was repeatedly told, I was not allowed (yes, NOT ALLOWED) in Ervakalum national park (in which Anemudi "Elephant peak" was located) because the rare species of goat was breeding. I avoided one security guard by going through thewell-manicured tea terraces and spotted a Great Lemir and a flying squirrel in the trees between plots of tea. The people working on the tea plantation were adding some sort of chemical to eliminate some sort of pest. The one I spoke with kept talking about "Elephant--very dangerous." Apparently, there was a herd of elephants in these parts, but lone elephants can be quite dangerous. I finally saw my route into the tempting high country. After a short stop at a waterfall, I turned my red raincoat inside out so it looked black, to better camouflage, and I started upward. Within a few minutes, I found myself amidst a swarm of 1,000-10,000 bees which were traveling rapidly. I was able to restrain myself from the urge to swat at the first few (very fortunate I didn't swat!) and I dropped down and cowered, motionless, probably not even breathing. The swarm passed nearly as rapidly as it arrived. I had some second thoughts about continuing at this point as I viewed this to have been a potential "near death" experience. After some discussion with Karen, my top source for all things entomological, we suspect that a swarm of female bees were following their queen and I probably hadn't disturbe a nest since the bees were not interested in me. I just happened to be in the wrong place along the subtle ridge they were crossing. At this point on the hike, I decided that the event must have been a freak occurrence and continued onwards. The greatest challenge was the high grasses, which I feared harbored snakes. Navigation became tricky as there were rock bands to negotiate with steep hill slopes between the precipices. I found a suitable route and found myself in terrain resembling the rolling gold hills of California (above 6,500 ft here). I spotted several packs of the rare Nalgiri Mountain Goat and realized that although far away, I was disturbing them as they ran off away from me. I was trying hard not to impact them and feel badly if I affected the breeding in any way. A few small cumulus clouds were developping, so I rushed to the summit. There was a small trail coming up from the other side, which is odd because the mountain is supposedly within the "core zone" of the park, which is never open. At this point, I should mention that I completed this 5 hour hike with only one of the 10 essentials (a rain coat, doubling as insulatin), which meant that I had neither food nor water. Thus, by the time I made it back to the road, I was severely dehydrated and even after 1.5 liters of water downed, my legs started cramping as I approached the entrance to the TATA tea museum (this must have looked ridiculous as I was having difficulty hauling myself out of the parking lot).

The tea museum has a functioning tea processing facility demonstration. It also has media which touts how the tea plantions (growing from 3,500-7,000 ft.) are one with nature. Although the plantations are genuinely beautiful, the monoculture introduced here must have been ecologically devastating. One pieve of evidence for this devistation is that 20 years ago Elephants roamed the streets of Munnar and people were afraid to walk outside at night as a result.

My final morning in Munnar, I visited a spice garden where I witnessed the very origin of the spice trade (40 species of plants with wonderous aromas). Then, I commenced a 24-hour journey to Goa. In an attempt to save travel time (and not backtrack), I decided to catch the train one station beyond it's origin (from which my sleeper ticket was issued). Well, my train didn't actually stop at this station (express train, yeah I'm an idiot!). So, they sent me to Thrissur to try to catch my train there...well, the train didn't stop there either, so the station master said they'd have the train stop "just for me." Well, I watched "my train" slowly pull in, roll by, and exit the station while I waved furiously and ultimately hopelessly for them to stop. It was going just a bit too fast for me to jump aboard. Thus, I had to purchase a general compartment seat for another train (the sleeper class being booked full on this one). I boarded the sleeper compartment and they refused to cut me a bone (threatening a 400 Rs penalty if I elected to stay in the compartment). Well, I followed a Goan lady in the same predicamment and we went to the jam-packed General Compartment. After some visions of hours standing, Ijoined some boys who were sitting in the baggage racks near the roof of the train. The position was uncomfortable because we couldn't sit up straight, but I enjoyed their company. Meanwhile,the lady I'd followed kept giving me food which she bought me from the train vendors. When I offered to pay, she told me that "Jesus gives it to you, not me." This lady had just come from a 7-week bible camp in Trissur. That night, numbers in the train thinned and I ended up with a baggage rack all to myself. I was able to sleep on my bag and hold my valuables to avoid any theft. Now, I'm in Goa!

Tamil Nadu & Southern Kerala

With the 24-hour bug in check, I headed to Mahabalipuram on the Bay of Bengal coast, south of Chennai. This spot is renowned for its ancient rock carvings, which were entertaining for about half the day and then the ocean provided a nice relief from the heat. I had a late lunch of shark's fin, although I probably should have known that I was contributing to further decline of an already imperiled population. I had to try shark once and it just tasted like fish, really.

The next morning, I headed to Pondicherry, a former French Colony. At the bus stand, however, there is absolutely no evidence of this region's past. The Indian population here has exploded! I walked a good kilometer to the Ashram, where I hoped to find lodging. I found it at the Ashram's international guest house. The room looked quite clean, but ended up getting me with bed bugs. Sri Aurobindo, a political activist during the period of social upheaval against the British rule, turned into a spiritual guru and profound writer on the subject. The Sri Aurobindo Ashram complex was a disappointment to me. I went in hoping to find activities, but found only meditation in a courtyard centered around a flower-hewn tub of water. When I asked about activities, I was told somewhat snobbishly "read the literature," at which point I made for the exhibition (which provided a more summary-style version of the litterature). Here, I learned about the tremendous following that Sri Aurobindo inspired. People would come from all around to see him and he was highly venerated. Ultimately, he decided that spirituality and politics should not mix and he devoted his life to spirituality and the unity of mankind; and that unity represented itself for him as faith in a higher being.

