My train arrived in Goa on the 9th of February at about 10am. It was hot and so many people were crowding the platform. I squeezed my way through the gate along with everyone else to find Suddah, the Yoga Magic driver, waiting for me, holding a sign w/ my name on it...baller! The resort is absolutely gorgeous, a complete 180 degree turn from where I had been staying. This is a yoga eco resort in the little of Anjuna in the state of Goa (I originally thought it was a town, silly rabbit). My room is a bamboo and grass hut in the middle of the rice paddy fields. My door closes, sometimes, and my windows are hope spaces in the sides of the hut. I sleep on a mattress on the floor withe clean sheets and a pretty red blanket, think, with golden stitched elephants. The resort is all outside, guests sleep in Rajastani tents and flowers and gardens swirl through out the premises. The walkways are composed of dung/grass/and wager and spread evenly to look like, and solidify similar to cement. An infinity pool rests to the side of the restaurant, overlooking the fields with crows, roaming cows, dogs, cats, parrots, and water buffalo. This is also an amazing place to watch the sunrise which comes up as a magnificent color of orange I have never seen in the States. There is a restaurant/eating area with tables and matts on the floor with orange bolsters and low tables so you can eat on the floor at with your hands (the RIGHT hand, I cannot stress that enough). When I arrived it was breakfast time which has a cold and hot component. Always, there is a buffet of chopped fruits (Banana, pineapple, chikoo, pomegranate, papaya, watermelon, and shaved coconut) as well as curd (buffalo curd), muesli and honey. Hot might be dal, french toast, eggs, whatever. MMM I can also get lassis (basically a yogurt smoothie) and chai/tea/coffee and toast.
Being that I am a volunteer, I get accommodation, food and yoga for free! I have class in the morning from 8-9:30 with Peter who is from the UK (Goa is a very touristy area, like, painfully touristy and westernized). I am sore in places that I've never felt before, or at least, in a long time; my upper abdominal, the inside of my thighs and the backs of my shoulders, it's amazing! I can even touch my toes now, which I don't think I've ever been able to do.
The second night Krishna, a local energy cleaner, came and had a workshop in the outdoor yoga space. He works by cleaning out the energy remaining from past diseases/ailments/drug use, whatever. I did not understand this at that time and at the end Tania, another guest that I've gotten close to (mother of two and originally from Sri Lanka bun living in the UK) asked me how I liked it and if I felt anything. I started to try and say that I was frustrated because I had no idea what was going on and immediately got very upset; my eyes welled up with tears and my voice started wavering. I had no idea I was THAT upset! The more we discussed it, it was more that maybe that is an energy blockage that I'm trying to work through within myself and that's how my body was expressing it, however, after the workshop was when I opened up to the experience rather than during it.
I've been trying to become more aware of my body and mind-the thoughts that arise, feelings, sensations, emotions, whatever. I know that a lot of people would listen to these things and think it's a scam and crazy talk, but I'm really finding it interesting and some sort of connection. Th main stream public doesn't think twice about instinct and intuition, right? That gut feeling you have about person, place, situation, etc. I think this cleansing, healing, kandalini, seeing energies and oras, it's just another level of that intuition, ya? There are a couple people here that are very in touch with themselves spiritually, Eva from Germany and Tania's sister, Fiona. When I talk to them, even now writing, I get this stranger feeling on the top part of my head, like when your hairs stand up on your arms, and it travels down my jaw and half way down my spine-I don't know what this means, if anything, but I'd like to explore it more.
I hung out by/in the pool most of the day and had a meeting with Phil and Juliet, the owners, as well as Katie and Steve, two other volunteers. Katie is from LA but went to school is Welesley in Boston and is my age; Steve is a photographer in his 30's from the UK. Basically, the plan for the next few days was to get the place ready for a big party they were having on the 14th (Valentine's day). A Love Party, not for couples, but a celebration for ourselves and the world. This is actually a very auspicious cosmic day, the dawning of the age of Aquarious (seriously) where certain planets were aligned. The next few days consisted of a lot of cleaning, making bamboo frames, signs for the party and going to the market in Mapusa (a nearby Goan town) for supplies. I went with Fareda, one of the Indian workers, because she is good with bargaining. We found out early on that I had to walk away and pretend like I didn't know her so she could get the real price and not the tourist price; shows how much I get screwed daily!
The party, itself, was interesting. Everyone had to dress in white, no cameras,, shoes, or alcohol allowed. It started with a Mayan chant around the fire praying to the seven directions (North, West, East, South, Gods above, Nations below, and ourselves) and then there was dancing in the restaurant area Rave style with a pumped beat and bodies flaily in the motion that they were inspired, not the bump 'n grind that I'm used to seeing, just everyone letting go. At ten we all sat on the floor in rows and had dinner doled out to us India style; we each had a plate and the workers came around with buckets and scooped out rice, dal, beetroot salad, poppadoms and green beans, which we then ate with our hands and licked our fingers (everything Westerners are taught not to do).
Afterwards, a guitarist played who was absolutely genius and a woman showed a movie she made about fire along with an interpretive dance. By this point,, everyone was exhausted, covered in gold glitter, and on their way home. I was so tired because I was nonstop all day-two hour morning run, worked until the party started at five and then mingled from there.
