September | 2009 | Robert Francisco

Archive for September, 2009

Bus ride

Posted in 2009 Asia, Uncategorized on September 20, 2009| 3 Comments »

Kathmandu to Langtang trek

rop of our bus

Top of our bus

September 19, 2009

I booked my first trek with a company that an very friendly Australian couple is also using. We were both very impressed as the owner of the company (Chandra) took a call during our morning tea and immediately excused himself to coordinate a helicopter rescue (acute mountain sickness, and possible pulmonary edema) from the remote Kingdom of Upper Mustang. We were supposed to have dinner with Chandra later that evening but word came that weather delayed the chopper and thus we were to proceed to his home where his family would host us; he would join us upon his return. After I thought dinner had been served, dinner was served; we ate for something like an hour in the comfort of a Nepalese home, and the food was simply and wonderful.

At dinner I got to know David (from Australia) a bit. David is enjoying a new life after being nearly completely incapacitated and paralyzed for 3 years due to an unusual disease he secured while performing military duty in Somalia. He did not go into what exactly he was doing in Africa, but my impression was that David was no ordinary foot soldier. Anyway, with an injection once a day to the abdomen he is nearly symptom free and we had a good chat about what is “important” and also about moving beyond unexpected divorces. He and his partner (maybe wife) are going to Everest base camp, which I am also planning in a few weeks time. “I am looking at this as a test – how does my new body (this guy is crazy big and fit) adapt to altitude, and how well do my limbs actually work outside of the gym. If all goes well, I may try an attempt at Everest in a few years – interested?” To which I replied: “Please due not ask my questions like this…I am weak”.

September 20, 2009

Exactly how can a bus ride that is less than 120 Kilometers take 9 hours? Well, first you have to get the cows loaded on top of the bus (I am not kidding here people), then you must check each passengers ticket 6 times, add 70 bodies to the inside of the bus (maybe 30 seats), put another 30 on top, and start to leave a dozen times over the first 45 minutes. Once moving, travel along a one lane road that has vertical drops, landslides, and other hazards to many to mention; seriously, if this road was in the U.S it would be rated as “high clearance 4wd drive only”. When the spotter slaps the bus hard once the driver heads, and stops immediately; you may have a passenger to let off/pick up, you may have lost part of your top load (we lost some furniture and a crate of chickens), or you may be about to go loose a tire into the abyss (the buss before us did indeed drop a tire over the edge and the Italian lady who described how “Everyone pilled to the high side while the boys on top balled off and pulled the bus back to the road” was still shaking as she retold the story). Two slaps means proceed. Angin argued constantly with the porter about my bag on the floor as they wanted it on top with the cows. I think he ultimately paid a bribe but my bag was close by at all times and ultimately served as a seat for 3 elderly mean and a couple of kids. I meanwhile practice a new yoga position of placing my knees against my ears and holding them there for several hours as the young guy behind me vomited out the window. It was a rather “rich” cultural experience and I enjoyed smiling at the young Hindi girl that sat and Angin’s lap as we listened to first on-board entertainment complete with some sort of 3 string instrument, followed by some really bad Nepalese rap (complete with English mixed in) that blared over the broken speakers.

We stopped for lunch and I without knowing quickly secured that “You have got to be kidding me look” when Angin assured me if was “Ok Sir“. Pretty good actually as I used a fork and those around me placed loads of Dal Bhat (lentils, curried potatoes, and white rice) into their mouths. I went down stairs to the open pit toilet immediately under the restaurant and adjacent to the owners living quarters and said to myself “if this is ok, I am certainly going to die”.

Traveling along we picked up more passenger, but, how I do not know. We also dropped people and supplies off and every time they dropped a 30 liter propane bottle from the bus’s roof I cringed. We stopped along side the road and we (all hundred plus of us) peed together. I think the cows shit in place and I KNOW the chickens did. Reloading was a process but after climbing over young, old, pretty and ugly, I found my seat, amazingly empty, and ready for more yoga.

September 21, 2009

POST EDIT (Do not read if you are offended by profanity)

“Oh fuck, mother fuck…protect you head, fuck, my hip-oh shit, you head your head -protect your head; second bounce – my ribs- fuck your ribs protect your head, your head…quiet”. Upside down, suspended in vines, 15 meters lower than I had been 2 seconds prior as I crossed a small water fall bisecting the trail. “Shit, don’t look down- next fall puts you into a class 6 rapid and you will not survive that. Grab vines, grab vines, hold on.” Angin is trying to get to me and yelling for other porters we know are behind us. “Angin, I am ok….likely hurt….need help.