Sri Aurobindo's primary student was a French lady who came to be known as "The Mother." She was also quite clever and claimed when Sri Aurobindo died that his spirit and strength now resided in her. She too inspired large crowds and admiration. I find it amazing that in a society that still poses the question on a billboard in Bangalore--should girls and boys be treated as equals? SMS one or two--that a foreign woman could be such a powerful religious figure. It was "The Mother" who founded Auroville, a town 10 km north of Pondicherry, which was set aside to grow into an international community intended to strive toward the unity of mankind. Her rationale is that man is imperfect and will thus be replaced by a more perfect being, so we must strive toward that perfection. Work was a very important element in her discourse on this subject.

The next day, I had went to Auroville to see for myself. It turns out that the first person I ran into in Auroville is an Australian who works in guest relations and is responsible for the University of Washington undergrad group that comes to visit Auroville once each year. He directed me to the visitor center and the Birla Mandir, which is a globe-shaped bronze-colored ball at the center of Auroville, designed to represent the unity of mankind. If one were to go inside (requires advanced reservation), intense concentration would be expected as a single shaft of focused light is directed to a small area within this globe. I only saw the Birla Mandir from the outside and it was impressive. It is the only aspect of the town that is complete. Everything else is a work in progress and large amounts of creative research are underway in a variety of different areas. The whole thing was very neat and subtle. You couldn't tell where the town edge is, but it is circular and there is a town architectural masterplan. Architects get excited by the freedom of expression possible here. I think what helped Auroville to succeed is the fact that people come here with ideas and a desire to work, rather than to escape reality, a feature in most aspiring Utopian societies, which I believe contributes to their downfall. Life is hard here for people because decisions are made on a consensus basis (they are experimenting with new systems of governance) and thus it is difficult to get things done. There's also no cash flow as everything is put on "the account," which is some amount of money you are given as a "starter." People here also have to interact with the realities of the outside world and as such it is not an escape.

Well, I think thatAuroville is a very cool place, so last night I asked myself what I would do if I went there. I think that one of the greatest problems in India (and southern Asia in general) is the accumlation of rubbish (mainly plastic bottles and wrappers, but all kinds of junk) as people just throw items on the ground, without thinking. After these items pile up, people burn them, creating noxious fumes in the air (making my eyes tear on the buses). My idea is to innovate a high-temperature incinerator that burns this rubbish more cleanly (I've been told that higher temperature incinerators are cleaner and although not ideal, are better than the lower-temperature burning alternative). My thought would be to build upon the idea of the solar kitchen that exists (and feeds 1000 people for lunch) in Auroville. Since I'm not good with electronics (and photovoltaics), my thought would be to use mirrors and powerful magnifying glasses to focus the solar energy on small regions...and try to generate enough heat to melt the plastics. I have some research to do in order to determine whether this actually reduces the relative to low temperature flames. Thus, this is a fledgling idea, concocted last night as I was trying to think what ideas I could explore if I were to spend more time in Auroville. It's kind of a fun question to ask yourself: What idea, experiment, or societal development project would you explore if you had the time, appropriate environment, and access to some resources?

My next stop was Tiruvanamalai. I came here to see the inspiring temple complex and Ashram. Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi inspired many by his presence. He would meditate for long periods of time and spent 7 years in a cave temple on the local mountain. I went to this temple and truly meditated for the very first time in my life. Part of the spirituality of this site is because of the mountain, which is geologically quite old and associated with Sheva. The mountain aspect to this helped me feel a small degree of spirituality. I descended to the main Ashram, where there are opportunities for both seated and walking meditation. Lunch and dinner at the Ashram were really terrific. You sat cross-legged in lines organized by rows of bananna leaves (i.e. plates) in a big open room and servers would come around and dole out rice, sambour, pickle, chutneys, etc.

Note: The story you are about to hear is true, only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

That same evening, I took the bus to Salem in order to meet a friend that I'd made on the bus, who was an off-duty conductor. I had some reservation about truly trusting his friendship, but I decided to give it a shot. We met late at night in the Salem bus station and he and I searched for a hotel with limited success. We decided that I would stay with his family about 20 minutes outside of town. His family warmly welcomed me at 2AM and I had a wonderful time with them after I got some sleep. Keel's wife and two daughters were really sweet and everyone seemed a little amused at my inability to utilize my hands efficiently for eating (somehow food always seems to slip through my fingers). Keel took me up to a place that was near and dear to his heart, a nearby mountain village called Yercaud. We took a bus with 20 hairpin turns probably 3,000 ft. up where the air was cooler and coffee plantation (originally developped by the English) replaced the savanna scrub. I was a bit bored in Yercaud and getting sick of Keel's company. After returning to Salem, Keel and I met up up with his friend, the bus driver who is the union leader and also a politician...go figure. Did anybody ever warn you never to trust a politician? Well, this guy also poses as a granite/marble slab broker and after a quick trip to the local watering hole (featuring alcohol that grows on palm trees! that tasted disgusting, unfortunately), we met with a client of this polititians. It turns out that Keel was along with him because Keel is a certified broker. Keel told me that the politician was a good man and wouldn't ever cause me or him any problems, but sometimes he bends his morals and it quickly became clear to me that Keel was willing to bend his morals as well (as an accomplice). The client was unsure whether to go through with the deal. Keel asked me (in the client's presence) how the floors of his (Keel's) house looked. The house had beautiful granite floors, so I responded to that effect, inwardly furious that I was being forced into being an accomplice to this shady interaction and already upset that I was there in the first place with a "friend" who would do such a thing.

Well, from that point onward, my relationship with Keel went downhill. He kept telling me I should come back and visit for a longer time and kept repeating himself and apologizing for things. After we parted ways, I received stalker-like numbers of phone calls from him and just decided to start ignoring them and it seems that we've cut off contact. It is unfortunate that our relationship ended this way, but it is a reality in India that many of the most outgoing people are not trustworthy, so if I continued playing his game, at some point I'm guessing he'd try to extract money, in spite of having professed no interest in that motive.