Since then everything has been a lot more relaxed. Working here and there in the garden, working more on updating my blog and updating pictures and reading. I've also been working on conquering my fear of driving. Katie and I are sharing a moped and I've used it a few times. The roads are tiny and twisting, plus traffic flows on the left so it's been a challenge. The other night Katie and I got lost at about midnight and we were really pretty scared. Two guys stopped and one stood in the middle of the road, undoing his belt and yelling "I want to suck you!" we bolted. I could help but laugh at jumbled up vulgar phrase, though. The next morning we heard that there have been incidences where girls at night have been pulled off of their bikes, good thing we didn't know about that then or really would have freaked out!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Sleeper train from Hell
The overnight train from Mumbai to Goa....not the most delightful experience I've had on this trip, that's for sure. I took a cab from the Salvation army to the bus station; the driver was sweet and the doorman at the SA gave me a warm send off. However, once I was drowning in the sea of people in the station, everything changed. As soon as I got out of the taxi, three guys were trying to pick up my bag to "help" me to the train. The cab driver had to help me get them away. Afterward, one of the security guards told me that I had to go up the stairs to the number gate I needed. What? That doesn't make sense? Maybe it's a sitting room until the train arrives? Nope. I walked up four flights of stairs with all of my luggage until someone else asked me what I was doing. Turns out, I think the guard was trying to tell me to go behind the stairs, which is where the entrance to the trains is located--miscommunication, how I loathe you. I had to walk maybe two blocks through a dimly lit parking area in order to get to the tracks.
Though the train wasn't to leave for at least an hour and a half, hundreds of people were packed onto the side of the tracks, waiting. When it arrived, I started walking down the train to find my sleeper car. On my way, I probably looked confused because I kept checking my ticket and the sides of the cars to decipher the right one. An Indian guy kept trying to help me carry my bag, again, and I kept saying that I was fine, but he followed me onto the train. At this point, I was the first one on, which I knew could be a potentially bad situation. He sat across from me and just stared. He asked if I was married and I said yes, holding up my left hand where I conveniently wear my mother's ring. Still, he sat there. A beggar boy then sat on the other side of me with his hands out, muttering in Hindi. No matter what I said, neither would go away. I put my book in front of my face and kept saying "Go away, go away, go away, go away," pretty much stomping like a four-year old. Finally, the beggar left and, after a long, uncomfortable silence, the other man did, as well, but only after shaking my hand goodbye. Not a friendly one, though, he gave me the finger palm push--you know, when one finger is poked into your palm and somehow makes you feel violated to the core, yeah, that handshake. I ripped my hand away and yelled at him like a dog that just peed on the carpet.
NO! BAD! You don't do that. VERY BAD. NEVER do that!
He ran away from me in a hurry. Watch out for the white girl with a temper! I then crawled up to my "bed" which is a solid mattress just large enough for me and my bag if I lied on my stomach and bent my knees. I stayed there nearly the entire trip because I felt so awkward and too uncomfortable to come down. I saw bugs crawling in and out of the bed around me and all up and down the walls. Maybe they're just over on THAT side of the train, and not in my bed...
The next morning I watched people rustling around, eating samosas and other random food then throwing the trash out the window! Trash is everywhere here, there aren't waste baskets anywhere that I can see, it's odd. I've been carrying wrappers around forever because i don't know where to put them, but it's common practice here to throw it anywhere. I was brave enough in the late morning to try the toilet (or rather, I had to pee so badly that I was forced to get off of my safe haven and walk through the car); whatever comes out of you goes down the toilet and onto the train tracks...I'm not even going to attempt to get out my feelings on that. On my way back all the men were staring at me for obvious reasons (one of these things is not like the other) and being that I was already tense, I reverted back to the US response, " Um, can I help you" - enter attitude and sarcasm here. This, obviously, doesn't work when the person you're talking with doesn't have a high level of English comprehension. More staring. Ugh, never mind. I crawled back to my bed and didn't move. The highlight of this trip was my arrival in Goa. Yoga Magic, the place I was to be volunteering, had a driver waiting for me at the station, my name was on the sign and everything! Phew.
Though the train wasn't to leave for at least an hour and a half, hundreds of people were packed onto the side of the tracks, waiting. When it arrived, I started walking down the train to find my sleeper car. On my way, I probably looked confused because I kept checking my ticket and the sides of the cars to decipher the right one. An Indian guy kept trying to help me carry my bag, again, and I kept saying that I was fine, but he followed me onto the train. At this point, I was the first one on, which I knew could be a potentially bad situation. He sat across from me and just stared. He asked if I was married and I said yes, holding up my left hand where I conveniently wear my mother's ring. Still, he sat there. A beggar boy then sat on the other side of me with his hands out, muttering in Hindi. No matter what I said, neither would go away. I put my book in front of my face and kept saying "Go away, go away, go away, go away," pretty much stomping like a four-year old. Finally, the beggar left and, after a long, uncomfortable silence, the other man did, as well, but only after shaking my hand goodbye. Not a friendly one, though, he gave me the finger palm push--you know, when one finger is poked into your palm and somehow makes you feel violated to the core, yeah, that handshake. I ripped my hand away and yelled at him like a dog that just peed on the carpet.
NO! BAD! You don't do that. VERY BAD. NEVER do that!
He ran away from me in a hurry. Watch out for the white girl with a temper! I then crawled up to my "bed" which is a solid mattress just large enough for me and my bag if I lied on my stomach and bent my knees. I stayed there nearly the entire trip because I felt so awkward and too uncomfortable to come down. I saw bugs crawling in and out of the bed around me and all up and down the walls. Maybe they're just over on THAT side of the train, and not in my bed...
