Memoirs of a Lemming

Sitting outside of the glass paned doors of the Embassy of Brazil in Thailand, my pursuit of a Brazilian Visa started simple enough. I arrived at the office door half an hour before office hours, so I just simply sat outside, patiently waiting, while reading the latest novel in my bag. About ten minutes before nine, a lady showed up, unlocked the door, and offered me to sit on the couch inside, while I waited for the office to officially open. I smiled and thanked her, and she smiled back. After another fifteen minutes, she appeared at the window counter and asked me to come forward. I stepped up, said good morning, and told her that I would like to process an application for a visa to Brazil. She smiled, and said sure, than asked to see my passport. When I took my passport out of my bag, it was if day instantly turned into night, and she said: Oh, you are from the United States. I replied: yes. She than, said: you need to return with three passport photos, roundtrip tickets, bank statements for the last six months showing that you can financially support yourself, names and places that you will stay during your visit, contact information, these applications filled out, and payment of 5000 bahts. Than she slid the applications to me, and the smile from five minutes ago, was instantly gone. Confused, I looked over both sides of both applications, and saw no mention of the list of requested materials. I told her that I had researched the requirements on-line and saw no requirement for financial documents, and it may be an issue as I have been on the road for six months now. She replied: you need to provide these documents, it’s a case of reciprocity, as that is what the United States require of Brazilian citizens. I tried to ration, that I know that entering the US is tough, but I am not familiar with the requirements, but can sympathizes as I am immigrant myself, in any event, I am willing to provide the documents, but would only like to see a list where the requested materials are in writing. She cut back: the US gives us no list, we give no list, return when you have the materials. At this point, I was annoyed, and asked her, why the sudden change in attitude, we had started off so friendly, but as soon as she saw my passport, she became harsh and mean. This obviously did not please her, as she just frowned and said that, she is treating me no different than how the US treats others, namely Brazilians. Knowing that this conversation was going no where, and that we would not affect any international diplomacy, I just pleaded with her, that I wanted her to repeat the list, so that I can write it down, and explain to her that I have been on the road, out of the country for over six months and attaining some of the requested materials may be problematic, additionally, I wanted to travel throughout Brazil without a set itinerary, so a confirmation/booking for every night was not possible, and that I hoped to leave Brazil via overlandto a neighboring country. I than asked her to review my passport for proof, that my story was legit, and told her that what our government requires of each other is beyond both our control, but as a traveler, I could understand the frustration of others, desiring to visit the US. She than, unhappily, flipped through my passport, and told me to provide what I can, and she will process the application, when I return, but the payment was non-refundable. Not knowing what that meant and her tone, I asked her if after submission, would it be easy to determine the feasibility of me getting approval for the visa. She said, that she could probably respond instantly, but I would still have to wait at least 5 business days for the processing. I told her that I was going to another country today, but would be back in a couple weeks, when I could be without my passport for that length of period. She than notified me that there was numerous days the Embassy would be closed, between both national holidays of Brazil and Thailand, and with Christmas and New Years coming up. As I started to leave, I thanked her, but being the hard head that I am, I told her, that I still didn’t understand why the instant attitude change, as we were both smiles when she opened the door, and than poof, it was as if I did something bad. She just gave me a dirty look, and said people from the US are all the same, they think they rule everything. Speechless, I walked out.

Over a month later, I arrived back to the office in the afternoon, to submit my completed application and requested materials, at least what I could get. As I entered there was a line for the counter, so I asked the receptionist, if she could get me a clean copy of the applications, so I can fill out while I waited, as mine was tattered from sitting in my bag for the last month. She just looked at me, nodded no, and went back reading her book. I tried asking again, but she just ignored me. Confused, I said something smartass, like: must be a good book. Than another lady came out, and gave someone a package, so I tried to ask her the same request, to which she responded: you must wait like everyone else, I told her that I was just trying to save time, as the application was not as neat and clean as I would like, she just said: wait, and closed the door.

After about fifteen minutes, I was up, and the lady I spoke to a month ago walked away, and into the back, as I approached the counter. After waiting a minute or two, with no one behind the counter, the lady who refused my request for a new application appeared. I told her that I was hear to submit my application, and wanted her to review before I went across the street to deposit my fee into their bank account. She looked at me, and said that my application forms needed to be re-written, as any crease was not acceptable, to which I said, but I tried requesting one, but no one would help me. This initiated a tirade, in which she said, all Americans are the same, you think you can just show up, and we will bend over backwards for you, well we do to you what your country does to us, and our citizens. Shocked, I told her, I don’t know where this is coming from, but I am just trying to go to Brazil, as I am going to appreciate their country and culture, and can’t speak about any pass actions of any Americans. She said, you are just the same, I spoke with the other lady who you dealt with last month, and the receptionist, they both said that you are a trouble maker. Flabbergasted, I told her, I can’t talk to them to explain our conversation, but I approached the counter polite, and with the requested materials, and I would challenge her to say otherwise, and to point to any example that she personally witnessed where I was not polite. She, than accused me of verbally assaulting her co-worker, and said that she had the right to deny my application on the spot, and that any denial would be recorded and that I would not be able to re-submit any application for five years. Than she grabbed my paper work and jumped on the computer, and she said as she typed: I am going to deny your application right now. Shocked and not knowing what to do, I yelled at her demanding to see her supervisor, as I did not know what was going on, I repeated that I had done nothing wrong, only followed their directions, but questioned some of their policies, which I had a right to do, based on the personal financial information they were requesting. I told her, if she denied me, I would sit in this office until her supervisor met with me. She responded that her supervisor was not present, and that she was in charge. I yelled, I will not leave until her supervisor returned, I would not leave until I had a fair chance to speak to someone rational, I will not leave. I than pleaded again, I don’t know why I am being unfairly treated, she could go back to the previous lady and asked about our conversation, I was not demeaning or rude, I just simply questioned the required materials, I again challenged her to recount our interaction up to that point, and how I was nothing but polite from the beginning and tried to be helpful by asking for a new application, to help speed the process. She than came up to the window and ranted about a story, where she denied an American his visa request on the spot, with the full support of her supervisor, as the person was rude, arrogant, and thought he was above the rules. I told her, that I don’t question the validity of that story, but she can’t possibly hold every American accountable for the action of one, and I would hope that if I have a bad run in with somebody from Brazil, that she wouldn’t want me to think bad about every Brazilian. I than pleaded her to review my passport including my place of birth. I told her, I know that it’s hard to visit the US, as after living there almost all my life, I barely became a citizen only six years ago, but that is not something I control, but its something I can sympathizes as I am a immigrant myself, and to see all the stamps from the last six months, I am visiting all those places, because I want to see, learn and appreciate all the world has to offer, not to show any arrogance or dominance. She than, took all my materials, and went to the back. As I waited, all kinds of thoughts raced through my mind, mainly if they don’t want me to visit, so be it, I will just have to do something about my ticket, and just start in Argentina. Still in disbelief, I just convinced myself, yeah I will just start in Argentina, and go to a nice steak restaurant my first night there, in Buenos Aires, where I don´t need a visa.