After a long overnight bus, I arrived in Kanyakumare, the southern tip of India, the confluence of the Arabian Sea (West) and Bay of Bengal (East). It's sunrises and sunsets are famous and the sunset didn't disappoint. Children were bathing in the waters here and at the temple, men (including me) are required to remove their shirts. Two small rocky islands are just off the coast. One features a very impressive statue. A white, Christian Church is also notable in town. The next day, I headed to Panaburnam Palace, mainly carved out of teak wood in the traditional Keralan style of architecture. From here, I hired a rickshaw to go to a large bridge which transported water in an aqueduct high above a stream valley, below. Very impressive in a setting of lush coconut trees and people bathing in the streams. I had a chance to talk to some young girls who were bathing in a stream near their mother who was washing clothes on the opposite bank. They asked me to take their picture. In no relation to this incident, about 15 minutes later, I was alerted that in Tamil Nadu, I should never take pictures of girls around my age. The men might throw me in jail, they said. Apparently, I could probably pull a foreigner ignorance card, but I decided not to take further risks. The cab driver took me back to town. We'd agreed on a rate of 6 Rs/km at the outset and I told him I'd pay 50 Rs for his waiting, but when we arrived, he demanded 120 Rs more than the math called for. I argued with him for 5 minutes and then another rickshaw driver came over to "arbitrate" the situation. He heard both our cases and of course sided with my rickshaw driver. I demanded an explanation, but all I got was something about "up and back" which sounded to me as though they were just doubling the odometer distance, arbitrarily. I knew they were trying to scam me, so I paid what I thought I owed and stormed off. Fortunately, nothing further ensued.

Yesterday was the 9th day of a women's festival in Tivandrum, the capital of Kerala. The festival will be discussed in the next post, but it is called 'Attukal Devi Prasadam.' Although there were enough people there yesterday to create crowd control issues, today, authorities estimate 2.5 million people will attend the final, 10th day of the festival.

I made a trip to the beach resort of Kovalam. The waves were big enough to body surf, the beaches were nice, and the palm trees were gently swaying, but a parade of vendors detracted slightly from the experience. I had an Ayurvedic Massage by a licenced doctor, complete with hot oil, followed by an herbal steam treatment. I was put in a wooden cask, seated, while a pressure cooker with hose attached pumped herb-infused steam into my chamber.

Back in town, I ate a sinfully delightful fish masala. Later in the evening, I told a German girl she could crash on the floor of my room, knowing full well that it was going to be very challenging for her to find a room in town at 10PM the night before the final day of the festival. Well, after the concierge of my hotel had told herc that no rooms were available, he demanded she leave the premises while she waited for me to run a quick errand. When I came back, the concierge was irate that I was trying to house another person in my single room. I tried to reason with him that we'd pay extra, but he presented a single, illogical argument about the price of the room meaning that only one person can sleep there. Well, I guess the name of guest house, 'Kukie's Holiday Inn' describes the owner pretty well. I was not pleased, to say the least, with this inflexibility. We searched the town for 2 hours, with no success finding a budget room and received very terse and unfriendly responses from hotel owners. By phone, we did manage to find my friend a room for the night.

Today, after attending the festival, I head to an Ashram for 3 days of Hatha Yoga boot camp...5 hours of yoga per day...

Indian Summer: Curd for the heat

It's only February, but the heat is on here in central India. Before India, I enjoyed an afternoon sojourn in Singapore an acquaintance whom I'd originally encountered in northern Laos. I can also recommend against Indian airlines. They changed my flight time, added an additional stop, were generally running late, and condensation on the windows leaked into the cabin (unsettling). Once in India, my first reaction was to the driving. Vehicles of all sizes co-exist in apparent chaos, each one managing to maximize the limited space on the road. Horns of all timbres and resonances fill the air to signal approach, passing, etc... I felt uneasy at first, but then I realized that the drivers are quite skillful and no vehicle travels much more than 20 mph because with all the auto rickshaws clogging the lanes and disobeying traffic rules (for example, sometimes travelling short distances the wrong way), it is impossible.

I spent most of my first four days and today (nearly a week later) with Sheela, her parents, and relatives (who have been truly wonderful hosts). Several afternoons I played street cricket and lagori (an interesting form of dodge ball) with my host family's youngest son, Ajay. We only broke one car headlight with a tennis ball (oops!!) and had to escape one dog that was walking it's drunk owner. The food has really been the highlight here...from home-made masala dosas to curries, idlys, biryanis, and golab jammon, just to mention a few. I didn't see all that much in Bangalore, but we did a bit of shopping and generally relaxed.

One day, I accompanied one of my father's friends' relatives to Mysore, a town known for its beautiful architecture. I was quite impressed by the Royal Palace (lots of gold, ornate ivory and wood door carvings, etc). While I was there, I also visited a temple on a commanding hill and made friends with some locals before attending a light show involving fountains and set to Indian popular music. The show itself was not really that impressive, but the crowd was into it, so that made it fun.

My streak of connections in India continued in Hyderabad, where Reddy's family (and Vineela's too) planned several wonderful days for me. Hyderabad is known for its Islamic influence; Charminar Palace is emblematic of the Islamic architecture. Once I ascended the structure, I got a taste of the lack of personal space afforded in India. Everybody is standing centimeters from one another. Around the structure, a swarm of rickshaws, people, vendors, beggars, and bicycles extends in all directions. The Salar Jung museum has an amazing collection of Indian and Eastern art, plus a famous Italian statue of a woman veiled in delicate drapery and a wall clock with a blacksmith hammering seconds and a surprise personage appearing at the end of the hour. I had to rush through this exhibit, so I actually returned several days later. The evening's visit to Birla Mandir was delightful. This all-marble temple is my favorite that I've seen so far in India. It's a nice retreat from the hustle and bustle of Hyderabad. In the evening, I had the famous Hyderabadi Biriani at the Paradise Hotel. The spicy mutton just flaked off the bone! My second day, I toured Golkonda Fort which featured accoustic enhancements designed for communication and the first water system (pumped and piped) in Asia. The King's office afforded a magnificent view and underground passageways connected it to very large burial tombs of the kings (several kms distant) and the huge mosque near Charminar Palace. The Queens' chambers were impressive as many queens resided there simultaneously. Reddy and Vineela have told me that they are envious that I'm getting to eat this food, so I'll spare them the description of the Samosa Regalas at Gokul Chaat. Let's just say that samosas have been re-defined for me. They are no longer a bland dish that readies the palette for more innovative cuisine. Later that afternoon, I went to a local arts and crafts village and enjoyed seeing some of the objects made locally. On my final day in Hyderabad, I toured to a temple recommended by Vineela near the Ramoji film city (a Bollywood vestige/tourist site).