Regrettably I would like to tell all of those I have loved, love, and will love, along with all of the deities of the world that, unfortunately – not once, not even for a millisecond did I think of any of you while I was falling. I am sorry! No, I did not think “ I hope you know I love you” (but I do nonetheless) and no I did not look to Siddhartha for strength, I did not ask Brahma to protect me, I did not seek council from Yahweh, and I certainly did not ask my personal savior Jesus Christ to save me. Rather I was 100% into me, fully selfish and self centered. In other words. I did not give a flying fuck about anything beyond myself and trying not to die. So that crap about you life flashing before you eyes and all….maybe so for others, but I now dispute it.

Moments before I was thinking that I like my new Vasque trail shoes; not as well as my old faithful Montrail Hard Rocks… but solid. The only problem I had noted was the Vibram sole are by nature hard and therefore slippery. Who actually cares if the soles will last 5000 kilometer? The shoe will be worn out in 1000k – give me a soft, sticky rubber that is not slippery”. Ultimately however, and as these thing go, the fall was completely my fault. I was on the outside edge of a water fall trying not to get wet and had completely failed to realize the magnitude of the risk as the drop was obscured by heavy vegetation. With the help of 3 porters and my friend Thomas from Denmark I was freed and pulled back to the trail. Amazingly, I didn’t think anything is broken; but I knew I was going into shock so I tried to walk whiling doing U.S. Dollar to Nepal Rupee calculations in my head. The trail was extremely steep and the adrenaline had completely drained my energy – I could go no more than 10 steps and I was doubled over my hiking poles panting for oxegen. 30 minutes later, I knew I was beyond the risk of significant shock but I was starting to swell and am now wondering if I will be able to move in the morning. Emotionally I felt awful as Anjin was beside himself with remorse and guilt. As we continued to hike, the rain intensified and I was a dripping, limping, bleeding, ballooning mess. Angin took charge and the next rest stop we reached he ushered me inside and rapidly stoked the fire, got a wool cap on my head, and gave me a coke. After an hour, I was calm and Angin was post cardiac arrest so we headed farther up towards our nights lodgings. I think I am basically, and amazingly, whole. I may have a bruised or even cracked rib…or two, or three, and my hip now appears to have a small pumpkin attached to it, but hey I am fine. A bit concerned about things internal, but hours have passed now, so If I am bleeding inside out, well, at least it is slow…right?

Besides that and a bee sting it was a great first day to my Himalayan trekking. Seriously, this was a simple accident on a simple piece of trail and this is what happens in life, with or without your permission. What is the bumper sticker? Oh you know the one.

Angin argued constantly with the porter about my bag on the floor as they wanted it on top with the cows. I think he ultimately paid a bribe but my bag was close by at all times and ultimately served as a seat for 3 elderly men and a couple of kids. I meanwhile practiced a new yoga position of placing my knees against my ears and holding them there for several hours as the young guy behind me vomited out the window. It was a rather “rich” cultural experience and I enjoyed smiling at the young Hindi girl that sat on Angin’s lap as we listened to first on-board entertainment complete with some sort of 3 string instrument, followed by some really bad Nepalese rap (complete with English mixed in) that blared over the broken speakers.

We stopped for lunch and I, without knowing, quickly secured that “You have got to be kidding me look”, when Angin assured me if was “Ok Sir“. Pretty good actually as I used a fork and those around me placed loads of Dal Bhat (lentils, curried potatoes, and white rice) into their mouths. I went down stairs to the open pit toilet immediately under the restaurant and adjacent to the owners living quarters and said to myself “if this is ok, I am certainly going to die”.

Traveling along we picked up more passenger, but, how I do not know. We also dropped people and supplies off and every time they dropped a 30 liter propane bottle from the bus roof I cringed. We stopped along side the road and we (all hundred plus of us) peed together. I think the cows shit in place and I KNOW the chickens did. Reloading was a process but after climbing over young, old, pretty and ugly, I found my seat, amazingly empty, and ready for more yoga.

