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Sari, bindi, and monkey

September 17, 2009 by robertfrancisco

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
monkey on statue

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.
india women at monkey temple
Hindu women and child at Monkey Temple

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 people.

Posted in Nepal | 2 Comments »

A tale of two rooms

September 17, 2009 by robertfrancisco

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

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.

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.

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

First Impression: OMFG

September 16, 2009 by robertfrancisco

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’.

Posted in 2009 Asia, Nepal | 5 Comments »

The Birthday

September 14, 2009 by robertfrancisco

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.

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

The answer

September 14, 2009 by robertfrancisco

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.

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

The markets and roads

September 12, 2009 by robertfrancisco

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.

Posted in 2009 Asia, South Korea | 3 Comments »

Miss you mom

September 12, 2009 by robertfrancisco

Jukjeon, South Korea

peggy-oct042

Peggy Johnson Francisco

Still on the road mom, looking for home; It has been a year today, yet I know you are with me.

Posted in 2009 Asia, South Korea | 1 Comment »

Sad day in American history

September 11, 2009 by robertfrancisco

Outside of the World Trade Center, Insadong, South Korea

future skyline

Skyline in Insadong

A sad day in American history. I hope our future is more bright.

Yet, when I read a description of the fall of the Shilla Dynasty, I wondered how much history truly does predict the future–our future. It went something like this: Given differences amongst internal and external ideologies, combined with internal and external disparities in wealth, the empire was destroyed from within and without.

On a “deluxe” bus for return to Sara’s. Just worked out that way due to timing; certainly more spacious, but there are only a half dozen of us on bus so matters not.

“How did I get here?” A question that repeats itself often; “Well this happened and then this happened and now you are here”. Somehow, however, that does not seem to completely or even accurately describe why I am on a bus in Korea. Something is missing. Or at least I hope something is missing, for if it’s not, I am stuck; stuck with a feeling that something is missing; something that I need to find. “What is it, where do I need to look, who do I need to ask?” Patience grasshopper.

Posted in 2009 Asia, South Korea | 5 Comments »

A night culture

September 10, 2009 by robertfrancisco

Gyeongju, South Korea

observatory

Oldest astrological observatory in Asia

Lonely Planet guide described my hotel as very clean. I like clean. I would also add very friendly, very quiet, very secure, and as typical in Korea, a very hard bed and a wand for a shower head. Being that I had no idea where to stay I followed the book’s recommendation. “I know, what a tourist!”. True. But it was in the budget category and in the old part of the city verses the new sanitized “Resort” area complete with an artificial lake . It was a great recommendation and I truly enjoyed my three night there for 25,000 WON (about $22USD) per night.

I FOUND it; good food. Korean noodles are excellent. Home made noodles and vegetables in a thin salty broth. Just don’t think that the ingredients came from the market with pig’s blood dripping down the stainless steel hooks, or the severed hooves for sale in the bucket and you will be fine. during noodles I saw a refrigerator full of Coca Cola in a bottle; perfect. I attempted to ask for a coke; coca cola, cola, soda, coka… I even went over and pointed at the bottle only to get a flurry of Korean and a lot of no head shaking. “Ok, sorry I asked”, and when back to my soup. Minutes later, the owner reappears and presses a glass bottle of nearly frozen Coke against me cheek along with another flurry of incomprehensible sounds. I see now she went down the street to get me a cold one-Life is good. Based on taste, I am pretty certain that like Mexico, Korean Coca Cola in the bottle is made with sugar and not corn syrup….oh life is really good.

Korea is a night culture. Thus, I got on the bus early (8:30am) and took it to the last stop. I had the bus to myself as I developed a plan to find some of the more obscure history of the ancient dynasty. I found the first Stupa I was looking for and it was literally in someone’s side yard; I had to walk through their Kimchi pepper, and soy bean patch to see the work of ancient craftsman. After some time, I found the training facility of the Shilla wariors and as I walked through the looming stone walls, I could feel the presence of the warrior who trained to defend the kingdom from Mongol, Chinese, and Japanese invaders. Besides these spirits, I was the only one there and the 300 WON ($0.25USD) was a steal given the great painting and the excellent narratives (in English) that explained the millennium of the dynasty; great way toput my short life in appropriate context.

From here I went in search of the rock carvings that were reported on both map and guide book. I even found a sign that I am pretty sure said what I was looking for was 500 meters down this road. Well, if it is not on a bus stop ( I walked about an hour to get to this place) you may never find it. Beyond looking into people”s bedrooms I searched hard, to no avail. I did however, see how those outside the city live, and I appreciated the hard work of one old man I watched watering his row crops by hand with a bucket of water he carried from the river below. I also saw the rice; all the rice. Now I live in the rice capital of the US but this is different. Different in how they use any means, including road shoulders, as the dikes for the rice paddies. Different in how they harvest by hand, and different in the bright ribbons that are strewn across the fields- presumably to discourage birds or to denote the plot boundaries, I am not sure which or either.