The overnight bus to Hampi placed me in a small town, 10 km from the archaeological site at the unfortunate hour of 4:45AM. I was immediately accosted for a ride/tour/boat etc. I told this individual that I just needed some space, which he refused to provide me. Fortunately, I encountered another traveler in the same predicamment and we took a cheap ride to his hotel in Hampi where we crashed for some more hours before exploring the archaeological sites. Hampi is one of the most interesting places I've been because it is very laid back, but the local people are very religious, so it is nearly impossible to get meat or alcohol in any restaurant. People wash, brush teeth, and do laundry at the river side in large numbers, and the town elephant gets a royal bath treatment twice daily. When I witnessed this, the elephant was happily moving it's trunk as it lay on its side. Apparently it sometimes makes a joyful whistling sound as well. Elephants have been given royal treatment around Hampi for ceinturies. The finest architecture that I saw in Hampi was the royal elephant stables (12 very large stone-carved stables adjacent to one another, with amazing Islamic domes on top). The neat thing about the sites around here is that one can just explore. The terrain features boulders everywhere and some of the finest low-land rock climbing in India. One overland adventure put me in a cave formed by these weathered granite boulders. We made it through the cave, but decided that negotiating miles of boulders the size of tanks would waste the entire day.

I came back to Bangaluru to enjoy one more day with Sheela and her niece. The latter amused us with her opinions on such matters as dating white boys, a subject which arose because we weren't sure whether her parents would oppose an eventual "love marriage." The large dowry that the bride pays would really be the issue, she explained. I suggested that if she married a non-Indian, her family wouldn't have to pay a dowry and they might be satisfied. This is when the subject of dating white boys arose. Although she hasn't tried such, she is convinced that all white boys cheat on their girlfriends. Sheela and I tried to paint a more multi-hued picture for her, probably to limited success. Teenagers are difficult in India, as well. The evening featured a family gathering (many relatives) and a presentation of white gold ear-rings in commemoration of Sheela's return after many years without seeing her. Sheela's uncle explained to me that the Hindu religion is rapidly declining among Indian youth in India, but that the culture is still quite strong amongst Indian youth in the U.S. This is quite paradoxical and I'd be interested to know why this is the case. During the potluck, I was beginning to come down with a food poisoning that I must have gotten from some street food earlier that day or in Hampi. This placed me squarely in bed for a good solid 24 hours. Now, I'm back to 99% and ready to move on to Tamil Nadu.

Photos Uploaded--Finally!

http://picasaweb.google.com/wasabefire/SoutheastAsia

Diving: Similian Islands and Koh Bon (from Khao Lak)

I regret to say that my overland adventure is currently taking a brief sebatical. I flew from Siem Reap to Phuket (from which I took a taxi to Khao Lak) and I will be flying (today) to Singapore and tomorrow to India. Then overland adventure for a long, long time (I hope!).

I figured that I had a short time in Southern Thailand due to my added days at various points along my itinerary, so I might as well experience the best diving I can. This lead my to Khao Lak (thanks to Ashley's suggestion), the gateway to the Similian Islands (among others). I met Keith on the plane and he wanted to get is Open Water Diving certification, so the two of us shopped for courses together and ended up with Big Blue Diving, which offered a 3-day course (one day in the classroom and pool and the next two days on a live-aboard boat).

A small head/chest cold was my only concern and it prevented me from descending on my first dive, so I had myself a small snorkeling adventure and scared the ___ out of my instructor, because she couldn't find me as I'd lost track of time. My next dives went smoothly. The fish were terrific (snappers galore, pufferfish, etc., squid (amazing creatures), boxer shrimp, huge sea aenemone and urchins) and the fan-like branch corals on several dives were incredible. The visibility was excellent (often 20-25 meters). The second day on my fourth Open Water dive, we saw a manta ray. Some divers have done thousands of dives and never seen one, but in the Similian Islands these are not uncommon. The creature was incredibly graceful and gave the impression of an alien spacecraft gliding through the deep. I decided to stay one final day and went straight into the advanced course for night diving. This was certainly an unforgettable experience (bioluminescence, solitude, and the threat of hidden corals), but with mask issues, I wasn't entirely happy on this dive. The next day, we were gliding through narrow passages between the classic Similian Island weathered granite boulders and then looking down at the tops of the same boulders with strands of marine plants growing on them...the variety of the dive made Christmas Point my favorite dive. Today, I let my blood decompress (nitrogen levels return to normal) and I walked along the beach before we headed to the market and cooked ourselves a feast with the Thai lady working at the hotel. I didn't think it was possible to spend ~$20 per person on a home-cooked meal in Thailand, but we proved that theory wrong (eating 3 king prawns a person, alongside pork steaks, pasta, and spicy Thai dip). I'm still in a food coma!

Siem Reap and Angkor

It's been a while since I've last posted. I've enjoyed writing the previous posts, but I was anxious to write this one. Here's why--the experience was amazing, but my words will do little to describe my experience here, neither in describing the temples nor my reactions to the tourist-instigated pity-begging which plagues all of Siem Reap, but particularly the entrances to each temple (Wat) site. Parents have trained their cute little children to engage the empathy of rich western travelers and sell trinkets such as wrist bands, etc. Their acts are incredibly convincing and it is nearly impossible to tell which people actually are in real need. The land mine victims playing music on the street were certainly an exception to the previous observations.