The next morning I watched people rustling around, eating samosas and other random food then throwing the trash out the window! Trash is everywhere here, there aren't waste baskets anywhere that I can see, it's odd. I've been carrying wrappers around forever because i don't know where to put them, but it's common practice here to throw it anywhere. I was brave enough in the late morning to try the toilet (or rather, I had to pee so badly that I was forced to get off of my safe haven and walk through the car); whatever comes out of you goes down the toilet and onto the train tracks...I'm not even going to attempt to get out my feelings on that. On my way back all the men were staring at me for obvious reasons (one of these things is not like the other) and being that I was already tense, I reverted back to the US response, " Um, can I help you" - enter attitude and sarcasm here. This, obviously, doesn't work when the person you're talking with doesn't have a high level of English comprehension. More staring. Ugh, never mind. I crawled back to my bed and didn't move. The highlight of this trip was my arrival in Goa. Yoga Magic, the place I was to be volunteering, had a driver waiting for me at the station, my name was on the sign and everything! Phew.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Incredible India
Next big step! I Arrived in Mumbai, India on February 5th (sorry for the blogging delay, my computer died the day I left Thailand, so this is going to be a bit more difficult, now). The flight was pretty short, I think only 5 hours, if that? On the plane, I was seated next to an older Indian man (probably in his 50's) who told me a lot about places to see and dangers and annoyances of the culture and country. He walked me through immigration and waited with me at baggage claim. He even gave me his number, as well as his wife's, in case I were to get into trouble in India--the kindness of strangers! It was interesting, however, to notice the different between the way he treated me as opposed to the staff of the airplane. Where, with me, he was very polite and informative and curious, he was completely opposite with the polite and accommodating staff. When dinner came, the steward informed the man that there were only vegetarian options left; he immediately got heated, "well that's not MY problem, that's YOUR problem, I don't want a vegetarian option, find me Lamb." It was extremely awkward; when the steward looked at me I said that veg was fine (what's the big deal?). This happened numerous times with drinks and needing ice or soda or what not. I actually noticed this behavior a lot over the next few days in India, well-to-do locals treating those in the service industry like serVANTS...disgusting.
We arrived at 9:30pm and I had no idea where I was going to stay, so at baggage claim I started looking for people that might be backpackers (the tell tale signs are big rucksacks, baseball caps, and the thoroughly confused expression while looking around a room for comprehensible signs). I scouted out two guys that could be helpful; the first was a Canadian who was in India on business so he had no clue and the second was my savior. My only other hope was a blond haired guy who looked like he was in his mid 20's. I asked if he was a backpacker and he immediately knew that I had no idea where to stay. He was really nice and was cool with me sticking around him; we just had to wait three hours for his girlfriend's plane to arrive from Germany. Whatever!
The Mumbai airport was the least stressful experience I'd ever had upon entering a foreign country They have pre-paid taxis, so no one is hassling you to buy anything--it was like a breath of fresh air (though there is none of that to be had in this city). However, there is no inside waiting area. Hundreds of people are outside the exit waiting for friends and loved ones. We took a seat on the curb and chatted about running marathons and traveling until his girlfriend showed up. We got into a taxi, which is an old vehicle that looks like it's out of the 50's and barely starts and he brought us to Colaba--the area with a lot of accommodation and just really the place to be (this is also where The Taj hotel is--where the Mumbai shootings occurred recently). The Salvation Army was full (the Backpacker haven), so he stopped at another guesthouse where another man said there was a free double and single room--yes! We had to walk up four flights of stairs which were SO dirty; I was told that it would be bad here, but I had no idea to the extent. There were dirt piles and bags of who knows what on the windy stairs--cracked cement and graffiti everywhere. When we finally got to the top the man at reception said it was full--what??? Lairs! When we got back down, the taxi was obviously gone so, we made the same guy show us a new place, which, luckily, did have vacancy. My room was a cell. If I stood up and put my arms straight out I could touch either wall. Ok, not bad, whatever. However, the sheets were NOT clean--I slept on my towel due to the discovery of little hairs on my bed-goo, gross. The next morning I ran over to the Salvation Army to get an open bed. It's not clean by any Western standards, but much better than the "Delight Guest House." I was in a dorm room with maybe 20 beds and one bathroom--water and dirt everywhere but at least my sheets looked clean.
I decided to go for a walk and was asked by a stranger, right outside of the hostel, if I wanted to be an extra in a Bollywood film that night--uh, yeah! 500 Rupees (10 bucks) and free dinner; I'm in! To kill time until the meeting at 5 pm I went for a little walk around the area. An older man (Indian and around 50 years old) started walking next to me, asking how I liked his city. I said I didn't really know since I just showed up. He kept walking with me and trying to have a conversation but I was a bit on my guard. He obviously understood how I was feeling because he started saying that he had children and no interest, he just canceled a meeting and wanted someone to talk to. I decided getting some lunch with him wasn't a bad idea, so he brought me to Leopold's cafe which is a very popular spot because it A) has a great location on the main road of Colaba for people watching B) was where the author of "Shantaram" hung out and C) was a scene where the Mumbai terrorist shootings took place. There are still bullet holes in the glass--it's a very sad and eerie feeling when you look over your shoulder and see a hole in the wall. Turns out Sanjay works in the Indian stock market and is quite well off. He paid for my lunch and insisted on giving me a tour of the city--you can call me naive if you want, but I had a good feeling so I figured, why not? He picked me up in his car and brought me through the government area, the floating gardens which are on top of a water reserve tank and has many shrubs sculpted into animals, onto the edge of the Arabian Sea which has large cement structures leading to the water that look like massive jumping jacks and also to see the floating mosque which is surrounded by water when the tide comes in. He got me back just in time to get on my bus to the Bollywood set for the movie "Purple Lake." A group of about fifteen Westerners participated as extras in a club scene. We were dressed in all black--I was put in a heinous spandex number with gold sequins around the bust and a slit in the back up to my bum. I HAVE a hot black dress with me dying to be worn, I could have brought that! Grr. Oh well. They also didn't have shoes to fit my Flintstones Feet so I had to wear my flip flops (ha). All night we sat around with spurts of dancing; I was paired with this extremely hot and yoked up Indian dude, nice to look at but had nothing to say-awkward. The shoot moved incredibly slowly; apparently there really isn't a strict time line in order to get things accomplished. The dancers were learning and practicing the moves between every shot; they never had any rehearsals! That's just crazy to me; but I guess it's their time and money that's being wasted, that would just not fly anywhere else that I know of. Filming wrapped up at around 3:30 am and we were bused back o Colaba. We had to pound on the door to get in because we were not aware that the entrance was locked at midnight--whoops. Flashed those pearly whites and had no problem:)
I passed out for a few hours and then Sanjay picked me up for a bit more sightseeing at a Buddhist temple right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city as well as to a mall to try local foods. I had Pani Buri, which are fried dough cups with a spicy sauce in it and a bunch of other fried doughs with sauces. All of which is eaten with your hands--your RIGHT hand to be precise because the left is your "poo" hand. After which, I told him I was exhausted and really needed to sleep. It took a bit of convincing, but he brought me back so I could rest. At this point I really hadn't slept much in the past four days and was getting a crazy cold; I slept for a total of 17 hours, I knew I was sick and tired but I didn't realize I was that exhausted. When I got up the next morning I wondered around all day and with to a music/art festival called Kala Ghoda. There were a lot of locally made goods being sold; bags, art, journals, etc and a few stages for music , theater, and dance. That evening, I was sitting in the crowd when a female singer, Sabitha, came out on stage and everyone went NUTS! Turns out, she's really famous, like, the Brittney Spears of India. The music was very up beat but is nothing like what you'd hear in the states--high pitches, abrupt vibrato and awkward chords that seem to clash but work. I had to cut the performance short in order to go to my overnight train to Goa, where I would be staying and working, kinda, for the next month.