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On my way up

Posted in 2009 Asia, Nepal on September 19, 2009| 2 Comments »

September 19, 2009

September 20, 2009

September 21, 2009

POST EDIT (Do not read if you are offended by profanity)

Thamel, Kathmandu, Nepal

Simply a cool looking goat in the high country

I booked my first trek with a company that a very friendly Australian couple is also using. We were both very impressed as the owner of the company (Chandra) took a call during our morning tea and immediately excused himself to coordinate a helicopter rescue (acute mountain sickness, and possible pulmonary edema) from the remote Kingdom of Upper Mustang. We were supposed to have dinner with Chandra later that evening but word came that weather delayed the chopper and thus we were to proceed to his home where his family would host us; he would join us upon his return. After I thought dinner had been served, dinner was served; we ate for something like an hour in the comfort of a Nepalese home, and the food was simply and wonderful.

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Anjin the Sherpa – now guide

Posted in 2009 Asia, Nepal, Uncategorized on September 19, 2009| 8 Comments »

Kathmandu, Nepal

September 19th

Steamed vegetable momos and a coke from a bottle that is so worn it is nearly opaque – now this is living; 65 rupees. Momo are like dumplings or maybe think of a pot-stickers that are steamed rather than fried. Served with a spicy peanut sauce and eaten immediately out of the steamer basket. We scored these at a place no bigger than a closet with a curtain for a door, and a few broken stools along a wall that had a board attached above to serve as plate and soda shelf. This was certainly out of my comfort zone, but Patrick who is a Burmese American, from Sacramento of all places, was confident; “They are so hot, nothing can live through that”. Best meal of my trip.

Because it is festival time in Nepal, we had to check several banks to find cash; a lot of locals are moving about the country creating a paper money shortage as they make withdrawals from the banks. Hey, at least they trust their banks with their money.

I needed cash as I am leaving the city tomorrow and entering a completely cash economy.

My first trek is to Langtang. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langtang ,and thus you will not see any updates to this journal for several weeks. I am going as an independent with a porter/guide named Anjin who just last week he passed his guide license. He is a small man in stature standing about 5’2” and weighing maybe 120lbs but clearly of man of big heart and strength. Now my kit is light, but when Anjin assured me that he could easily carry 30 Kilo over any pass in the Himalaya I new he was not kidding. I told him I was out of shape and was viewing this as a 14 day warm up trek, to which he replied “That will not be a problem sir, if you get tired I will carry you also”. I then inquired if I needed a map to which he replied “oh no Sir, these are my mountains, I know them”.

Patrick, Anjin, and I went on a bit of a shopping trip together as it has been recommended that we treat our water with Iodine rather then buy the plastic bottles. This recommendation is two fold: First, someone has to carry that plastic water into those mountains therefore it is expensive. Second, most of those damn plastic bottles never get carried out resulting in a huge environmental problem. I like how these guys are thinking. So, I needed a metal water bottle because in addition to Iodine, sometimes you get boiling water poured into the bottle which also serves as a purification measure; plastic will not work. Though the back streets we roamed until we came to a small outfitter who had what we needed. And because Anjin was with us, no negotiation needed-the first price was the good and more than fair price.

After we dropped Anjin off, Patrick and I went to explore the back alleys of Kathmandu. We had a good time and went down a few streets that are best left to traveling with two or more. It was wildly interesting, the people were all smiles and gracious while we discussed the advantages and disadvantages of these types of communities verses the west. Patrick, being from Burma, had an incredible perspective as he has lived on both sides of this equation. He loves California with its independence and valued self promotion but is concerned that the trade off regarding loss of community and family causes other social problems. We agree on much, question some, and depart being richer fro the momo and the conversation.

kathmandu skyline

Kathmandu skyline

I needed cash as I am leaving the city tomorrow and entering a completely cash economy.

My first trek is to Langtang. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langtang ,and thus you will not see any updates to this journal for several weeks. I am going as an independent with a porter/guide named Anjin who just last week passed his guide license. He is a small man in stature standing about 5’2” and weighing maybe 120lbs, but clearly of man of big heart and strength. Now my kit is light, but when Anjin assured me that he could easily carry 30 Kilo over any pass in the Himalaya I new he was not kidding. I told him I was out of shape and was viewing this as a 14 day warm up trek, to which he replied “That will not be a problem sir, if you get tired I will carry you also”. I then inquired if I needed a map to which he replied “oh no Sir, these are my mountains, I know them”.