Went to “PC” establishment; a “gaming” den for the mostly young males of Korea. I was wondering as I looked at the intense play if maybe one of these guys was playing on-line with my nephew Ryan as they try to save or conquer there own modern day kingdoms. Emails were my mission. Simple enough; no. This was my second PC shop as I was yet to find a machine with English text and an English key board. This particular shop proprietor worked on the problem as I continued to shrug my shoulders and point to the Korean characters. Finally, got Google in English….YES. My journal will likely not get updated as frequently as I anticipated if this this type of difficulty continues.

Interestingly, before my trip I had heard things like: No problem lots of English speakers around the globe, the ATMs are universal, the internet is widely available, and power adapters are readily found. Maybe they meant Paris or London? In Korea, a very developed county that is “Wired” compared to where I am headed, is not without challenges. Anyway, the ATMs, for my banks only work in Seoul. The internet I found was initially all in Korean, It took 5 hours to find a power adapter, and very very few people speak English. That said, Korea was a great venue to start my trip. The cultural shock has been pretty extreme but things work herr. The buses, the trains, the sewers. And best of all Korea is very very safe place to travel. There is very little crime here and I have felt very safe throughout my travels. This includes walking down back alleys at night in several cities thus far. I would not even consider this in Sacramento and certainty not in our nation’s capital. Sara and Kanae both commented on this as well and independently verified that Korea is a very good place for women to travel alone. I talked to some Germans who were here for a conference and they had both traveled to India: “You need to hold onto your own teeth or they will be stolen”. I paid a lot of money for these gold crowns; best be careful.

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

New friends

September 9, 2009 by robertfrancisco

Gyeongju, South Korea

Korean dinner with Japan friend

Kanae and I enjoying a 30+ course (sides) dinner

“You speak very beautiful English”, “It is my hobby” said the women outside the oldest astrological observatory in all of Asia. I have found that this simple compliment often instills a sense of pride and accomplishment in non-English speakers and as a result they will often talk to you more freely. Like all people and dogs, we like to be encouraged and praised rather than criticized and disciplined. This case was no different as I got a complete overview of Gyeongju including the best times of day to see sights, and what bus to take because the “taxi to much WON”.I also learned about this womens children and how she had been to the Grand Canyon- “Such big hole”.

The batteries on my laptop SUCK. The HP mini is proving to be a fantastic little machine but 3 hour advertised battery life is code for just over an hour.

Walking up the sublime path to Seokguram Grotto a young women asked me in non-Korean English “Where are you from?”. I have discovered that California always gets a bigger smile than the United States or America so I always introduce myself that way. Besides, I do think of myself as a Californian. Not that I am not pure American as John would say, but the idea of someone thinking I am from Eastern Kentucky just scares me. Now before you start thinking I am down on people from Kentucky you should know one of my dearest friends is from there; and she was smart enough to move to California. Anyway, on this path I met Kanae, a graduating senior from Osaka, Japan who had taken a 2 month English class in Canada and was eager to practice. I guessed her being from Japan as they are the dominant tourists here even though the sites are all but empty as the global economy continues to curb travel (good for me). We had a great afternoon together and we discovered that some of the translations at the monuments were better in Japanese and some were better in English. So we would each read them in our native language and then translate for each other. At the grotto we collectively figured out that this, take you breath away, statue of the Buddha was over 12,00 years old. I could have sat at the base and looked at this Unesco World Heritage site for hours; so perfect so peaceful in that Mona Lisa sorta way. After a bit, Kanae and I needed to go our separate ways and each respectfully bowed to the other and said goodbye.

My earlier docent friend had told me to come back and see the observatory at night and this was a great suggestion as the evening mood was cool, the cicadas were chirping, and the entire place had a certain sense of mystery to it. Just as I was leaving, Kanae walked through the gates as she had taken my second hand advice and had also come back to see it at night. We took some photos and then after an awkward translation, Kanae, asked me if I wanted to have diner and then go see the pagodas together. At first I was somewhat unsure and then I remembered my new rule that when asked I would try to accept or “just show up” as my friend Dana frequently reminds me. After securing a recommendation for dinner we, according to my count, had something like a 33 course (sides in Korea) meal. The food can be categorized into three simple groups.. 1. Wow, that is pretty good, (little fried fish, rice balls with honey and sesame seeds) 2. Humm, not my favorite but….( anchovies in spiced sauce, pancake thing with seaweed 3. Uggg! I would not eat another bite of that if I was on the Donner party (the raw oysters in some of nastiness-gooey stuff ). Kanae had a similar response but she like a few more things then me as they transferred more readily cross cultures.. She warned my about the oysters…but I naturally did not listen. I then warned her about one dish that was “way beyond Kimshi hot”. She did not listen and boy did she pay for that.

After dinner we went to see the pond and the pagodas. It was a great evening. We caught a cab back to town and once again bowed our goodbyes and went our separate ways. My buddy Larry, had mentioned that it is much easier meeting people when you travel alone. He would know as he spent 16 months on the Asia road. I just did not figure it would happen to me. Wonder why that is? Perceptually unique I guess; Not a virtue I would add. Traveling alone is very different for me. I like it a good deal and yet there is a certain loneliness to it. But for me I am pretty certain that I have carried that loneliness for quite some time now. The difference is that at home I can easily mask it by driving hard into my work or some other project; always failing to look at what is the fuel behind that drive.

Posted in 2009 Asia, South Korea | 3 Comments »

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