We arrived at 9:30pm and I had no idea where I was going to stay, so at baggage claim I started looking for people that might be backpackers (the tell tale signs are big rucksacks, baseball caps, and the thoroughly confused expression while looking around a room for comprehensible signs). I scouted out two guys that could be helpful; the first was a Canadian who was in India on business so he had no clue and the second was my savior. My only other hope was a blond haired guy who looked like he was in his mid 20's. I asked if he was a backpacker and he immediately knew that I had no idea where to stay. He was really nice and was cool with me sticking around him; we just had to wait three hours for his girlfriend's plane to arrive from Germany. Whatever!
The Mumbai airport was the least stressful experience I'd ever had upon entering a foreign country They have pre-paid taxis, so no one is hassling you to buy anything--it was like a breath of fresh air (though there is none of that to be had in this city). However, there is no inside waiting area. Hundreds of people are outside the exit waiting for friends and loved ones. We took a seat on the curb and chatted about running marathons and traveling until his girlfriend showed up. We got into a taxi, which is an old vehicle that looks like it's out of the 50's and barely starts and he brought us to Colaba--the area with a lot of accommodation and just really the place to be (this is also where The Taj hotel is--where the Mumbai shootings occurred recently). The Salvation Army was full (the Backpacker haven), so he stopped at another guesthouse where another man said there was a free double and single room--yes! We had to walk up four flights of stairs which were SO dirty; I was told that it would be bad here, but I had no idea to the extent. There were dirt piles and bags of who knows what on the windy stairs--cracked cement and graffiti everywhere. When we finally got to the top the man at reception said it was full--what??? Lairs! When we got back down, the taxi was obviously gone so, we made the same guy show us a new place, which, luckily, did have vacancy. My room was a cell. If I stood up and put my arms straight out I could touch either wall. Ok, not bad, whatever. However, the sheets were NOT clean--I slept on my towel due to the discovery of little hairs on my bed-goo, gross. The next morning I ran over to the Salvation Army to get an open bed. It's not clean by any Western standards, but much better than the "Delight Guest House." I was in a dorm room with maybe 20 beds and one bathroom--water and dirt everywhere but at least my sheets looked clean.
I decided to go for a walk and was asked by a stranger, right outside of the hostel, if I wanted to be an extra in a Bollywood film that night--uh, yeah! 500 Rupees (10 bucks) and free dinner; I'm in! To kill time until the meeting at 5 pm I went for a little walk around the area. An older man (Indian and around 50 years old) started walking next to me, asking how I liked his city. I said I didn't really know since I just showed up. He kept walking with me and trying to have a conversation but I was a bit on my guard. He obviously understood how I was feeling because he started saying that he had children and no interest, he just canceled a meeting and wanted someone to talk to. I decided getting some lunch with him wasn't a bad idea, so he brought me to Leopold's cafe which is a very popular spot because it A) has a great location on the main road of Colaba for people watching B) was where the author of "Shantaram" hung out and C) was a scene where the Mumbai terrorist shootings took place. There are still bullet holes in the glass--it's a very sad and eerie feeling when you look over your shoulder and see a hole in the wall. Turns out Sanjay works in the Indian stock market and is quite well off. He paid for my lunch and insisted on giving me a tour of the city--you can call me naive if you want, but I had a good feeling so I figured, why not? He picked me up in his car and brought me through the government area, the floating gardens which are on top of a water reserve tank and has many shrubs sculpted into animals, onto the edge of the Arabian Sea which has large cement structures leading to the water that look like massive jumping jacks and also to see the floating mosque which is surrounded by water when the tide comes in. He got me back just in time to get on my bus to the Bollywood set for the movie "Purple Lake." A group of about fifteen Westerners participated as extras in a club scene. We were dressed in all black--I was put in a heinous spandex number with gold sequins around the bust and a slit in the back up to my bum. I HAVE a hot black dress with me dying to be worn, I could have brought that! Grr. Oh well. They also didn't have shoes to fit my Flintstones Feet so I had to wear my flip flops (ha). All night we sat around with spurts of dancing; I was paired with this extremely hot and yoked up Indian dude, nice to look at but had nothing to say-awkward. The shoot moved incredibly slowly; apparently there really isn't a strict time line in order to get things accomplished. The dancers were learning and practicing the moves between every shot; they never had any rehearsals! That's just crazy to me; but I guess it's their time and money that's being wasted, that would just not fly anywhere else that I know of. Filming wrapped up at around 3:30 am and we were bused back o Colaba. We had to pound on the door to get in because we were not aware that the entrance was locked at midnight--whoops. Flashed those pearly whites and had no problem:)
I passed out for a few hours and then Sanjay picked me up for a bit more sightseeing at a Buddhist temple right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city as well as to a mall to try local foods. I had Pani Buri, which are fried dough cups with a spicy sauce in it and a bunch of other fried doughs with sauces. All of which is eaten with your hands--your RIGHT hand to be precise because the left is your "poo" hand. After which, I told him I was exhausted and really needed to sleep. It took a bit of convincing, but he brought me back so I could rest. At this point I really hadn't slept much in the past four days and was getting a crazy cold; I slept for a total of 17 hours, I knew I was sick and tired but I didn't realize I was that exhausted. When I got up the next morning I wondered around all day and with to a music/art festival called Kala Ghoda. There were a lot of locally made goods being sold; bags, art, journals, etc and a few stages for music , theater, and dance. That evening, I was sitting in the crowd when a female singer, Sabitha, came out on stage and everyone went NUTS! Turns out, she's really famous, like, the Brittney Spears of India. The music was very up beat but is nothing like what you'd hear in the states--high pitches, abrupt vibrato and awkward chords that seem to clash but work. I had to cut the performance short in order to go to my overnight train to Goa, where I would be staying and working, kinda, for the next month.