My bus travel to Siem Reap took me into a bus station which sold fried spider. A local bought one and entreated me to some of this delicacy. I tasted two of the eight legs. They were charred, but I could still feel a bit of the hair on the legs...the stomach was just too much, considering the fact that I had more hours on the bus.

My first day, I did much of the small curcuit at Angkor, by bike, but only made it to Angkor Wat itself just after dawn on the second day. Desiring more information, I joined a guided group at this point. The guide had unique insights because he'd been a monk for 6 years, enlisted upon the request of his parents (apparently this brings his parents good luck) and told by them that he should move on after 6 years. He is now married with a young child, but plans to go back to life as a monk when he is old again and his wife will become a nun. He enjoyed this peaceful life. Our guide described the Buddist religious stories depicted on the walls of Angkor along with other information. My lack of commitment to a specific guide enabled me to get a guide who was really good. The depictions of daily life around the Wat/Palace at Bayon/Angkor Thom were the most interesting to me. At the end of the day, we caught sunset at Bakkeng (along with hoards of others, but the people added rather than detracted from the scene). My favorite temple was Ta Prom (depicted in Tombraiders) which was not excavated as thoroughly as the others. Many large trees were left in place; their gnarled roots and trunks are inseparable from the stone structures at this point and lichen gives the stone a beautiful green color. I heard more birds calling from within this temple than I did in the jungles of Northern Laos...and for the arborists among you, Angkor is a jewel, with very old (labeled) trees that were protected for centuries because monks (rather than farmers) were residing in the region. Some latin names forthcoming, Jonathan.

The final day, we saw dawn at Angkor and then moved on to Bantea Srei, a smaller temple with some of the finest carvings along with some temples of the outer circuit and the land mine museum (a valuable and sobering stop for me, as I knew little about land mines). The multitude of road-side makers/sellers of palm candies was notable. They heat the sap and churn it before letting it dry in cookie-like circles. They were very tasty.

Back in Siem Reap, noodle bars enable one to avoid some of the Westerner-induced inflation of prices, but it's impossible to avoid all of it. After three days, I was ready to move on.

Central/Southern Laos & NE Cambodia

In Luang Probang, the first stop is the 5,000 kip (50 cent)plate of vegetarian buffet. After oversleeping my alarm, I found myself with an extra day in Luang Probang. I visited the Royal Palace, which offers some decent artwork and a French Colonial fusion with Lao decoration. The most interesting exhibit in the museum was actually the gifts given to the Lao royalty by various countries--opals and boomerangs from Australia, intricate carvings from China, etc...but the US gave a model of Sputnik and Apollo XIII..."yeah, we got to the moon first" it implied.

That evening, I participated in a cooking course in Luang Probang. I ended up making an amazing meal of sticky rice, luang probang chile sauce (mostly sweet, but amazingly good), panaing gai (a curry sort of dish), another type of curry, a vegetable with garlic sauce appetizer, and pork garb (the minced meat dish I described previously). Now that I have the recipes, you will have to experience my newfound exotic cooking skills. The only drawback of the course was that because I was the only student, they had pre-prepared a lot of the ingredients, so I was basically putting stuff in, but at least it was well explained what the ingredients were. I don't think I've ever been as full in my life as after this 5-course meal!

With over 30 monasteries, Luang Probabang seems to be a religious hotspot. There is a tradition in Luang Probang that the monks are fed by villagers as they walk to to the Wats each morning. I managed to get myself up the following morning to watch this and it was an event. The monks come with pots and villagers put rice and other goodies in the pots as they pass. I didn't participate because I hadn't figured out what offerings were appropriate and I didn't want to disrupt things by giving the wrong foods.

The rest of the day involved a long and tortuous bus ride to Veng Vieng, the party capitol of Laos. My plan had been to go tubing (foreigners come from all around the world for this experience...involving tractor tire inner tubes and many bars along the route). I planned to tube down the river without stopping at the bars, but since this is a daytime activity, my 4PM arrival was too late.

The next day, I took a kayak trip involving song-thau transport to Vientiane. The kayaking was outstanding. Limestone boulders lined the river channel and we tackled some seriously powerful class 2/3 whitewater at the lunch spot. Several kayakers were expelled from their ocean kayak vessels. While waiting for lunch, I swam through the rapids several times. After lunch, we cliff jumped at least 12 meters. I had to summon up the courage. I'm pretty sure it was the tallest cliff jump I'd ever done. The song-thau to Vientiane was painful...first the dust and then the smoking of the German travellers who were complaining vociferously about the dust (go figure).

As luck would have it, I arrived in Vientiane in time for the 3rd set of Federer-Nadal, but departed for my own 5-setter bus ride to Paxse. I had imagined that I'd take a sleeper bus (which puts you flat, but in very close proximity to the person next to you), but since I was late and bus was already pulling out as I arrived at the bus station, I just got into the bus. My first reaction was that there was no room on the bus, but I was shown to the back of the bus where 3 monks were seated and cargo was re-arranged to make room for my legs. Another man made room for himself next to me by moving some bags of rice into the isle. Next another person lay down on the rice bags. Finally, the rest of the isle was filled with small plastic chairs in which people sat. I quickly realized that I was stranded with no bathroom and I already had a tremendous need before the bus started going again. When nobody initially understood my problem, I resorted to nearly-lude jestures and the message got across. The bus driver pulled over and most people took advantage of the opportunity. I actually slept moderately well and by morning, the bus was only at U.S. "capacity." Daylight illuminated a starker countryside. Many of the trees had lost their leaves during these dry months and trees were widely spaced.

Apparently the only thing I'd learned from my first motorbike trip was that going with other people was "not a good idea" so this time I set out alone for the Bolaven plateau. I had very little information on the region. My first stop was phenomenal: a 100 meter high waterfall with a pool that enabled one to swim right up to the falling water. This was the first time I'd seen volcanic rock (basalt) in Lao. The remainder of my ride was rushed and the tremendous amount of slash-and-burn made the going tough on my eyes. At one point, I needed a screw driver to fix the basket on my motorbike and I ended up playing soccer with some Lao children before somebody helped me fix the bike.