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Sari, bindi, and monkey

Posted in Nepal on September 17, 2009| 2 Comments »

There is something about a beautiful women donned in a gorgeously flowing and brightly colored sari riding side saddle on a motorcycle that is well, just something to behold. Add a bindi low on her forehead indicating she is likely single, and well, one can only fantasize. As I looked at one such women, I realized she new she was beautiful; not that she thought she was attractive in some western boob job way, but rather that she inherently just knew; knew at a core level. When she clasped her hands, smiled, and bowed I only had one thought: God, I would love to have that type of grace in my own life.

A good many or maybe most, I believe, of the motorcycle flying around are actually local taxi. I have not jumped on the back of one yet, but yes I plan to. And boy can these people ride. Remember what I said about South Korea and the crazy driving? I was wrong, very very wrong. The people of Kathmandu would eat the Korean’s lunch in any kind of driving competition. That whole thing about cross walks, traffic lights, and side walks was a fantasy from another time and place. There is a system however. I hired a rickshaw for an hour and requested that he simply return to the same spot (I could see my room). thus avoiding getting lost again. Priorities go like this: motorcycles, cars, bicycles, rickshaws, carts (you name it, they push it), pedestrians, goats, dogs. Oh yea, cows can do what ever the hell they want; the Hindu’s believe they are holy and many Buddhist don’t eat em. When walking and you come to a hill, it is considered good manors to help push the rickshaws along. I like pushing rickshaws.

Left at sunrise for the pilgrimage with the locals to the Monkey Temple. 365 steps that were more like a ladder as I dripped sweat like a Harley leaks oil. Amazing place where Hindu and Buddhist worship side by side in this joint (coexistence note to: Christians, Jews, and Muslims) temple atop a hill over looking the Kathmandu valley. Holy men offered prayer and comfort for those in need, monks chanted while fondling prayer beads, dogs ate from trash piles, candles burned by the thousands, incence filled the nostrils unil they burned, and monkeys also did what ever the hell they wanted.

A land of extremes; yes it can be hot, humid, filthy, poor, and depressing, but it is comfortable, beautiful, and alive. A land of faith where over a thousand people met at the temple before 8am to turn prayer wheels, sprinkle rice offerings on the monuments, and pay homage to their past, present and future. Where parents hold their children lovingly while they sweep the dirt street in front of their homes and places of work – where everyone on the street offers a friendly “Namate” (meaning- the divinity in me bows to the divinity in you). I love this country, these peopleM

Monkey Tempel, Kathmandu, Nepal

Hindu women and child at Monkey Temple

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A tale of two rooms

Posted in 2009 Asia, Nepal, Uncategorized on September 17, 2009| Leave a Comment »

Thanel Distric, Kathmandu, Nepal

I was not worried about security, but that was the scariest place I have ever lay my head. The hotel where I tried to stay was fully booked, but they offered to put me up next door and allow me to use all of their facilities; fair enough as their place was pretty nice. Next door, however, was differnt. Having not slept for well over 30 hours, I did not care as I handed over my $9,000 rupees (~$12,00USD). Where to start with this room – I am pretty sure it had not been occupied for months, the toilet seat was dangling beside the crapper, the shower had a steady stream of water coming out the only hole in the head that flowed any water, and the bucket on the floor was there, I presume, to catch the water as the drain could not keep up with even this minimal flow. The bed was basically a platform with a blanket and I would have broke out the thermarest and slept on the floor had I been coherent. The sheets were torn and stained, but appeared clean. The electrical outlets and most of the lights did not work…… I could go on, but why. I slept hard.

It happened AGAIN. This time it took a bicycle rickshaw to delivery back to my room as I got hopelessly lost. And again, I was less than a block away from my room, but with the night falling, and the hashish salesman coming to the streets, I got intimidated and sought help for 100 rupees.

The food at the preferred hotel was great as I enjoyed vegetable curry and flat bread for dinner, and a honey/banana crepe with really good black coffee for breakfast. Just as I was leaving, I met a nice couple who had booked two rooms at the desirable place but only needed one of them. Thus the offered me the other room. Great, but the hotel would have nothing of it; I am pretty sure they were over-booked and this was going to save them. That combined with the fact that I mistakenly told them I did not want to book a trip with them, made me a non-prospect for additional revenue. So I headed down the road and found a beautiful place for about double the money and booked in for two nights. I wanted to stay for 4-5 but they are full later in the week. This could work out great as I can write multiple reviews as I am forced to move from room to room around the city.