Going out with a Bang(kok)
The day after seeing the Angkor Wat temples, I left early in the morning to get back to Bangkok. Luckily, the ride back is significantly easier, faster, cheaper, and less stressful than getting into Cambodia. This time, I stayed right off of Khao San road which is the party/tourist/Cancun-like area of Bangkok. I checked into some random cheap place and took off in order to find Lilly and Katie. It took no time at all to find them; we ate some dinner and went on to a little drinking and the highlight of the evening...a Ping Pong show--nothing like what you've seen on Forrest Gump. These ladies do something a little more interesting with the little white plastic balls. All along Pad Pong (an area with a night market off of Silom Road) there are bars with a few naked girls on stage doing tricks with their lady parts--and it all starts with the famous ping pong ball.
WARNING: I'm going to get mildly graphic here, so children under the age of 18 should probably not read this part:)
A woman sits on stage naked and, ahem, open, and proceeds to shoot ping pong balls at the audience--we're talking long distance here. Like, I was at least 20 feet from her and she almost pegged me in the face. Luckily, thanks to all of my years of competitive athletics, I have quick reflexes, because otherwise I just may have vomited. Other such tricks included, but were not limited to, using chipsticks to pick up rings and place them on the neck of a bottle, pulling out a long string of razor blades (and then cut up a piece of paper to show that they are real), and smoking a CIGAR (brings a whole new meaning to lip cancer). I'm not quite sure why this is a favorite dirty past time of the Thai, or maybe it was something crazy that they made up because they knew tourists would pounce...either way, I'm happy to say I've been there, but I don't think I'd jump at the chance if it re-presented itself. What a way to finish my time in Thailand.
WARNING: I'm going to get mildly graphic here, so children under the age of 18 should probably not read this part:)
A woman sits on stage naked and, ahem, open, and proceeds to shoot ping pong balls at the audience--we're talking long distance here. Like, I was at least 20 feet from her and she almost pegged me in the face. Luckily, thanks to all of my years of competitive athletics, I have quick reflexes, because otherwise I just may have vomited. Other such tricks included, but were not limited to, using chipsticks to pick up rings and place them on the neck of a bottle, pulling out a long string of razor blades (and then cut up a piece of paper to show that they are real), and smoking a CIGAR (brings a whole new meaning to lip cancer
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Cambodian Chaos
I left the ladies on the 29th of January to try and get to Siem Reap, Cambodia in order to see the Angkor Wat temples. I was on the bus to Vientienne and decided to stay over night. I quickly dropped my bags off in a hostel and ran to the bus station to get my next ticket. Silly, silly me, I forget, in my haste, to grab a business card. Uh oh. On the way back to the hostel (which is MAYBE 6 blocks away) I got painfully lost, in the dark, and couldn't even remember the name of the guest house! After walking around for a while, I ended up crying to the reception desk of some hotel. I knew that if I could find the same map I could find the place...no dice. Somehow, after three people, along with myself, stared at another map for 20 minutes I figured out where I thought the hostel might be. The pointed me in the right direction and I somehow found the place after about two hours. Phew. Highlight to the evening; upon my return I realized my room had air conditioning AND cable...WITH HBO!
The next day I took a series of three buses; starting at 7:30 am, I went from Vientiane to Khon Kaen, then to Kolas, Thailand and finally to Aranya Pratthet. The final bus basically brought me to the Cambodian border and dropped me off on a dark street at 10 pm. Luckily, a bunch of Thais also got off and one spoke enough English to help me find somewhere nearby to sleep; he carried my bag, got my room, and everything. I've found that the locals really are extremely helpful to lost tourists; lucky for me, eh? I got up at 8 am in order to get to the boarded when it opened at nine. This entire day was so shady. I sat in the "Cambodian consulate" to get my visa which was basically a tent over some picnic tables. he didn't rip me off, though, which i was sure was going to happen, and I got through the border so it must've been legit. My options to get to Siem reap were either a bus at 2 pm or a taxi for three dollars more with three strangers that were supposedly waiting. i went with the driver to the Thai departure and then we had to walk across a bridge and through a market to get through the Cambodian arrivals. This took about forty-five minutes. I stupidly paid up front for the taxi--luckily, he was true to his word and was waiting or me outside. Then, I had to get on a bus to the main station and there I waited for about an hour for the three others that were supposedly waiting. i got a little frustrated with the driver, so he stopped playing Mr. Nice guy and put me in a cab with another driver who was leaving "right away" but had to go pick up someone. We went back to the boarder and as soon as the old driver was dropped off the car died. Great. He got it started again and we were off to pick up his sister, after which, we sat at a mechanic for 45 minutes. I thought this was one of those bus scams that i read about in Lonely Plant where they make your trip as long and uncomfortable as possible in order to make you stay in their guesthouse of choice and make some money. However, his sister was getting angry impatient, as well, so turns out these problems were legit. We finally got on our way, but, after a half hour the car started bucking again, so we pulled off and he paid another cab driver to take us. I piled into a cab with two Thai women, a Thai guy, and a monk (sounds like the start of a bad joke, doesn't it?) for a two hour ride down the bumpiest dirt road I've ever seen. Bumpy doesn't even begin to describe it--massive dirt mounts is more like it. Drivers here also don't care too much about staying on the correct side of the road or passing when there's no oncoming traffic--its like they're constantly playing chicken. everyone is always honking and no one is phased.