The next day was on to Si Phan Don, where I was glad to be able to stop for a few days. These islands in the Mekong are paradise for the ultra-laid-back hippie backpackers because time is not really something that is considered, nearly any meal can be made "happy" (i.e. pot infused) for an extra $0.50, and bungaloes are cheap. Although I wasn't thrilled that my first lunch took 1.5 hours to serve and I wasn't into "happy" meals, I was really enjoying the islands. Don Dhet and Don Khon are both accessible by ferry from the mainland. Don Khon has a Niagara-style waterfall on its western periphery. I say "Niagara" because so much water comes through them even during the dry season. Don Khon also has a very nice bay on its southern side. The second day staying on Don Det, I realized that I would need potentially $35 at the border with Cambodia to get across and there are no ATM's on the islands. Thus, I started going bare bones on expenditures and started thinking about sticky rice only for lunch.

As luck would have it, I ended up befriending a local who was here (along with many other electrical engineers) to bring electricity in full force to these islands...a very recent development. I should mention that in spite of the new electricity, much of the islands are pitch black at night. These electricians were eating food...at first sticky rice, veggies, and a spicy chile sauce. The next course that came out was meat and dip. I tasted the meat and it reminded me of lamb. I asked what was and I was in complete dis-belief at the answer..."dog!" After pointing at the house dog (which will remain as such, not food), I finally realized that Cun meant what he said. The sauce was also somehow made out of dog. The dog meat tasted good, so I kept eating, and it was free protein. That night, I went to a "festival" with live music at the nearby Wat (yes, a party at the temple). The dancing style of the people was very laid-back and non-physical, a nice break from dancing scenes in the states.

Thankfully, the horror stories of overland border crossings to Cambodia in which significant bribes are necessary did not come to fruition. The border crossing was less money than anticipated and the unofficial, but required stamps required $1 each and were pocketed by the police officials, I'm pretty sure. After a long day of travel, I arrived in Kratie and made a bee-line for the Cambodian Rural Development Team (CRDT) office. They have a number of different projects going on, but I'd heard about a cycle to homestay program that somebody I'd het had done. She had gone all the way from Kratie to the Lao border by bicycle, but recommended that I just do the first leg from Kratie, since I would have to use a rental bike. Although warned that I would probably arrive after dark, the CRDT personel arranged the home-stay and I headed north along the Mekong as the sun drew toward the horizon. After about a third of the way to where I would have to take a boat, it was nearly dark and I reached a point where I had a view of the irrawady river dolphin (a semi-rare species). Here I was warned that I'd be riding a significant way in the dark. I pressed onwards on a bike with a fixed gear, seat adjusted for somebody too small for me, and no helmet. By about 7:30PM I made it to Sambour and met my courier. The homestay office in Samphin fed me dinner and took me to my homestay family. They ushered me into a beautiful little room, where I slept soundly. In the morning, I had a chance to "speak" using my Khmer cheat sheet. The family had 3 children, the daughter speaking he best English. I was the 6th person to do a home-stay with that family. I really liked them and have arranged for a water filter to be installed so that they don't have to use bottled water or boil drinking water. The CRDT office has a setup like this, whereby the pump takes water from the mekong and the filtration system purifies it (cost $15). This is the first time that I have felt like I've contributed a tangible positive to peoples lives and I think that I will save the family significant money and effort. Thus, I look forward to receiving an email with a photo of the family and installed water filter in the near future.

Today, I spent in a village even farther north where several project directors were trying to help the villagers use more agriculture and connect with the middle men and move away from reliance on the over-fished Mekong River (it's hard to catch large fish in this river these days). I sat watching an entire village including some children who were very attentive to the advice and organisational logistics provided by these project directors. Unfortunately, I could only understand the translations. In the afternoon, I journeyed back to Kratie and am here in town, writing this email. I'm heading to Siem Reap, tomorrow. Back to the tourist superhighway...after the peace and relaxation of small villages it might be a culture shock.

Northern Laos

Since my last post, I've had some of the most intriguing travel experiences of my life, to date! The journey from Chiang Rai to the Laos border at Huay Xia was uneventful. Upon arrival in Laos, I was struck by the distinct change in architecture from Western style of construction to bamboo (on the Lao side of the Mekong). Many dwellings were elevated (on posts) as if to avoid flooding, but I think that they actually use this "basement" for storage or cooking. I had lunch near the bus station, which consisted of the ubiquitous meat broth soup with chunks of meat and cabbage. Accompanying this on the side is a huge pile of vegetables, including lettuce, mint, and a few other greens that I believe grow near the rivers, but I don't know what they are.

The road from Huay Xia must have been a tremendous engineering challenge and I cannot say that it was an ecological success. The bedrock in this region varies from highly oxidized mudstone to completely disagregated gruss. When combining the rock type with the consistently steep and sinuous hillsides, any attempt to contour a road results in tremendous cuts in the hills (as no tunnels were attempted, for very good reason). These cuts in the hill slope create tremendous scars in the landscape and result in mudsides which had taken out parts of the road and further down slope during the wet season (May to October). That said, the road was impressively smooth and we made good time to Luang Nam Ta, a large village surrounded by hilltribe towns, known by pharangs (foreigners) as an ecotourism destination, which encourages tourism to this region in a sustainable manner (proceeds going to local guides, English speaking guides, and the hosting tribal villages).