I need to get to a bank today and stock up on cash; should be interesting. I know, how could that be interesting? Well, just getting to the bank will be filled with sights, smells, and sounds the challenge and tilt my western mind’s experience bank. I in the reasonably deep third world now. And all that intellectual bullshit we talk about back home regarding appreciating how fortunate we are – well, it gets real real and moves from the mind to the heart as I am immersed verses watching it on the discovery channel.

outside first room

View from my first room

second room view

View from current room

I need to get to a bank today and stock up on cash; should be interesting. I know, how could that be interesting? Well, just getting to the bank will be filled with sights, smells, and sounds thar challenge and tilt my western mind. I in the reasonably deep third world now. And all that intellectual bullshit we talk about back home regarding appreciating how fortunate we are – well, it gets real real and moves from the mind to the heart as I am immersed verses watching it on the discovery channel.

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First Impression: OMFG

Posted in 2009 Asia, Nepal on September 16, 2009| 5 Comments »

Thamel/Kathmandu, Nepal

Remember that movie, you know the one, where the guy is stuck in the airport and can not get out of “no man’s land” – between the country and the airplane. I was that guy. I arrived in Singapore in the wee hours of the morning and my back pack had not been checked through . So to retrieve my bag , I needed to go through immigration, get my bag, check my bag for the next leg and return through immigration. /Easy. I existed no-mans land and readily found my bag. Problem, baggage check-in was closed and they guys with machine guns told me I could not stay in this area.. No problem, I go would upstairs; no you can not stay here either, but you can go through immigration and have your passport stamped for departure, and you can stay at the gate. Now those of you who know something about international travel just figured out that I was about to screw up. Back through immigration with my pack and my carry-on with a plan to check my bag in the morning.. I executed the plan and nearly qualified for “locked up abroad”. “You have all ready left the Country and can not return and leave again”: “WHAT?“ Ok, no problem. I will check my pack on this side….not an option. I will check it at the gate….not an option because you have to go through security and they are never going to allow those hiking poles, Swiss Army Knife, large bottle of sun screen – besides your pack is to big. Like I said, I was that guy. Fortunately Sara had given me her bracelet that she made of wooden prayer beads during her Buddhist retreat. “For good Karma, and safe travels” was her parting comment. So I closed my eyes, ran each bead through my fingers slowly and said “I am leaving this up to you, as I am sure you have a plan but it seems like I am kinda screwed here; any help is greatly appreciates” As my flight approached departure time no solution was apparent , and while everyone was very kind, no one had any real good ideas. Inspiration: I cranked all of the straps down on my pack, and expelled all the air from the dry bags and I put more duct take over the tips of my hiking poles. I then waited for the line to subside, walked up to the X-Ray machine like I owned her, ””Is this your pack Sir”, “Yes it is” as I took it off the ramp smartly and carried my entire kit onto a completely full plane. Oh yea, I now have some very sharp objects, and other contraband on this flight, as I write this entry. I was feeling pretty smug with myself until I remembered that I turned this one over: “Hey, good plan, thanks for the help”,

At about 3am, before realizing I was actually in a jam, I found a small corner upstairs and wrapped myself in a fetal position around my gear. Now, without my glassed I cannot see…. Literally, and it is one of my real fears -glasses separation. But when I suddenly woke around 4am, I could tell they where in uniform, four of them, had guns, on a mission, and they were heading straight for me. I snapped to full attention, and kept my hands very visible. “Passport and boarding pass, Cross reference his passport number against the boarding pass. No problem, sorry to have bothered you Sir” :“Oh that is OK fellas , thanks for asking”. I am just glad they had not embraced everything American as I had visions of Dick Head Chaney exposing the need and virtue of “enhanced techniques” Not sure who or what they were looking for but I was glad it was not me as these are not the donut eating rent a cops from Sacramento’s NON-international airport. Screw sleeping, just give me coffee.

So I have been up for something like 26 hours now (less the short -pre interrogation nap). I have a simple mission for today: Get 90 day Nepal visa,, get Nepalese Rubes (hope ATMs work better than in Korea) get a taxi to Thamel district of Katmandu, find a room, Sleep.