On the way, I talked to the original driver's sister because she had had three years of English in school. She is 25 and went to University in Siem Reap to be an accountant, but now lives in Poipet (the Cambodian Boarder) with her family because her dad won't let her move. She almost started crying when she told me that all she does is cook and clean and go to the market--she doesn't go out or have any friends. She asked me for my e-mail address so she could write me and practice her English--of course! It's hard for me to understand what it would be like to not be able to do what i wanted--if my parents said I couldn't move (which they wouldn't) I'd laugh and keep moving without any problems. I wonder what that says about our culture? The move from family to individualism...
When we finally got to SR, the cab driver tried to drop me off in some random corner of town where about eight Tuk Tuk drivers started yelling at me through the windows to get into their ride. I refused. I yelled at the driver to leave my bag.
I paid you a lot of money! I don't have any more you have to bring me to this hostel! You brought everyone else where they wanted to go; bring me there. I'm not moving.
I sat with my arms crossed while the driver walked around smoking a cigarette. Once he had finally finished, he got back into the cab and drove me to my desired location. The hostel only had one room which was located in the attic; I had to walk through a storage room to get to it and there was no window--sold. I really didn't care at this point.
I only had one full day in Siem Reap in order to see the Angkor Wat Temples. I had met three Irish people the night before that were willing to share their Tuk Tuk guide with me so i wouldn't have to pay 15 dollars on my own. Unfortunately, my alarm didn't go off and I woke up an hour late :(. This turned out to be a blessing disguise because I wouldn't have been able to ride with them anyway, the driver refused, and I decided to rent a bike for two dollars like I originally wanted. I watched the sunrise while biking which was relaxing. I had a bit of trouble getting there, however, damn sense of direction. I was told to go straight...straight turns into a dead end! I go back a few Kilometers and find out I was supposed to turn left at the roundabout. I knew I was supposed to buy a pass before I got to the temples and that it would be "obvious"..not at 7 am, my friends. I got all the way to Angkor Wat and hat to turn around, halfway back the way I came on another road, to get the pass. I started crying, again,, to the security guard and he was trying to cheer me up. How emotional I've been the last few days! Finally, 20 dollars later, I get to the temple and can actually enjoy it. They were absolutely stunning. Massive concrete temples with moats and gates that are over grown with trees and grass and are half crumbled. I first went to Angkor Wat, the main and more famous temple. The entire structure, which looks almost like a castle, is completely symmetrical. I probably spent the most time wondering around the internal buildings and aisles. After, I biked around to a few more temples, Bayon being my favorite, which is covered in stone faces. Pictures, here, are a better description than my words, so make sure you check out my flickr page to see the 117 pictures I took during the day :)
Every time I stopped to lock up my bike, I was surrounded by children trying to see me water, food, bracelets, and books. They are all adorable, intelligent, and incredibly difficult to say no to. However, if you give in, you're going to empty out your wallet. It's hard to be patient after a long day of biking in the sweltering heat and humidity, but you have to remember that they are doing what their families have told them to do in order to make a living.
The next day I took a series of three buses; starting at 7:30 am, I went from Vientiane to Khon Kaen, then to Kolas, Thailand and finally to Aranya Pratthet. The final bus basically brought me to the Cambodian border and dropped me off on a dark street at 10 pm. Luckily, a bunch of Thais also got off and one spoke enough English to help me find somewhere nearby to sleep; he carried my bag, got my room, and everything. I've found that the locals really are extremely helpful to lost tourists; lucky for me, eh? I got up at 8 am in order to get to the boarded when it opened at nine. This entire day was so shady. I sat in the "Cambodian consulate" to get my visa which was basically a tent over some picnic tables. he didn't rip me off, though, which i was sure was going to happen, and I got through the border so it must've been legit. My options to get to Siem reap were either a bus at 2 pm or a taxi for three dollars more with three strangers that were supposedly waiting. i went with the driver to the Thai departure and then we had to walk across a bridge and through a market to get through the Cambodian arrivals. This took about forty-five minutes. I stupidly paid up front for the taxi--luckily, he was true to his word and was waiting or me outside. Then, I had to get on a bus to the main station and there I waited for about an hour for the three others that were supposedly waiting. i got a little frustrated with the driver, so he stopped playing Mr. Nice guy and put me in a cab with another driver who was leaving "right away" but had to go pick up someone. We went back to the boarder and as soon as the old driver was dropped off the car died. Great. He got it started again and we were off to pick up his sister, after which, we sat at a mechanic for 45 minutes. I thought this was one of those bus scams that i read about in Lonely Plant where they make your trip as long and uncomfortable as possible in order to make you stay in their guesthouse of choice and make some money. However, his sister was getting angry impatient, as well, so turns out these problems were legit. We finally got on our way, but, after a half hour the car started bucking again, so we pulled off and he paid another cab driver to take us. I piled into a cab with two Thai women, a Thai guy, and a monk (sounds like the start of a bad joke, doesn't it?) for a two hour ride down the bumpiest dirt road I've ever seen. Bumpy doesn't even begin to describe it--massive dirt mounts is more like it. Drivers here also don't care too much about staying on the correct side of the road or passing when there's no oncoming traffic--its like they're constantly playing chicken. everyone is always honking and no one is phased.