The first day, I was reluctant to make use of guided tours, preferring to create my own interactions with the local people. I rented a bike and toured around the valley. The most remarkable thing that I saw was a pig being gutted in a river. Approximately 8 young men were surrounding the pig. Some of them held the legs of the pig, while one pulled out its intesties and stomach, leaving its heart visible. When we returned to the village, it was clear that a celebration had ensued, but we didn't have an excuse to join. During the course of this day, I only picked up one word of Lao, which is "Sabaidee" and it means "hello." The children here were so enthusiastic to see us and would say this word in an extremely endearing, high-pitched voice, which I would repeat back to them. This enthusiasm of the children and the unspoken communication between us continued to be a highlight throughout my stay in Lao. The people in the plain of the valley farmed many things, including rice, while nearly emaciated-looking dogs, fowl (turkeys, chickens, etc), boars, and water buffalo roamed freely in the towns.

As I made my way deep into the hills by bike, rustling in the thick vegetation at the side of the road initially startled me as I expected charismatic megafauna. It turned out that the people living in these villages were scavenging and farming. The principle item extracted were these fan-like plants which are used to make brooms. The formation of the brooms involves manual thwacking of the plant against a stone in order to extract some seeds. Many of the brooms are exported to China. By the time I'd made it as far as daylight allowed, I encountered a large group of children, who swarmed me and my bike. The experience made me want to spend more time in towns, so I signed myself up for a 2-day trek to the Pouban, Akha village.

Our group for the trip consisted of five people including myself (2 other Americans, an Israeli, and a Canadian). We started the trip with a trip to the day market, which featured a wonderous variety of food, from river fish 2-3 feet long to the traditional lau prepared dishes with bamboo, minced meat with mint and other greens prepared in seviche style (gaab), green and clear lau lau (the local moonshine whiskey which would later be foisted upon us in the Akha village), spit-fire-roasted bananas, and many other items. Once the guides had picked out the food for us, we drove about 20 minutes and set out into a thin jungle. We hiked slowly and the guide let us sample edible plants (most were sour and pointed out plants used for medicinal purposes (one for curing a stomach ache, another for relieving stress, another to make old men "strong"...aka herbal viagra, and a few others). We heard birds, but saw very few.

In the late afternoon, we made it to town and were all impressed by its size (66 houses) and it was centered about a high ridge. The most striking aspect about the town was the non-Orwellian Animal Farm appearance of the town. The farm animals were everywhere, constantly in search of some sort of food (which was in scarce supply). The elder villagers nodded their heads in greeting as we walked through the town and once again the younger ones were fascinated by us. They were playing with bamboo poles and at one point were making use of the elasticity of these sticks to perform some sort of pole vault. When I video-recored this, they couldn't get enough. I dropped my camera while showing them the video and the screen went snow white. Fortunately, the battery removal trick brought the camera back to life. Bamboo was once again used in all forms of construction in the village. In fact, the only balls in the town were made out of bamboo. We engaged some children with the ball, which they preferred to hit with their sticks than to kick. A few of the houses had recently-installed solar panels (the sole luxury in the town), providing enough electricity for a single light, I presume.

Dinner was prepared in a hut by a local villager and our guides Sing and Kong. Although our lunch had been served on large banana leaves, this was served on the table with plates. The ubiquitous sticky rice is used to eat the chunky tomato dish, the cabbage soup (with or without thinly sliced buffalo meat), smoked buffalo meat strips, and a delectable cabbage dish with some local veggies. The village chief ate dinner with us and after our bellies were satiated, we got to ask him some questions about his village. It turns out that he is one of 3 chiefs and he was chosen because he has the language and writing skills to be the liason with the Lao government. The village used to be located elsewhere, but about 3 years ago it was rebuilt in its current location. I asked about fires in the village as cooking occurs within bamboo huts. He said that before the village moved, two houses had caught fire. The village is growing (as evidenced by the plethora of very young children). It turns out that the village is even larger than we'd thought (over 600 people, meaning that the average dwelling holds ~11 people!). To the amusement of my comrades, I asked about contraception, which is not used in the village. However, the chief claims that they "follow the moon" and people cannot get pregnant when the moon is full...perhaps this explains the burgeoning size of the village. One oddity within the village are elevated mini houses large enough for two people in a horizontal position. These are used by "a young man and young woman" to sleep together only after a festival and we saw some sort of structure that had been erected for the purpose of the festivals. Village decisions are made communally (for instance, the decision whether or not to create another dwelling). Lastly, there is one dirt road to the village, but the villagers seldom go into town.

That night the villagers put on their best clothes for us (which I knew was to put on their best face and therefore bothered me slightly) and then we were all given Lao massages by some of the local girls. Once they departed, we went to sleep to the sounds of the village animals and awoke the next morning to the same. People were showering in the open village shower and heading out to the hillsides to collect and harvest while some others would head into the Nam Tha jungle to hunt (we heard several gun shots).

The departed the town and headed back a different way, this time into the depths of the jungle along a stream bottom. Our guide had asked whether we brought sandals. I thought we just had a stream crossing, but it turned out that we would be walking down river for about 1.5 hours. The water was cool and refreshing. We stopped at the end of the stream section and several of my companions pulled leaches off themselves. I had the largest leach and was able to flick it off, but blood came out of the wound for hours, due to the anti-coagulant.

That evening, we went to the local karaoke bar with our two guides. Sing tried whole-heartedly to sleep with one of my trekking companions, including inviting himself to watch TV in our guest-house hotel room. At one point, his proposition line was "just give me five minutes." And when that failed, he said "ok, half an hour." In spite of this, we enjoyed our guide, and his English was serviceable.

The next day was a long bus-ride on very bad roads to the beautiful, riverside town of Namb Khiau in the karst region north of Luang Probang. The next day, I set out on foot to a village about an hour walk north along the river. We were immediately accosted by somebody who clearly wanted to guide us. We ended up hiring his student to take us to a waterfall and back to the town to see the school. The student's English was minimal, but we saw what he was up against as his teacher's English wasn't much better. The guide took us by boat up river and we took a nice swim near some people who were river-"snorkeling" for green algae. We saw this algae drying on mats in the next town. I found a vendor in Namb Khiau who sold this green algae, fried with sesame and some oil...between us we placed four orders of this stuff it was so tasty! I enjoyed watching this same vendor make pad thai from scratch (in Laos it has another name, which I forget). The wonderful thing about this day was observing a Canadian teacher interact with the children. He would absolutely captivate the children, just by asking their names and repeating them, or simply by teaching them how to say hello and good-bye in Englsh. He would keep a completely straight face and the children were just enraptured.