After about ten minutes, she reappeared at the window, and spread out my materials. She started by half apologizing, that she may have prompted the unfriendliness, as she was told by the other lady about my previous visit, the minute I walked in the door, so she probably mistreated me with that knowledge. She than rationed it, by saying that I was challenging the system, by accusing them of making up rules, when I requested to see the list and asked to speak with the supervisor. I explained to her, that I was not accusing or assuming anything, and that I was only trying to make a proper submittal, and that if she was in my shoe, and somebody asked for very personal financial documents, she may ask for more information as well. She than told me, that she reviewed all my information with her supervisor, and that considering my circumstances of being on the road for the last six months which they verified by review of the passport, and understanding my desire to travel by overland, they would be willing to make me some allowances. We than reviewed my full application, and she identified what additional information and verification, that she would need before she would accept my application for processing. I than half apologized, by saying that, I hope we could move forward with a clean slate, and that any rudeness or disrespect that they perceived on my part, was unintentional, and that I apologize for any mis-understanding. To which, she apologized for not giving me a fair shake, as she was tainted by the words from her co-worker, and should have started the conversation without any prejudice. As, I collected my materials, I asked her, if I was to return with the materials later that day or tomorrow, was it positive that I would receive a visa approval, as 5000 bahts was a lot of money. She responded: oh by the way, the fees have changed since the beginning of the year, almost all fees have dropped by 25 percent, with the exception of citizens of the US, where your fee increased to 5200 bahts. I responded: it is, what it is, collected my materials and left the Embassy.

As I found a internet cafe, trying to print out the additional information, I entertained the idea of not returning to that Embassy, and just increase my stay in Hong Kong, to process the visa there, but part of me was paranoid in thinking that they made some record of me, on the computer. So, I e-mailed my friend Gui, and told him about my problems at the Embassy, and asked if he could write a brief e-mail, saying that he would somewhat vouch for me, in that he could be contacted and that he could contact me, while I am in Brazil, so that I didn’t have to have a reservation booked for every day/night that I am in Brazil. Gui, responded that Brazilis very bureaucratic, and that government officials don’t like to be questioned and challenged, and the case of reciprocity on visas requests, was well known. He told me to bite my lip, no matter how hard it was, and just to play along, until I got my visa. Gui also wrote me a e-mail, that I printed out and submitted with my application, which said that he could be contacted, if required, as he would remain in constant contact with me, during my stay.

With all the requested materials in place, and more, I returned hat in hand, to submit my application. This time, we started off with the clean start we both needed, and made no mention of my previous two visits. She reviewed the materials and applications, accepted them, and provided me a receipt, and whispered to me that she could try to expedite it, by having it ready in three business days, as the weekend was already in the middle of those days. I told her, that I appreciated her effort, but have already changed all my flights, and was going to head out of town the next few days, and would come pick up my passport when I returned. She than gave me her extension to her direct line, and told me to call her, if I wanted a status update on the visa. I thanked her, for her assistance and left, crossing my fingers that we had truly made up from our explosion the day before.

When I returned over a week later, I brought some pastries, hoping to celebrate my visa to Brazil. As I entered, she saw me, and raced to the window counter. Still not knowing what to expect, I held my breathe, as she looked for my passport. When she found it, she flipped through the pages looking for the visa, than she showed it to me. She explained that I had 90 days to use it from the date of issuance, than I would have 90 days to stay in Brazil. She than whispered to me, that if I wish to get another visa to Brazil, I should do it at home, and request it for 5 years, as that was very do-able. I than thanked her, and showed her the pastry gifts that I brought. She initially refused, but I told her that I wanted her to share the pastries with her co-workers and that, I wanted to do it, considering the bad foot we started with. Finally she accepted, and I left the Embassy with one more visa in my passport.

Dubai, one of the seven states that make up the United Arab Emirates, is the second largest in terms of land area and economy, but is the most populated and probably the most well known (Abu Dhabi, is the largest in those other aforementioned categories). Over the last few years, many of us have heard about Dubai, whether it was a sporting event, such as: The Dubai Classic golf tournament, a tennis tournament, or the world’s richest individual horse race. If not, it´s probably because you heard about one of it’s many unfathomable construction project. Since I found a great deal on a flight with Emirates Airlines, and there was a required layover at their hub in Dubai, I requested an extended layover of a couple days, so that I could see some of the madness for myself.

My flight touched down just after 5 am, and I hopped on a public bus headed for the old town portion of Dubai, Diera. After finding a very modest hotel for 200 Dirhams ($1 USD equals 3.67 Dirhams), and with only two days to see the sights, I grabbed a quick snack and hit the streets for as much sight seeing as I could squeeze in. First, I walked to the Gold Souq, known for it’s jewelry stores, and windows filled with, what else but: gold. As it was still early and Friday to boot, many of the stores were still closed, apparently Friday mornings are reserved for religious purposes. I walked along the creek and hopped on a water taxi, crossing the creek, headed for the Bur Dubai/Dubai Fort, which now functions as a museum. Unfortunately the museum was still closed due to Friday services, and according to most, it is a must do. Now realizing how large and spreadout all the significant sights are, I hopped on the Big Bus Tour, which is a double decker bus, that makes a circuit throughout Dubai, stopping at all the significant landmarks. Your 24 hour ticket allows you to hop on and off the bus, at any of it’s 20 stops. When traveling alone, the Big Bus option although not inexpensive, at 175 Dirhams, probably works out cheaper than hiring a taxi for each individual leg, but if there are a couple of people, I would suggest using other methods, such as a taxi or car rental, as many of it’s stops are at nothing more than a shopping mall. The only other advantage to the bus tour, was the information they provided on a portion of the trip.

Some of the notables sights along the route (some were stops, and many others were merely drive-bys) included:

Burj Al Arab, the only seven star hotel in the world, built in the shape of a sail of a sailboat, this hotel is placed on it’s own man-made island, includes a underwater restaurant, a helipad platform cantilevered high in the air, where Andre Agassi played tennis against Roger Feder and where Tiger Woods launched golf balls into the sea. To visit the hotel you must eat at one of its restaurant which requires a reservation and is always booked days ahead, or stay at the hotel or one of it’s sister Jumeirah hotels.

In front of the Burj Al Arab hotel, on the mainland, is the previously famed, but now overshadowed Jumeirah Beach Hotel, which is in the shape of a cresting wave. Along the bus route, you pass the construction sites of the Palm Islands and the World Islands. There are actually two Palm Island projects, where they are building man made islands off shore, which when viewing from the sky, the islands appear in the shape of a Palm Tree. The first Palm project is expected to be complete within the next year, and the second, a much larger set of islands, is still in it’s infancy of construction. The World Islands, is a set of approximately 300 man-made islands that look like the globe from the sky. Each island will only be accessible by boat and/or helicopter. The individual islands will be sold with only the infrastructure necessary for the owners to construct and grade their own project/buildings. The minimum asking price is 20 million USD for one of the islands, supposedly Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have already purchased one. These islands, Palms and World islands, are also suppose to be one of the only man-made structures visible from space. Unfortunately, at this stage in the construction, it was still much to early to witness or appreciate the projects, unless you have access to a helicopter, to view it from the air.

I than hopped off the bus, to see the much discussed Mall of Emirates, home of Ski Dubai, the current world’s largest indoor snow ski slope. The end of the mall which includes Ski Dubai, looks like an alien space ship attached to the mall, as it is finished with a stainless steel type material, soaring dozens of stories up in the air. According to my friends Tom and Charlie, whom I met back in India, it was a must do, and which would explain the ski hat and glove purchases I made back in Shenzen, China. As I got to the mall fairly late, and there was only one more Big Bus passing by for the evening, I passed on snowboarding for the day, with plans to return the following day. The mall itself was ridiculous: finished with high polished marble and shiny materials, filled with high price label stores, and packed with wall to wall of people, this mall reminded me of South Coast Plaza back home. The only indication, that reminded myself that I was in the Middle East, was the locale grab that many people wore, including many women dressed all in black from head to toe, with only a sliver of the their human flesh exposed: around their eyes, and their hands. But even than, their wrists were filled with bracelets made of gold and laddened with precious stones, while their eyes was covered by glasses made by Armani, Versace, or other high priced brands that I am not familiar with.