On the way, I talked to the original driver's sister because she had had three years of English in school. She is 25 and went to University in Siem Reap to be an accountant, but now lives in Poipet (the Cambodian Boarder) with her family because her dad won't let her move. She almost started crying when she told me that all she does is cook and clean and go to the market--she doesn't go out or have any friends. She asked me for my e-mail address so she could write me and practice her English--of course! It's hard for me to understand what it would be like to not be able to do what i wanted--if my parents said I couldn't move (which they wouldn't) I'd laugh and keep moving without any problems. I wonder what that says about our culture? The move from family to individualism...
When we finally got to SR, the cab driver tried to drop me off in some random corner of town where about eight Tuk Tuk drivers started yelling at me through the windows to get into their ride. I refused. I yelled at the driver to leave my bag.
I paid you a lot of money! I don't have any more you have to bring me to this hostel! You brought everyone else where they wanted to go; bring me there. I'm not moving.
I sat with my arms crossed while the driver walked around smoking a cigarette. Once he had finally finished, he got back into the cab and drove me to my desired location. The hostel only had one room which was located in the attic; I had to walk through a storage room to get to it and there was no window--sold. I really didn't care at this point.
I only had one full day in Siem Reap in order to see the Angkor Wat Temples. I had met three Irish people the night before that were willing to share their Tuk Tuk guide with me so i wouldn't have to pay 15 dollars on my own. Unfortunately, my alarm didn't go off and I woke up an hour late :(. This turned out to be a blessing disguise because I wouldn't have been able to ride with them anyway, the driver refused, and I decided to rent a bike for two dollars like I originally wanted. I watched the sunrise while biking which was relaxing. I had a bit of trouble getting there, however, damn sense of direction. I was told to go straight...straight turns into a dead end! I go back a few Kilometers and find out I was supposed to turn left at the roundabout. I knew I was supposed to buy a pass before I got to the temples and that it would be "obvious"..not at 7 am, my friends. I got all the way to Angkor Wat and hat to turn around, halfway back the way I came on another road, to get the pass. I started crying, again,, to the security guard and he was trying to cheer me up. How emotional I've been the last few days! Finally, 20 dollars later, I get to the temple and can actually enjoy it. They were absolutely stunning. Massive concrete temples with moats and gates that are over grown with trees and grass and are half crumbled. I first went to Angkor Wat, the main and more famous temple. The entire structure, which looks almost like a castle, is completely symmetrical. I probably spent the most time wondering around the internal buildings and aisles. After, I biked around to a few more temples, Bayon being my favorite, which is covered in stone faces. Pictures, here, are a better description than my words, so make sure you check out my flickr page to see the 117 pictures I took during the day :)
Every time I stopped to lock up my bike, I was surrounded by children trying to see me water, food, bracelets, and books. They are all adorable, intelligent, and incredibly difficult to say no to. However, if you give in, you're going to empty out your wallet. It's hard to be patient after a long day of biking in the sweltering heat and humidity, but you have to remember that they are doing what their families have told them to do in order to make a living.
Who are you calling a Laos?
I stood outside with another Kelly I met at the start of the race (she took first in the 30-39 age category); we were talking and holding our trophies when a group of Americans that had run the half walked by. One of the guys congratulated us and asked if we rant the half or the 10k. Umm, the full, actually :) He was a little embarassed. They ended up coming back a few minutes later; Bryan kept trying to apologize but we told him it was really no big deal. We got to talking and it turned out that they were all studying in Bangkok but were going to Laos for a few days--me too! Bryan invited me along with them so I figured why not? After quite the ordeal of trying to find them--losing their number, wrong bus and bus station, I finally found them and we left for Vientienne, Laos.
The bus took about four hours and we had a lot of trouble at the boarded because one guy, Erk, didn't realize he had overstayed on his visa for almost two weeks, so he owed 11,000 baht to the Thai government--hah. We ended up being left at the Laos boarder along with all the other tourists and had to take a Tuk Tuk to our hostel, a 20 minute ride. This is one of their fun tricks to make you spend more money. Luckily, there were 14 of us in total so it didn't cost too much--no fun if I had been by myself.
We dropped all of our stuff off at the Selom Yen Guesthouse and took a little night wlaking tour of the city. Bryan has been living in Southeast Asia for a few years and knows, the Thai and Laos languages so he knows a lot of people in the area. We went to his friens place around the corner and his mother ended up feeding us all of this Lao vegetarian food with a lot of rice, vegetables, mushrooms and tofu--DELICIOUS. I was starving at this point from the race so it was perfect. We all tried to go out to a bar with live music but were pretty tired so left after about an hour.This is the first country I haven't seen million of 7-11s, Buger Kings, Mcdonalds or any other American franchise. It was so refreshing to be away from that.
The next day we did a little sight seeing--the morning market (which was pretty similar to any other market I've been to--food, crafts, faux designer duds, etc), Patuxay, and the Golden temple. After lunch. Bryan, Shannon , Wally, and Ii decided to go for a little spa treatment. We went to a sauna that was so hot you could hardly breath inside and afterwards went to geth Thai massages. I was on a mattress on the floor along with Wally, Shannon (a guy) and Nuum. These girls are tiny, but don't let the size fool you, they have no trouble bending and throwing you around. Shannon was laughing the entire time because he is ticklish absolutely everywhere. There is a point when you're lying on your stomach and they have you grab their hands and they stretch you into a backwards arch; Nuum accidentally let go and the girl went flying to the ground! A few minutes later, I get tapped on the shoulder and Wally says something about feeling really awkward. i look to see the girl basically straddling him--kneeling on his upper thighs. everyone was laughing and wally had to roll over for, ahem, male issues...HA!