Today, I took the boat down the Ou river to Luang Probang through scenic karst terrain. We went through numerous small rapids in this sleek, wooden boat and were lucky not to hit rocks which destroyed the rudder of the boat going down-stream the previous day (I only learned this AFTER my trip). My advice to the adventurous canoists out there. Paddle the Ou river from its northern end to Luang probang. You can buy a small vessel for $120 and stop at towns and explore. The river is peaceful and beautiful and the rapids are tame. There was a couple doing this and we passed them. It seemed like a wonderful adventure.

Well, here I am in Luang Probang enjoying a bit of French flavor and the full-blown assoult of tourism. I'll be heading south from here toward Cambodia during the next five days wishing my time here were weeks/months not days. My best to all of you!

Thailand: Bangkok and Chiang Rai

I'm in Thailand!! And things are well! Thanks to friends and family for such a nice send-off in Seattle and San Francisco. So, my first few days in Bangkok were rough. I won't go into the details, but the Japanese Encephalitis vaccination that I received the first day took my breakfast and lunch for a solid 24 hours. I was really fortunate to meet up with John Campion, a friend from Apple Hill. going way back! John's volunteering in the Peace Corps, where he had training and was staying at a very nice hotel on the river. We hung out with the volunteers for a few days and then spent a day at Chattuchat weekend market (definitely unlike anything I've seen back home) and at the Siam Paragon Mall where we saw a movie and experienced the traditional homage to the King of Thailand at the outset (everybody stands up). The overnight bus to Chiang Rai was really nice, so I actually got some sleep.

John headed up to his site (~30 km from the city) and I joined John's friend, Ashley to visit Chiang Rai. The first day, we went to the White Temple, which I have come to realize is truly unique compared to the traditional temples featuring a buddha in some posture and not much else. The architect and mural painter is the same person and I truly admired his work. One wall of the interior featured "good" and the other was probably "bad" -- the latter seamlessly integrating all kinds of things including, including the images of Bush, Bin Laden, airplanes involved in the 9/11 attacks, snakes strangling the burning twin towers, fed by the greed of the masses and their thirst for oil. I could have watched this for hours because I just kept seeing new things!

The next day, I took the bus up to some border towns (Chiang Saen and Mae Sae) along the Burmese/Laos borders, passing through the steamship prow temple at the "Golden Triangle."

After meeting two new friends, Galaad (French) and Chris (British), at the local hangout, we decided to rent motorbikes and head for the hills. The plan was to make a loop (about 190 km total). I had one map which showed the necessary roads and one that didn't, so we were rolling the dyce. By about 2PM, we were about half-way through the loop and in some really fascinating country. Our route went from wide 2-lane road to a small, windy road, which quickly turned to dirt as we started to enter hill tribe towns surrounded by terraced countryside. The people we saw were friendly and we passed one boy with a bat...he was sitting next to a leashed pig...your guess is as good as mine on this one. Well, we were just digging this road, until it suddenly was blocked with no way around for our bikes. We back-tracked and found an english-speaking man in the previous village. He told us that we could get to Chiang Rai along this river valley, but we'd have to take a boat to get to the road. He introduced us to some locals who we could hire to take our bikes across for us. After contemplating the risks of this crossing (to our bikes which were the keys to regaining our passports!), the point of no return, and the complete inadequacy of any map we had, we decided the rewards were too great to pass up and as Chris put it: "never have the Americans, French, and English made good decisions when together." After significant manoevering, we managed to get our bikes onto the opposite bank and continued onwards. The road became single-track and very slow going. Small stream crossings became frequent (good thing this was the dry season!) because we had to extract Galaad's bike from some drink that was trying to eat his wheels! Several times we walked our bikes (with motors on for power) up steep hills and coaxed our way down steep descents. At times, cows slowed progress as well. Daylight was beginning to wane and we had no idea how far we had to go. The low point was when Chris' bike slipped off the track and dropped about 5 feet down into some dense vegetation. After some serious effort, we got his bike back on track. We passed a few locals who consistently pointed the same direction when we mentioned Chiang Rai, so we had that going for us. We finally got to a village and local kids ran up and started playing with our bike horns. We played them a simple three-note song with our horns (the intervals were surprisingly close to 2nd's!). Well, I think I've painted enough of a picture of this adventure. I hope to post photos soon! We did get our bikes returned after dark, although when they saw our bikes caked in dirt, we were concerned they wouldn't pass the inspection, so it was a great relief when they put passports in our hands!

I've consistently enjoyed Thai ingenuity, which ranges from using tree branches to replace traffic cones, patches of jeans as coasters, etc...The Thai people have been incredibly friendly, I wish I had a bit more Thai, so I could effectively converse. I'm lucky when I have John around because he speaks well! I'm heading to Laos, tomorrow.

Bhut Jolokia

Bhut Jolokia of Assam in NE India is the world's hottest pepper coming in at a whopping 1,001,304 Scoville units (measures capsaicin, the chemical that results in the experience of 'heat').  To put that into perspective, the Thai hot chili comes in at a mere 60,000 Scoville units and the Jalapeno can't compare with 2,500-8,000 Scoville units.  With dangerously hot peppers and tremendous potential for adventure in the coming months, I hope to provide friends and family the curd that provides an insight into my journey-- an appetizing balance of stories, home stays, alpine experiences, and dare a say it, a minute amount of sight-seeing.  

Departure:  January 10th from Seattle; 13th from San Francisco.

Itinerary (at least I've got the countries and approximate order):  Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, southern Thailand, India, Nepal, China, (maybe Japan at the end).

Return:  Sometime...