As, I caught the final bus for the night, headed towards the old town area of Dubai, we passed the skyscraper portion of the city, where the most notable project, is the construction of the Burj Dubai. Slated to be in excess of 800 meters tall, the Burj Dubai, will easily become the tallest skyscraper, crushing the current record holder, Taipei 101, which rings in at just over 500 meters.

The next morning, I hopped back on the Big Bus to complete the portions of the circuit that I did not see, the day before, and with my ski hat and glove in hand, headed back to the Mall of Emirates to do some snowboarding. Now the last time I attempted to snowboard was quite a few years ago, long enough that I don’t remember the exact year, but it had to be at least five years ago. As I stood in line and approached the counter, it reminded me of the inquisition that takes place when you check-in for your flight. They wanted to verify that you were an experienced skier or snowboarder, knew how to properly: stop, turn and to get off the ski lift. The cashier also warned that if the ski rangers noticed that you were not experienced that you would be asked to leave without any refund. Although I only had one previous snowboarding experience, I recalled that I was a quick learner, and nodded yes to each of the questions he asked, but I am pretty sure they caught on, as when they asked me for my board size, and the orientation of my footing, I drew a blank. They asked again that I was experienced to which I responded: yes, but I usually just burrow my buddy´s board and never worried about the size. I also remembered, instantly, that I was a goofy footed skateboarder as a kid, meaning that my right foot is forward. Luckily for me, they didn’t watch me trying to figure out how to put on all the snowboard apparel, and how to work the snowboard bindings/buckles.

As I made my way to the lift, my heart was racing, and my mind was thinking, what the heck did I get myself into. I didn’t care much if I got caught and got kicked out. I was more worried of what I would do, to get caught/noticed, and only hoped that it would not end in a injury of myself, or of anybody else. I watched many in front, as they instinctively approached the lifts and sat in the chair, than I mimicked the same. A couple of local brothers joined me on the lift, and we chatted on the way up. As we approached the first plateau, I tried to get off, but didn’t know how to lift the gate, by the time I asked the brothers, they said that all we had to do, was raise our arms and push up on the bar, but as they just assumed that everybody wanted to go to the top, the black diamond run, they were resting their arms on the gate, which explains why I didn’t feel any give, when I nudged up on the bar. Trying to play it cool, I just said, okay, but I will know for next time. As we approached the top, and lifted the gate, my eyes were set on the boarders in front to see how they exited the chairs, and when it was my turn, I made it about seven feet from the chair before I wiped out. I quickly jumped to me feet, pushed myself off to the side, and tried to act as casual as possible. Than, I watched everybody tackle the slopes, and tried to learn most from the lesser experienced boarders and recounted my experience years back. Luckily, I remembered about the falling leaf method, and hoped that the years of skateboarding would pay off. Seriously, while I was sitting at the top of the slope, looking down, I was not sure how I was going to get down, but the machismo in me, told me that I had to snowboard down, dead or alive, as it was that same male arrogance that got me into this mess. As I pushed off and over the edge, I took it fairly slow going left to right, than slicing back right to left. Along the way, I landed on my arse a couple of times, but by the time I got to the bottom, I actually felt more comfortable, and was sure I could tackle the intermediate slope, without making a scene. For the next hour, I probably got in over a dozen runs, and when my confidence was really high, I decided to go out with a bang and hit the high slope one last time before I called it a day. Man was that a mistake! The slope had gotten pretty icy and hard, by that time, and as I flew down and cutting back to slow down, the board came out from underneath me, and I landed firmly on my arse and made a sound that I swear could start an avalanche. I just laid there for a few seconds, and somehow jumped back up, and worked my way back down the slope, which unfortunately yielded one more fall. With my bum feeling, like there would be no more feeling: ever, I turned in my board, and hung up my gear.

In the afternoon, I joined an excursion group, for a trip to the desert, for: some dune bashing, riding in a land cruiser, as the driver smashes through, on and over sand dunes; one run on a snowboard down a sand dune, and a cultural dinner show, highlighted by a belly dancer, who funny enough was from Russia. My excursion mates was the Saeed family: mom, dad, grandma, daughter and son. Yaya the son, sat next to me, and we talked about what he liked, was looking forward to, this afternoon, and kids stuff in general. Than when the dune bashing started, Yaya, closed his eyes, grabbed my hand, squeezed it for dear life, and started saying something over and over again, which his mother translated for me: I want it to stop, I want it to stop. Strangely enough, his family just smiled, with his sister giggling, and mostly just ignored his cries for help, as they just wanted to enjoy the rest of the ride. Eventually, Yaya made it through the ride, but let’s just say that, Yaya held my hand more than any girl has in a long time.

Between the various activities, the father was able to give me some information about Dubai and the UAE. The Saeed family, originally from Pakistan, has now been living in Abu Dhabi for the last few years. Mr Saeed works for an engineering company as a Project Manager, and almost lit up, when he found out that I am a civil engineer. With little knowledge of my resume and experience, he asked me if I was interested in relocating to the UAE, as his company has plenty of opportunities. The rest of the afternoon, he and I spoke about a wide range of subjects, but I was interested most in what he thought about living in the area, the craziness in the volume of construction and the madness in the size of each project. He explained to me, that the UAE shares it’s wealth and distributes it’s income from petroleum and natural gas between the seven states. In the case of Dubai, there is actually little income generated from petroleum and natural gas, as they only produce a little excess beyond what their population uses. Whereas, Abu Dhabi, is not only the financial heart of the UAE, but also the petroleum  and natural gas generating machine. As the wealth gets distributes to each country, each country further distributes it to their citizens. Of Dubai’s 1.3 million residence, only 20 percent of them are ethnically from Dubai, and are the only ones allowed to share in the distribution of wealth. As a result, these Dubaians, receive periodical checks in excess of a million dollars, for doing nothing else than breathing. The Shiek of Dubai, also instituted other incentives for the males to keep the blood pure, so that they will marry a Dubaian women and raise a family, by giving them free housing when they got married, and some extra cash to celebrate the nuptials and more when they have a child. The free housing, was amazing, looked more like an upscale apartment complex, with it´s multiple floors, and it´s volume, than an individual unit for one family to live in. With money literally to burn, the government even sells raffle tickets, where they raffle of luxury cars, such as: Lexus, BMWs and other SUVs, every month.

According to Saeed, Dubai realizing that the oil well eventually will run dry, and with the hoards of incoming money, Dubai has set for itself the goal of becoming the world’s number one tourist destination of the rich and absurdly wealthy. So in an effort to attract and accommodate that clientele, the aforementioned projects, along with many others are being built. As we speak, there are numerous construction projects under way, that well redefine the world’s largest, biggest, tallest…, including: the world’s tallest hotel, currently the Al Arab Burjab, to be broken by another one in Dubai; the world’s largest mall, with the world’s largest indoor ski slope (Dubai land Ski Dome) which will be twice the size of the current record holder, Ski Dubai. The world’s largest airport is also being constructed in Dubai, it is estimated to be twice the size of Hong Kong, not the airport, but twice the size of the island of Hong Kong! Than there is Dubai World, an amusement park and entertainment complex, basically Disney World on crack. Again estimated to be two times bigger than the current record holder. There is a Hydropolis, an underwater hotel, that was designed and initially constructed in Germany, than will be taken apart and reconstructed in the waters off Dubai. Other projects, include: Dubai Sports City, Dubai Science World, Marina Dubai… It is said that more than 25% of all the world´s construction cranes are currently in Dubai, seriously, if you can dream it, they will build it. They don’t just want to break the record, they want to obliterate it, and establish the fact that the record will stand for sometime, if not forever.