Remember that movie, you know the one, where the guy is stuck in the airport and can’t get out of “No man’s land” – between the country and the airplane, but not in either? I was that guy. I arrived in Singapore in the wee hours of the morning and my back pack had not been checked through . So to retrieve my bag , I needed to go through immigration, get my bag, checked for the next leg and return through immigration. Easy. I existed via immigration and readily found my bag. Problem; baggage check-in was closed and the guys with machine guns told me I could not stay in this area. No problem, I go would upstairs; no you can not stay here either, but you can go through immigration and have your passport stamped for departure, and you can stay at the gate. Great. Now those of you who know something about international travel just figured out that I was about to screw up major. Back through immigration with my pack and my carry-on with a plan to check my bag in the morning. I tried to execute the plan and nearly qualified for “locked up abroad”. “You have all ready left the Country and cannot return and then leave again”. This is a one way ticket: Ok, no problem! I will check my pack on this side….not an option. I will check it at the gate….not an option because you have to go through security and they are never going to allow those hiking poles, Swiss Army Knife, large bottle of sun screen – besides your pack is too big. Like I said, I was that guy. Fortunately Sara had given me her bracelet that she made of wooden prayer beads during her Buddhist retreat. “For good Karma, and safe travels” was her parting comment. So I closed my eyes, ran each bead through my fingers slowly and said “I am leaving this up to you, as I am sure you have a plan, but it seems like I am kinda screwed here; any help….greatly appreciated” As my flight approached departure time no solution was apparent, and while everyone was very kind, no one had any real good ideas. Inspiration: I cranked all of the straps down on my pack, and expelled all the air from the dry bags and I put more duct take over the tips of my hiking poles. I then waited for the line to subside, walked up to the X-Ray machine like I owned her: ”Is this your pack Sir”, “Yes it is” as I took it off the ramp smartly before they could say another word and carried my entire kit onto a full plane. I was feeling pretty smug with myself until I remembered that I turned this one over: “Hey, good plan, thanks for the help”.

At about 3am, before realizing I was actually in a jam, I thought foolishly that I may get some sleep. I found a small corner upstairs and wrapped myself in a fetal position around my gear. Now, without my glasses I cannot see…. Literally, and it is one of my real fears – glasses separation. But when I suddenly woke around 4am, I could tell they where in uniform – four of them -had guns – on a mission, and they were heading straight for me. I snapped to full attention, and kept my hands very visible. “Passport and boarding pass, cross reference his passport number against the boarding pass. No problem, sorry to have bothered you Sir”. “Oh that is OK fellas , thanks for asking”. I am just glad they had not embraced everything American as I had visions of Dick Head Chaney espousing the need and virtue of “enhanced techniques”. Not sure who or what they were looking for but I was glad it was not me as these are not the donut eating rent a cops from Sacramento’s NON-international airport. Screw sleeping, just give me coffee.

So I have been up for something like 26 hours now (less the short -pre interrogation nap). I have a simple mission for today: Get 90 day Nepal visa, get Nepalese Rubes (hope ATMs work better than in Korea) get a taxi to Thamel district of Katmandu, find a room, Sleep.

OMFG: I have never, and I mean never seen anything this crazy. That is all I can say for now as I am thinking the Nepal airport, the hucksters, the AMT experience, and nearly getting killed no less than 50 times on the taxi ride is maybe a result of sleep deprivation. Sent John a quick text with a lot of profanity asking what have I done; he simply wrote back “embrace the anarchy”. Do I have a choice? Or like we used to say on the PCT in half jest when we reached a tough spot: “We are going to die’.

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The Birthday

Posted in 2009 Asia, South Korea on September 14, 2009| Leave a Comment »

As I sit in my favorite cafe Americano in Yongin waiting for a bus to take me to Incheon, a plane to Singapore, and a connecting flight to Nepal I find myself in the middle of an all ladies birthday celebration. When they starting singing “Happy Birthday” or something that sounded like it, I joined in to their great delight. Korean culture is hard to break into but little things like this are sure to produce a smile and laughter. After the singing, and clapping was rewarded with a beautiful bunch of grapes and I was able to produce a respectable- Cas-ham-nida (thank you in Korean). The grapes are really unique and remind me of the off the vine ones we grew when I was a kid; full of seed with all the juicy sugar close to the tough skin while the inside is very firm mass. Somehow these grapes seem more real then I highly modified cultivars. Being a gift makes then all the sweater.