That night we tried to do some Chinese New Year celebrations, but the city was a bit dead and we wound up at a bowling alley until 12:30 and called it a night. Bryan, Shannon and I got up at 6 am to go for a little job around Patuxay the next morning when the city was peaceful without horns honking and tuk tuk's heckling--perfect. After the run, Jeff, Shanon, Erik and I were all treated to a free traditional Vietnamese meal at Bryan's friend's mom's friend's restaurant (got that?). Noodle soup and pork noodle egg rolls--not spicy like Thai cuisine. The interesting thing about the food here is that you can literally taste every ingredient--here's some pork, there's basil and a hint of lemon-grass--all of it! For the last event of Vientienne, we all went to the shooting range where we all picked a gun and got five bullets for less than two dollars and no paperwork to fill out--this would never fly in the states. My aim isn't too bad, either; I used a rifle and got all 5 bullets in the target!
I left them at two to catch a bus to Vang Vieng to meet up with Lilly and Katie. the bus was small and packed with falangs (tourists)--I seriously thought it was going to roll over on some of the sharp turns. We got there in one piece, luckily, and Lily was waiting for me. We got some food and headed out to Jaidee's bar. This is a very small party town filled with bars, internet cafes, and Friend's restaurants where the tv sitcom Friends is always playing. Basically everyone goes out at night and tubes down through the river bars during the day--not the most cultural of experiences but entertaining to say the least. I ended up sleeping on the floor of Lilly and Katie's room for 10,000 kip a night--that's a little over a dollar. Gotta love Southeast Asia!
Food Corner
Kai Louk--Literally translated this means Egg child--a hard boiled egg with a half developed fetus in it--petrifying to look at but tastes like a hard boiled egg with the essence of Grandma's friend chicken (it's a little crunchy in the yolk due to tiny bones).
Taste: 2
Aftertaste:1
The bus took about four hours and we had a lot of trouble at the boarded because one guy, Erk, didn't realize he had overstayed on his visa for almost two weeks, so he owed 11,000 baht to the Thai government--hah. We ended up being left at the Laos boarder along with all the other tourists and had to take a Tuk Tuk to our hostel, a 20 minute ride. This is one of their fun tricks to make you spend more money. Luckily, there were 14 of us in total so it didn't cost too much--no fun if I had been by myself.
We dropped all of our stuff off at the Selom Yen Guesthouse and took a little night wlaking tour of the city. Bryan has been living in Southeast Asia for a few years and knows, the Thai and Laos languages so he knows a lot of people in the area. We went to his friens place around the corner and his mother ended up feeding us all of this Lao vegetarian food with a lot of rice, vegetables, mushrooms and tofu--DELICIOUS. I was starving at this point from the race so it was perfect. We all tried to go out to a bar with live music but were pretty tired so left after about an hour.This is the first country I haven't seen million of 7-11s, Buger Kings, Mcdonalds or any other American franchise. It was so refreshing to be away from that.
The next day we did a little sight seeing--the morning market (which was pretty similar to any other market I've been to--food, crafts, faux designer duds, etc), Patuxay, and the Golden temple. After lunch. Bryan, Shannon , Wally, and Ii decided to go for a little spa treatment. We went to a sauna that was so hot you could hardly breath inside and afterwards went to geth Thai massages. I was on a mattress on the floor along with Wally, Shannon (a guy) and Nuum. These girls are tiny, but don't let the size fool you, they have no trouble bending and throwing you around. Shannon was laughing the entire time because he is ticklish absolutely everywhere. There is a point when you're lying on your stomach and they have you grab their hands and they stretch you into a backwards arch; Nuum accidentally let go and the girl went flying to the ground! A few minutes later, I get tapped on the shoulder and Wally says something about feeling really awkward. i look to see the girl basically straddling him--kneeling on his upper thighs. everyone was laughing and wally had to roll over for, ahem, male issues...HA!
That night we tried to do some Chinese New Year celebrations, but the city was a bit dead and we wound up at a bowling alley until 12:30 and called it a night. Bryan, Shannon and I got up at 6 am to go for a little job around Patuxay the next morning when the city was peaceful without horns honking and tuk tuk's heckling--perfect. After the run, Jeff, Shanon, Erik and I were all treated to a free traditional Vietnamese meal at Bryan's friend's mom's friend's restaurant (got that?). Noodle soup and pork noodle egg rolls--not spicy like Thai cuisine. The interesting thing about the food here is that you can literally taste every ingredient--here's some pork, there's basil and a hint of lemon-grass--all of it! For the last event of Vientienne, we all went to the shooting range where we all picked a gun and got five bullets for less than two dollars and no paperwork to fill out--this would never fly in the states. My aim isn't too bad, either; I used a rifle and got all 5 bullets in the target!
I left them at two to catch a bus to Vang Vieng to meet up with Lilly and Katie. the bus was small and packed with falangs (tourists)--I seriously thought it was going to roll over on some of the sharp turns. We got there in one piece, luckily, and Lily was waiting for me. We got some food and headed out to Jaidee's bar. This is a very small party town filled with bars, internet cafes, and Friend's restaurants where the tv sitcom Friends is always playing. Basically everyone goes out at night and tubes down through the river bars during the day--not the most cultural of experiences but entertaining to say the least. I ended up sleeping on the floor of Lilly and Katie's room for 10,000 kip a night--that's a little over a dollar. Gotta love Southeast Asia!
Food Corner
Kai Louk--Literally translated this means Egg child--a hard boiled egg with a half developed fetus in it--petrifying to look at but tastes like a hard boiled egg with the essence of Grandma's friend chicken (it's a little crunchy in the yolk due to tiny bones).
Taste: 2
Aftertaste:1
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)