Liking the numbers side of the projects, I could never find out the budget: proposed or actual for any of these projects. Supposedly there is bank financing behind these projects, but I really have a hard time believing that these project are in the black, or will be in anytime soon, and therefore any banking institution willing to front the cash. My theory, based on what Saeed told me, is that they are just using their free money, while they have it, than when the money printing machine of Abu Dhabi runs dry, they well just write off the construction costs, and the only monthly expenditures they will have to worry about is the overhead. If you think about it, it´s probably not much different than some of the development companies back home, that originated from historical farmlands, with minimal or no land cost basis.

Having seen plenty of Dubai in just two days, I was off the next morning, finally for South America.

Erin, one of my good buddies that I met on the Russia tour has done me a great favor, without her knowing it. First a little background: Erin is from Regina, the Saskatchewan Province of Canada. We met early on the trip, actually within the first few hours after the kick start of the tour. Along with a handful of others we quickly became good friends, and in some cases even seat mates on one of the many bus rides, as we toured northeastern Europe. Easy to pick on, and adorable, Erin was one of my favorite persons on the trip, especially to joke around with and tease, plus when she blushes she literally turns pink to red. Educated, smart, charismatic, and just a great person, Erin reminded me of many of my great friends from home. Ok, she is probably bright red now, if she is reading this, but we really did develop a great friendship and respect for each other, when we agreed or disagreed with each other, on various subjects. We even had a pact together where we would bail each other out, if we thought the other would need a little help, such as if she needed to be saved from a guy, or people pressuring her to drink. Of course she never needed to save me from any unwanted advances from any girls, insert your own punchline here: _____.

Okay, the favor. Erin wrote an amazingly detailed on-line journal of our adventures and mis-adventures of our time on the tour together. As I was often involved/around during some of her mischievous, and at times rather tame activities this could easily have been my own journal entry, except that she did a much better job at detailing the activities, than I could ever have imagined. The great thing is that it adds a different perspective/spin, to seeing my trip from a different set of eyes. When I read her journal, I actually could not put it down, and found myself smiling and laughing out loud, as I re-lived that part of our trip. You may also find it rather entertaining when she provides commentary on my rather questionable antics. Enjoy, and thanks Erin, you are welcomed to join me on my travels anytime, maybe on my next world tour, as that would mean that I can retire from the writing of this blog.

The link to her journal, starting on June 16th:

http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/eltanner/russia/1182044940/tpod.html

Somewhere along the way, it changed for me. And, as a result, it has become more difficult to write this blog. It has been a constant battle of documenting my path and the sights, versus my thoughts, versus the history and the stories behind the place and it’s significance. As, most know and by just a quick read of this blog, it is evident, that I can and am long winded, but I feel that many of places and people I have met along the way, I can never use enough or even the correct words to properly describe them or it. With that said, I feel that I have to fast forward and try to at least catch up to my intercontinental flight, otherwise the last portion of my stay in Southeast Asia, will never be documented.

Leaving Siem Reap, was probably one of the toughest places that I had to say goodbye to. The accommodation, comfortable; the food, tasty and economical; but more importantly were the people: the friends that I met and made during my two weeks there. My days would be spent with the kids, teachers, and other volunteers at Green Geckos. And the nights, various adventures up and down Bar Street with fellow backpackers. I seriously met some great and fun friends during my stay there. First there were Rhea and Janelle, than there was Tara, Liza and Stephan, followed by Amy, Sophie and Lara, there was never a dull moment. There was the Deadfish Tavern which is beyond words, but a must stop for dinner, not for the food, but for the many and random distractions. Between the dancing Cambodian hula girls with the irregularly bent-back fingers; to the dumb waiters, carrying the drinks up to the next levels; to the alligator feeding pit; but the best had to be the first night, when I went with Stephan, as we watched two ducks fight over scraps of food that people would throw at them on the floor of the restaurants. There were also many other nights of misadventures at bar Angkor What?, and the Special Happy Pizza restaurant, where you can get a small, medium or large pizza pie, with no, small, medium, or large order of “happiness.”

On the day after the 19th anniversary (January 7, 1979) of Cambodia’s independence from the Khmer Rouge, I took a express boat for Phnom Penh, instead of another boring bus ride. The boat ride itself took around three hours, but the total trip took closer to five with all the waiting around for the bus and the boat to leave. If you ever have a chance to duplicate this leg of the trip, be sure to sit on the top of the cabin roof, as there were great views of some floating villages (homes built on silts, high up in the air, due to the varying water depths during the seasons), and as you pass down south through Tonal Sap, a huge lake, you think that you are in the middle of an ocean, minus the waves, as you see nothing but water.

The first day, in Phnom Penh, I visited the Royal Palace, also the home of the Silver Pagoda, which houses a room with 5000 silver tiles, weighing 1 kg each. Inside the room, are various National treasures, including an Emerald Buddha, with heaps of diamonds, gems, and finished with gold. I than called upon a moto taxi, that whisked me through the city, for a stop at the Russian Market, which back in the day, was the place that you could literally find and buy almost anything. Today it is a place where tourist go to buy fake goods, and the locals to buy odds and ends. For dinner, I came across a pizzeria called Nike’s, so of course I had to eat there, just for kicks.

The next day, I started with a visit to The Killing Fields of Choeung Ek, located approximately a dozen kilometers outside the city. A little background info, during the Khmer Rouge’s control of Cambodia, between 1975 to 1979, it is estimated that they murdered in excess of 2 million people, some estimates have the number as high as 3 million, keep in mind the total population count was approximately 7 million. Similar to the holocaust, it is questionable if the rest of the World was fully aware of what was happening in Cambodia, at the time of the genocide. The leader Pol Pot, was a vicious leader, commanding his forces to kill the innocent in mass numbers, and in an attempt to save precious bullets, many were bludgeoned to death, with strikes to the skull/head. At The Killing Fields there is a Memorial Stupa, with 8000 skulls which were unearthed at the site. It is estimated that there are at least 129 mass graves on the site, with only 86 being unearthed to-date. The government has stopped additional unearthing of the graves. There are many if not hundreds of mass grave sites around the country, but The Killing Fields, has the highest concentration of the graves. What makes the Cambodian history, even more tragic, is the fact that the people did not know what the Khmer Rouge was about to do, as it was thought that they were coming in to stabilize the country. There is a picture of the Khmer Rouge marching into Phnom Penh, with kids and family celebrating that their saviors were coming, only to have many meet their death soon there after. What makes it that much more tragic, is that the rest of the world, did not pay any attention, at one point the United Nations, even recognized the Khmer Rouge, as the official representative and voice for Cambodia.

Next, I ventured back into the city with Lara, who I ran into as I was leaving the Killing Fields, to visit Tuol Sleng Museum, aka S-21 (Secret Prison 21). Originally a school, S-21 became home to where the Khmer Rouge housed and tortured over 17,000 people. The classrooms were converted to torture chambers and cells, where they experimented with different means of torture in an effort to extract information from their hostages. Lara and I hired a guide, who explain the function of each room, and the day in the life of the hostages. The campus is flanked on three sites by the former classrooms, and now housing picture exhibits: one of the victims, mixed in with their captures, who unbelievably were mostly teenagers. The guide explained that in many cases the youngest member of the Khmer Rouge, were often the most heartless, enforcing the most pain, in an effort to prove their loyalty to the Rouge. The victims and the Rouge members can be differentiated in the pictures, as the victims had numbers, and the Rouge members wore caps. The style of the numbers, also helped date when the pictures were taken.