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The answer

Posted in 2009 Asia, South Korea, Uncategorized on September 14, 2009| 1 Comment »

South Korea

little guy

Guardians protect the entrance to many ancient sites

Given “The answer” has been found, I – well- guess , I can go back to the states. In hindsight it was easy, to easy in a way; and while I am very happy, I am left with a feeling of – really, that simple; results do not lie. When Sara and I speculated that we were onto it, it was simply a matter of finding the “right”, “not substitute” ingredients. Granted it took some bus rides, it took some walking, it took asking directions, it took help from abroad, it took multiple stores, it was expensive – but after a half a day we had what we needed, or at least we were pretty sure we did (labels were all in Korean); the ingredients for the perfect American chocolate chip cookie, and thus the answer to all of life’s questions – Good friends, good laughs, great cookies. We could only bake 4 cookies at a time given we only had access to a toaster over, but we knew we had it as we ate multiple spoon fulls of raw dough; lubrication for the tongue and upper palette. REAL BUTTER, REAL VANILLA, REAL CHOCOLATE CHIPS, and of course walnuts.

“We are dangerous together, like two peas in a pod” Sara exclaimed as we thought it was perfectly fantastic to stay up until 3am and sleep until noon all the while enjoying batches of cookies, 4 at a time. Sara had bought a book on traveling to South America on a shoe string and I had found the newly published Lonely Planet guide for Nepal. “Hey check this out, I am going to take Salsa lessons in Latin America” or “OMG, Kathmandu is one of the only capital cities in the world to have daily and extended power outages….it says here that nothing works”.

And thus my stay with my Sara comes to a perfect end. We saw some sites, we experienced a different culture, we ate a lot of Kimchi, and most importantly, we expanded our friendship beyond one of Uncle/Niece that was a definition from my previous marriage and a previous time.

While I have found the answer, I do think I will carry on in my travels however. In a comment posted here, my friend Ed Whitehead reminded me about what Mark Twain said of travel: “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.” Looking forward to that motorcycle ride to the tip of Baja, ferry across the gulf, and ride back up the mainland of Mexico Ed; you and those biker bums back home get to planning. And that goal of sailing across an ocean together, well that needs to happen also.

Off to Kathmandu and the country that has the right to boast about having 8 of the worlds 10 largest mountains within its border. Tonight, if things go as planned, I will be calling the Singapore airport home. Tomorrow, tiger balm hucksters, and some BIG ass mountains.

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The markets and roads

Posted in 2009 Asia, South Korea on September 12, 2009| 3 Comments »

Central South Korea

bowls of grain

Bowls of grain

Much of what is for sale on the street markets is quite beautiful and reminds me of a nice farmer’s market back home; ok that is a stretch. And much is rather disturbing. Capturing photos of the markets, particularly the disturbing parts, has proven difficult. The street vendors do not like to be photographed (the nastier their product the less they like it), and it is considered rude to do so without permission. So, I keep asking for permission and keep being “Shooed” away. I have employed a technique that my good friend Alan (http://www.ecovelo.info/) and excellent photographer suggested: “Put the camera on full auto, turn the camera to mute, and walk down the street with camera at waist level while the shutter is depressed; you will capture something interesting”.

fruit bowls

Bowls of fruit

market produce

Market Produce

The lost in translation contest continues and today”s entries included a couple of real contenders . The first was worn proudly by a rather dark complected young Asian man on the subway; he was wearing a snow white T-shirt that read: “White Represent Purity”. The second was even more, well, interesting. It was worn by a young girl that we estimated to be around 10-13 years old. She was wearing a baby pink adolescent’s shirt that had a bright pink cartoon cat on the front of it….just adorable. Above the cat in big letters it said: “Our Pussy”, and below the cat it read: “Our Choice”. Now in California at the Dykes on Bikes parade, I would expect this. In fact, I once found myself in the middle of a gay rights march on Washington DC and this shirt would have been considered junior league there. But from a women’s perspective, South Korea has been described to me as being most similar to the U.S, circa 1950; albeit changing rapidly. Thus, I am pretty certain this young girl was NOT an activist.

Traffic signals are but “Recommendations”; seriously. Yellow proceeds green NOT red, and indicates that the other side is still green but you can likely proceed regardless. Not that it matters, you can proceed on red as well. Scooters use the cross walks to avoid signals all together, and use the sidewalks on an “as needed” basis. Folding mirrors on cars were invented for the narrow alleys – when it is tight, quickly grab-em, fold-em and accelerate; if you are actually going to hit (these are nice cars) slam on the brakes and horn simultaneously and play a game of chicken regarding who is going to back up; or maybe a shop keeper will close their window to provide the extra inch. Bus drivers are something to behold and compete in real races around real cities; way more interesting than NASCAR – spectators get to come along for the ride; usually about $1500 Won, so plan on a buck and a quarter for your admission.

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