In the final building there is an interesting picture exhibition located upstairs. It was completed by a photo-journalist, and provides an old and more recent picture with a quote and background of a/the member of the Khmer Rouge. It was unbelievable how most of these people, both man and woman, would somehow rationalize their involvement and criticize that their superiors should be punished. I didn’t know how to feel, almost hearing as I read these explanations from these murders that they did what they had to, to survive and it was their commanding officers fault that they participated in the murders and tortures, than to see a picture of them with their family, and thinking that they had a life long after all the bad and inconceivable things that they did.

Something completely random, but very interesting. My friend Liza from Green Geckos, shared with me her six degrees of separation with Cambodia. Her mom, was married, but widowed before meeting her father. Her mother’s first husband was a journalist from Australia, in the jungles of Cambodia to do a story, I don’t think it had anything to do with the Khmer Rouge. The guy went missing, and his body was never found. It has been concluded that , he along with his co-worker are the two Australians who were killed by the Khmer Rouge during that era. When Liza and her mother visited Cambodia a couple of years ago, they visited The Killing Fields and S-21, she saw the picture and name assigned to the picture, and cried out that’s not David! Apparently, they mixed the picture up, by attaching a picture of the co-worker, with her husband’s name.

After that heart wrenching morning and afternoon, we grabbed our moto-taxi and headed back to the Russian market, as I arrived during closing time the night before. I picked  up a few collared shirts, in an effort to clean up from all my white shirts which weren’t so white anymore, and who says that an unemployed traveling bum, has to look like one. Later that night, I got word from my other buddies, Amy and Sophie that they were in town and staying down the road. So I met up with them later in the night, and we went and grabbed a drink, oh I mean soda.

The following morning, I caught my AirAsia flight back to Bangkok, in an effort to once again submit my visa application for Brazil. I will save my drama story of my time at the Brazilian Embassy for another time, as it is a story within itself. Having learned that it would not be possible to get my visa in time to make my flight, I changed my flights to: Hong Kong, Dubai and Sao Paulo, Brazil, for a third time, and hopefully the last.

Now with a week and a half to kill, I decided to stay in Bangkok for a few days to chill and to take in some more sight seeing that I didn’t do on my previous visit. I visited the Jim Thompson House Museum, he was an American ex-pat who changed the face of the Thai silk industry, and the Chatchawk Weekend Market, the largest swapmeet type market on this side of Asia. I was even able to catch the Ray Jones Jr and Flex Trinadad fight at a bar on Khao San Road.

The change in schedule due to waiting for the visa, than gave me a chance to meet up with Katy and Maddie, who I met early on, during the Russia tour. The girls are from Oz, and have traveled together on & off, since the Russia tour, but this trip to Thailand was the last hurrah. So, in an effort to see another set of familiar faces, I headed to Phuket to meet up with a couple of my favorite Ozzies, for a couple of days. Upon arriving in Phuket, and checking into my hostel, wouldn’t you know it, but I hear Sophie, screaming my name as I check in, and she shared with me that Amy was just a day behind. Did I tell you how much we are truly like lemmings. During the next couple days, I sponged off Maddie, Katy and her brother’s hotel pool, and battled each other in our version of beach ball hot potato. We exchanged stories about the path we each took, since going our separate ways after the tour, about who we still keep in touch with, and of course some of the gossip that wasn’t ready apparent to all of us during the trip. Honesty, we all felt that we had such a great time during that tour, as we met some really great people. But, all in all there wasn’t any juicy gossip to share, just great memories. I have always regretted not including much of my three weeks on that Russia tour (only 9 days were actually in Russia), as it was an amazing experience and I met some people that I still communicate with while I am on the road, and some that I hope and expect to stay in touch with for many years to come, as they have now become my friends. Katy and Maddie are two of them, it’s almost impossible for me to mention one and not think of the other. They are both so different but yet the same, as they are full of energy and personality, both bright and strong individuals, with a great mind, that led to some interesting discussion/debates in the internet room and on the multiple bus rides. The amazing thing is that they are not even 21 years of age yet, I only wished that I could have been that worldly, adventurous, smart, and brave at that age. As we discussed the road ahead, Katy and Maddie, made me realize that the three of us, at least as far as we knew it, were the last ones standing out of all our tour-mates. Everyone else, had finished their trips, and had been home for months. The baton had been carried by only the three of us for the last couple months, and now they were officially passing their portion of the baton to me, to carry it as long as I could. The girls had mixed emotions, as they expressed to me, that they were tired, and although they would miss the road in more ways than they could ever imagine, in many ways they were ready to head home and to sleep in their beds, again. I made a last ditch effort to get them to go out for a late night of partying, but they were beat and now counting down the hours till their flight home. Great to see you girls again, Katy and Maddie.

Everyone is familiar with the tragedy of the Tsunami of Christmas Day 2004 (Dec 26th, on that side of the world). Amazingly, little evidence of the damage and destruction, remains today, only the random peddler of video clips for sale on a CD. The sea front boulevards are filled with hotels, resorts, and stores, in all shapes, colors and sizes. The main bar street is like out of a movie, filled with people dressed for a big night out, to beach bums in swim trunks, to drag queens and lady-boys, and guys advertising for the Muay Thai Boxing match later that night. To be fair there are many more secluded areas and beaches in Phuket, away from Patong, and away from the sin seekers and freaks, but unless you are with your significant other, or don’t want to meet people, you usually end up at the freak show that is Patong.

After another day, Amy and I decided to take a trip out to see the island of Ko Phi Phi, which according to everybody was the definition of what an island of Thailand is suppose to be like. This island was supposedly, almost completely washed out during the Tsunami, and again, you really couldn’t tell. After a day at the island, where the weather gods did not agree with me, I headed back to Phuket, so that I could make my way back slowly to Bangkok to retrieve my visa.

Back in Bangkok for the third time, I mainly just chilled and decided to pass on the number one main tourist sight in Bangkok. I decided that for once I would not follow the lemmings, and thought that it would be humorous to skip the main sight in a city that I frequented the most, so I passed on the visit to the Royal Palace and it’s version of the Emerald Buddha. Of course, I did not say goodbye to Southeast Asia, without one final massage, did I mention how much of a massage whore I am. Anybody who knows me back home, know that I love massages, and for less than ten bucks for an hour massage, I had my share of massages during my tenure in Southeast Asia. You all can rest easy, none of them were the ones with the happy endings.

The next morning, I woke up before 4 am, to catch my early flight to Shenzen, located just an hour outside of Hong Kong, on mainland China. My flight ended up being almost six hour delayed, which although frustrating, was the first time I had experienced any major flight delays on this whole trip, so I took it better than most of the other passengers. When I got to Shenzen, I walked into town in search for a China Merchant Bank, in hopes of opening an overseas account, where I can wire US Dollars into one account, and transfer funds into a separate account in RMBs (China’s currency). Less than five months before when I got to China the exchange rate was at 7.5 and now it was closing in on 7.2, and with no end in sight. With China’s booming economy, and talks about US’s sluggish economy closing in on a recession, and the backlash of the housing and sub-prime woes, I needed to use what little I learned about the global economy from this trip, to try to earn or really save the value of my assets. Unfortunately, I was not able to find that branch of banks, and had to hope to locate a bank that can service my needs in Hong Kong.

Now, many at home, but even more on the road have questioned my path and the countries and cities I have chosen to visit on this trip. The long and short of it is, that I wanted to see the places where the city’s and cultural landscape is changing right before our eyes. Some due to the ever-changing political climate and leaders in power, other times due to the economy and the influx of dollars due to tourism. How often have you heard, you should have seen Costa Rica, Prague or Croatia, before everybody found it. Well this trip was going to cover a lot of those places, that I knew if I waited to visit in five or ten years, I may have missed the boat. So that explains: Russia, China, Laos, Cambodia, and most of South America. But, at the same time, I couldn’t ignore all those modern cities just next door, in an effort to stick to some silly theme, like my avoidance of fast food chains from home, which is why Berlin, Istanbul, and Prague where included. Than there is just pure history, and feeling like a kid again, which explains: Egypt and Jordan. So with that said, my next five days would be in some of the most capitalistic and modern cities in the world: Hong Kong, Macau and Dubai.

Just call me a Philatelist:

First remember, I arrived in China from Thailand, than caught a express bus from Shenzen, which took you the borders of mainland China, to get your exit stamp (Stamp set 1) and entry visa to Hong Kong. It didn’t turn out to be so express, when we had to wait over an hour for the bus at the border check, when the total ride itself should have taken only one. I got dropped off at the Kowloon area of Hong Kong, which is not on Hong Kong Island itself, but only a short five minute ferry ride away. Now all the backpackers stay in the Chungking Mansion area, as the guesthouses are much more expensive than the rest of Asia, and this was basically bottom of the barrel. When I hopped of the bus and walked a couple blocks, you could have told me I was anywhere other than Asian. The sidewalks were mostly filled with immigrants from India and the continent of Africa. As I walked with my backpack on, I was the immediate target of the guesthouse touts, telling me that Chungking was crap, over-priced, and full. It was seriously India, all over again. Using my Jedi skills, that I developed in the real-India, to decipher truth from BS, from the touts, I just waved them off and continued on. The mansions are anything but a mansion, they are actually just a series of 18 story boxed buildings, filled with small stalled stores on the first two floors, and filled with guesthouses the rest of the way up, with rooms that literally had no extra floor space, than just enough room for you to walk around two sides of the bed. Having been warned, I was pleasantly satisfied with my tiny, and mostly clean room, at the Payless Hotel. Since I arrived much later than expected, I just grabbed dinner, and hit the streets to get the lay of the land, on the first night. I did run into a night market, and almost made a mistake by making some not needed purchases, because I got confused with the exchange rates. For some reason I was stuck on the US Dollar being worth twenty, thirty or forty of the local denominations like in India, Thailand, Taiwan… when the value was only 7.8 of the Hong Kong Dollar. Luckly I caught myself before I bought that flashlight to replace the one I lost back in Cambodia, still it was only seven USD, but I thought it was closer to two.

The next morning I caught the ferry to Hong Kong Island, and went to the financial district and found the corporate offices of HSBC, and opened the overseas account that I was looking for. The only problem, that I learned was that due to banking regulations in China, an account in Hong Kong versus mainland China, are very different. But they offered to send my application and to act transparently, as if they were a branch on the mainland, the only remaining wrinkle was that as a foreigner, I am allowed to wire funds in, but can only withdraw the funds if I am physically at the designated branch, itself. So I had to pick a branch, and risk that any deposited funds, would be stuck there until, I went to visit, so I chose Beijing (Olympics 2008?). The girl, helping me, understood my dilemma, so she told me off-the-record that she would just open the account for me without any deposit requirement, but if I changed my mind, they would just close the account after six months, no worries. Having completed the most business  related-type transaction, in more than half a year, I spent the rest of the afternoon sightseeing on the island, with a ride on the Peak Tram to Victoria Peak, a quick walk through the Botonical Gardens, and stroll through the trendy and yuppie restaurant, bars and club area of SoHo and Lang Wu Kong. Having walked through the heart of the island, I heard the call, and it said, let’s go see Macau. So I headed to the port, bought a ticket, got my Hong Kong exit stamp (Set 2) and was off to the gambling capital of the world. Yeah, you heard right, believe it or not, back in 2006, Macau beat out Las Vegas for the gambling capital, as it grossed more gambling revenues than Sin City.

After passing through immigration, I gave myself a small budget to gamble with and hit the ATM, to pull out some Macaunese Dollars. As you exit through the doors of the ferry terminal, many casino employees await to greet you and to direct you to their free shuttle, which will take you to the front door of the casino, with a promise of a free trip back. First, I visited the Venetian, which was very similar to the one in Las Vegas, with the large shopping centre, even with the canals and gondolas. Next, I stopped by the Sands, which is suppose to be one of the larger casinos in the world. My third stop was the Wynn, which again reminded me of it’s counterpart in Las Vegas. I decided to pass on the MGM, and to see a couple of the more local flavored casinos, starting with the historic old Lisboa casino. It did not disappoint (or maybe it did), as it was old and had a very unique style and layout, meaning it had lower ceilings, was smokey, and the layout was circular, with a gambling area in the center and at each quadrant of the outer perimeter. Having my lungs die-ing for fresher air, I crossed the street to visit the more modern version, known as the Grand Lisbon. Different than Las Vegas style casinos, many if not most of Macau’s casinos have multiple floors, not two or three, but in some cases up to five. Since the Grand Lisbon was different, in that there is no counterpart in the States, and had higher ceilings, I decided to lay out my first bet. Originally the plan was to play a couple hands of blackjack and to find a poker game. But, I quickly realized that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore as I did not find many of the games I am use to at home, I couldn’t even find a game of Pai-Gow. Instead every other table was Baccarat or Sic-Bo. From what I could figure out, the best way to explain Sic-Bo, is that it uses dice like Yahtzee and the object is to bet on a number: one through six; and you are paid based on the frequency that number appears on the rolled dice, or you can bet based on the sum being odd or even, the range of the sum, low or high, or the actual sum value itself. Sickening, they also had War, which is one game that I just don’t understand betting on. So, being disappointed with my choices in card games, I decided to participate in one of Hong Kong’s oldest and richest sport of betting on the ponies, aka horse races. Unlike at home, the horses I selected were not based on reading the past performances of the horse, it’s speed rating, practice times, trainer, jockey, or purse levels, instead I just picked them based on random selections/number, and the appearance of the horses as they pasted the TV set. Probably in the end, using either the random selection or research method would have yielded in the same results, with the house winning. But, I did have my couple seconds of excitement, as I would chose a couple to a few horses for each (of the two) races, one would be a longer shot, one more of the money line favorites, and one somewhere in the middle. During the second race I bet, the longshot that I picked, which was about 50 to 1, actually won, but I only included the horse in a exacta/quinella wager, and because the other two horses didn’t finish in second place, I missed out on a big payout. If one of the other two horses came in second, it could have easily payed for my stay in Hong Kong, and possibly even Dubai.

As, I started to work my way out of the casino, I saw a sign that this casino was introducing the game of Craps to Macau. So I went and found the table, and decided to play a couple rounds, before catching one of the later ferries back to Hong Kong. I ended up playing for a couple hours, at one point, down to what I allotted myself to spend/lose, than the table got hot. After the short but important hot streak, I cashed in my chips and walked away with 450 more Hong Kong Dollars than I started with. Not big stakes, but it would cover the cost of my ferry ride back and forth (approximately 150 HKD each way), and my meals for the day. Oh yeah, the strangest thing, was that the casino would not accept my Macaunese Patacas, so I had to exchange them to HKD and pay the couple percentage points for the exchange juice, the house always manages to win. Sometime just after midnight, I arrived back at the ferry terminal, got my exit stamp from Macua (Set 3) and returned back to Hong Kong.

The next morning, not really wanting to take in any of the shopping opportunities that Hong Kong has to offer, I decided to go back to China for half a day. I caught the subway to the border and passed through immigration on both sides for my 4th complete set of stamps (exit Hong Kong). The afternoon was spent roaming through the cheesy 5-story swapmeet, since the rain clouds were not agreeing with me, and not interested in buying an souvenirs, I decided to play my entertaining game of how much does that cost, and you do know that it is fake, right? So, for entertainment, I went window shopping for Jordan Retros (basketball shoes) and fancy watches (Tag Heuer, Breitling, Rolex…), but only ended up spending less than $20 USD dollars total on a leg and back massage (one hour each), lunch, and ski hat with a pair of ski gloves for Dubai, more on that later. I than went back through immigration, got my exit stamp from China (Set 5) and re-entered into Hong Kong to do a little more sightseeing at the Avenue of the Stars, and walked along the shoreline, to watch the beautiful skyline of Hong Kong Island light up as day turned into night. Finally, I grabbed one last dinner at a Chinese restaurant, picked up my bags, and caught my flight just after midnight, headed for Dubai, of course that meant completing the 6th set of stamps in three days, when I left Hong Kong, one final last time.
 

Somebody very special, that I met early in the trip, once told me: you don’t always have to be searching for something, usually when your not looking it finds you.

Yesterday, after arriving in Itacare, I timed my first and last swim of the day with the setting of the sun. As I arrived at the beach next to Vista Pointe, I witnessed one of the most unique and beautiful things that I have ever seen. Instead of looking in the direction of the setting sun, I was fixated in the opposite direction, the rising of a full and bright moon just above the horizon, of rocks jutting into the sea, while the sky was still changing colors from blue to purple, than eventually grey.

Tonight, in hopes of capturing that beauty forever, I returned with my camera in hand, ready to snap away. When I arrived, I saw roughly the same number of people at Vista Pointe as the night before, but this time with not a cloud in the sky, the moon never made it’s grand entrance. As I walked back to the hostel just before dark, having never seen the moon, for some odd reason, I just couldn’t stop smiling. It seemed funny that, when I went looking for that picture it wasn’t there. But when I went to just take something else in, and just went to appreciate and enjoy it, I found something even more amazing than I could ever have imagined.

The reason I am sharing this, is because I may have worried some of you by my previous Diary entry, and I thank you for your concern. I am still tired from the constant moving, but after finding something pretty amazing for a couple days and than losing it, I have developed a new perspective: to just take this trip as it comes. For all the ups, I consider myself lucky, and will appreciate and bask in the moment. For all the downs, there is probably a lesson learned, and makes you appreciate the ups even more.

Hope all is well.

On the first day of the New Year, I headed over to Green Geckos, a centre where they provide schooling for kids, who otherwise would be begging in the streets of Siem Reap. In many cases, these kids represent the sole bread winner for their family, as a result it takes convincing/bribing by the centre to the parents, to allow their kids to come to the centre in lieu of working the street.

Over the course of the next week, I would help out Yud, a new teacher with his mornings class, than for the mid-morning classes, I would either step into another class, or play with the older kids, who did not have class until the afternoon session. The younger kids, have two classes in the morning, than go home or play in the afternoon, and in the case of a few lucky ones, they go to a formal public school in the afternoon. The schedule for the older kids, is exactly in reverse, they have the public school in the morning, than come to the centre for lunch, followed by English and math class in the afternoon. I had a chance to sit in all the different classes, sometimes helping with the teaching of the curriculum, and other times, the harsh disciplinarian in the back, looking for the kids goofing off.

The teachers and volunteers, I met during my short stint there, were truly amazing, they are the true givers that you hear about, and feel that you could never measure up to. Some go from one organization to another, only to return home, to another one of those jobs, where you are paid little to nothing and again helping people. Some of the amazing people I met are: Yud, formally Buddhist monk, who started at the centre as a teacher, the same day I did. I helped him at every morning session, and we kind of figured out how to deal with the kids, together. He speaks four or five languages effectively, and know many words in a few more languages. Kathy from England, a nurse at home, is taking a break to volunteer as a English teacher at the centre for three months. David, from Oz, who was at his second volunteer organization, in as many weeks. He and his girlfriend, arrange their holiday travels based on volunteering opportunities. Visit a place, volunteer for a fews days to a week. Could you imagine how long this trip would take me, quite possibly the rest of my life, but that is an act that only the truly devoted can commit to. I seriously felt about an inch tall, when hearing their stories: peace core, homeless shelters, orphanages… And, there are my two buddies: Tara and Liza. Tara, was the one that introduced me to the centre, and was signed up to teach various classes for a month, as she is finishing up Uni/college with a social work orientated degree. Liza is a teacher from Oz, and is a family friend of Tania the proprietor of the centre, and would be in Siem Reap for three weeks away from her job teaching kids, to teach more kids. Did I say how, I feel about a millimeter tall, while I travel the world, enjoying the sights and sounds that the “haves” (instead of the have-nots) have to offer. But they were all great, really appreciative of the little assistance that I could offer. I think that my greatest asset, was that I was a guy, and could keep the bigger boys distracted, by having them try to wrestle me down. At one point, they wanted to see how many of them it would take to pile on me and pin me down before I would call out for mercy, I think they watch way too much WWF (wrestling). Honestly, not sure what was up, but there is a regular channel dedicated 24/7 to wrestling, and I am not talking Roman Grecko style.

This time, the experience was much more different than my few hours at the orphanage at Beijing, as you get to know the kids and their stories. It was very eye opening and at times heart touching and aching, as my previous fears and hesitancy that I expressed before were realized. These kids, see it all the time, foreigners coming to see them at the centre, sometimes bearing candy, food, or toys, they run around with the kids, and maybe come back for just a few days, only to disappear back into their own world, feeling much better about themselves, and all the great things they did back in that third world country. But back, at the centre, are these kids, knowing that you may or may not be back tomorrow, next week, or ever. So what is their motivation or incentive to open up/to befriend you, only to have you disappear and to disappoint, like many other adults/people in their lives. A couple of the older kids would ask me every morning, will you be back tomorrow, how much longer, and when you go home, when will you come back? I could not lie, and would only say, I don’t know, but hopefully someday, to which they said: maybe, someday, or I don’t know, always means the same thing: never.

But, obviously this should not prevent you, anyone else, and myself to try to help out the little that we can. I did have a chance to befriend a couple of the kids in particular, that I would secretly dub as my favorites, and would look for and hangout with during their free times. There was one of the older girls, that asked me on the first day to teach her a little Chinese, she had already learned most of the vocabulary needed for welcome greetings, all from a book she came across. Each day, when she arrived in the afternoon, she would hunt me down, and ask me: Ni hao ma (How are you), waiting for my response of: Wo hen how, ne na (I am very well, and you), so that she could learn a couple more words that day.

Sarm, at four, is destined to be quite the hand-full. On my first day, as the kids checked me out from afar, as they often do with a new straggler, was the first to offer me an olive branch, actually a soccer ball. He threw me the ball, in request of me to toss it back to him, so that he could do a header back towards me. Sarm, is like a cartoon character, as he is one of the youngest kids at the centre, but he thinks he is one of the oldest running around bossing many of the other kids around, with great success, I might add. I would crack up constantly, watching him run in his waddling form, with snot running down his nose, as he would confiscate the soccer ball from the other kids, and he would point and yell directions for the other kids to follow. One of the days, Tania had a special announcement, so before lunch, she gathered the kids and told them the exciting news, that a few of them had been accepted into the prestigious private school named New York, turns out Tania and her husband, Rem, worked out a program with New York, to accept a handful of the four to six year olds into their school at a discounted rate, to be paid by Green Geckos. Sarm, was one the kids accepted. As each kid was called out to stand in front of the group, the selected would smile in happiness at having the opportunity and honour, and the other kids, would clap and yell in celebration for their friends/brothers/sisters. It was touching, as they were truly excited and happy for their peers, and congratulated each one them, as they had won the lottery. When Sarm was called he marched up to the front, jumped on the bench, and raised his arms in victory, he than yelled out to the crowd/ his audience/fans, as translated to us by Rem: I am going to study hard, and be the best student, I am going to be number one in class! And the rest of the kids cheered and applauded.

Barom, one of the oldest and brightest kids at the centre, kind of reminded me of myself, not because he was bright. But, because he was: skinny, but still athletic, he roamed around from crowd to crowd, but never hungout with the same kids twice. He had plenty of friends, and would interact with any/many anytime he wanted, but many of the times he was happy to just hang around by himself reading a book, building a kite, or kicking a soccer ball. In math class, he was well beyond the teachings of the much younger kids, so Kathy asked me to take him aside, and provide him a more challenging set of problems. From that, and many other conversations that we had, I probably got to know Barom as a person more than any other kid at the centre. I know that he has the aptitude to succeed in the world, in and far beyond Cambodia, I only hope that he has as many opportunities as his ability deserves. Again, reminding me of myself, when I went over to tell Barom that I was leaving, and that this was my last day, he just looked at me, without any emotion, gave me a quick half wave, turned and walked away, it was actually very crushing, but probably the same-thing that I would have done, if I was in his shoes.

Dear Diary:

Today, I am tired, fatigued, exhausted. Today, is the first day of the rest of your life, isn’t that what they say. Make everyday special, especially if it’s a vacation day/holiday. Are there really days off, from your days off?

Life on the road, it’s suppose to be, and in many ways, it is glamorous. But, much like life at home, it has it’s ups and downs, and your good days and bad. Everyday brings with it new adventures, but also many unknowns. There are news streets to navigate, and new names to learn. Someday, like today, you are just tired, and don’t want to define yourself, based on how long you have traveled for, how much longer you have, where you have been, where was your favorite… In many ways, you lose your identity, and are now defined by your resume, the stamps in your passport.

On these days you long for some sense of stability, in knowing that you don’t have to repack your bag in the morning, you already know where the good places are to grab lunch and/or dinner, and know that you will have good company to share the meal. You miss your friends, who already know who you are and your history, and you can just talk about everything or nothing in particular. But alas, you have comfort in knowing that these days like today will pass, and that you are truly on a trip of a lifetime. Than again, you feel better yet, in knowing that this doesn’t have to be the only trip of your lifetime, so you don’t have to squeeze everything in at once, so in essence you are allowed that day off, that sick day. Just as I convince myself of this, I sit up, get dressed, and tell myself, that I need to go and see something new. However, I am now more sure than ever, that I need to set up base camp somewhere for an extended amount of time, to recharge my batteries, to absorb something more, culture, language, something, and not just the life of a nomad, vagabond, backpacker, lemming…

After three weeks of having constant company, between family in Taiwan, and Tom’s visit, I was once again going to be Han Solo, without a Chewbacca. So, with four more days left on my Angkor Wat pass, I switched back to the backpacker lifestyle, and moved into one of the only hostels that I have been able to find in Southeast Asia. Just for clarification, there are hotels, guesthouses, and hostels. The main difference between a hotel and guesthouse, is that they generally don’t make up your room each day at a guesthouse, there is no hotel lobby, and the level of amenities are generally below what you expect at a Best Western, but than again, sometimes you are pleasantly surprised. I assume, that due to the abundant number of reasonably priced guesthouses throughout Southeast Asia, the business economics/pricing of hostels/shared dorms just doesn’t make sense, but as a backpacker, you really can’t beat the opportunity to meet fellow travelers, that hostel-living provides.

The Siem Reap Hostel, opened just a few months before, is not identified in any guide book, or on any of the tourist maps, but has become one of my favorite hostels. The owners have so much confidence, that the rooms are finished with white paint, white tiles, and white bed sheets and covers. This may sound a bit boring, bland, and institutionalized, but to me it meant the ability to discern between dirty from clean. After spending nights in places, where I would actually add clothing such a jog pants and hoodie/jumper to go to bed, to avoid actually touching the sheets and getting bit by mosquitoes, it was great to find a place that you could have filmed a Mr. Clean commercial. But wait there is more, on every floor there were two common areas: one, for entertainment, such as movie area, games or billiards; and a separate chill out area, with hammock, bean bags, or couches. Than there is the ground floor with bar/restaurant, internet room (free and with at least six stations), and the topper: an indoor/covered pool! This place was amazing, especially considering the low price of $10 USD a night (which believe it or not, was not the cheapest). And than, there was the food from the kitchen: the burger was great, by Asian standards, and the pork chop simply divine. Needless to say, I ended up extending my stay well beyond the original plan of three nights to many more. What made the experience even more amazing was the great people I met, just by hanging out at the hostel common areas, but there was that one guy, there is always that one guy, I will get to him in a minute.

For the first couple days, I just wanted to chill and refresh from the constant days of sightseeing at Angkor Wat. During the day, I would walk into town to grab a bite, than lazily pass the day, reading, writing in my journal/blog, swim and nap. I did manage to squeeze a visit to the mini-Angkor Wat, created by a famous local artist, a bit anti-climatic, and not worth the hassle it took to find it.

One evening, I took in a cello concert performed by Dr. Beat, called Beatocello. Its a free concert which he preforms twice a week, in an effort to build awareness and raise money for the children hospitals that they have opened/are opening for treating kids with various illness and diseases, including Dengue and HIV.The concert is much more of a public service announcement with an important message, addressing the severity of the health care problem in Cambodia, with the high number of ill children, the substandard conditions and medical attention, and the low level of awareness or concern on a global level. He threw out many statistics, comparing the heightened level awareness of other diseases such as SARs with its lower quantity of infected; causalities, as compared to the issues/struggle that the Cambodian children are facing today. Dr Beat, has obviously perfected more than just his skills as a doctor and at pulling on the strands of the cello, as when you looked around the audience, you can easily see that he pulled at the strings of many people’s heart from the many teary eyed people in the room. Prior to that concert, I had already entertained the idea of finding a place to chill out for a week or so, and see if I could offer my help in some sort of community service, but now I was convinced that the time and place was: here and now, or at least after the New Years, just a couple days away.

Now finding a place to help out is not as easy as it sounds. Have you tried to volunteer before? At home in the States, they want to run all kind of background checks, and personality tests, especially when working with kids, which totally makes sense. But, for overseas, they want you to donate money, and not just a few bucks. I started to research and asked around, the organization I found in Siem Reap was asking in excess of $700 USD for one week. A bit stunned at the price tag, I asked around and happened to share a breakfast table with Tara (Oz), who had just come to Cambodia, and was going to volunteer at a street kids centre for three weeks. I told her about my research and findings, and she told me to just go with her to the centre, as she knew the manager, and would help to see if they could use my services. Although, they were fully staffed with volunteers, they accepted me, and told me to just show up on the first, bright and early and they would find me something to keep me busy.

So, that meant a nice quiet New Years Eve, right? No way, I mean, when else would I be in Cambodia, Siem Reap, home of a Wonder of the World, for a New Years Eve bash. I had met Rhea and Janella in the internet room, when I heard them talking about USC’s pending Rose Bowlgame, and found out that they are Trojan alums. When they found out I was a fellow So Cal native, we decided to hangout, grab a bite and talk about American things, like football and basketball, instead of soccer and cricket. We even got up early on New Years Eve, to catch another hazy sunrise at the Angkor Wat. But, here is where the story comes in about the random guy. On New Years Eve, this guy checks into my room, as I walk in, I hear this groan, not knowing that someone was there, I apologized for turning on the light, and introduced myself. He responded with his name (which I quickly forgot) and stated that he was seriously ill, and was apologizing in advance for hogging up the restroom and in the event that he has any incidents. With not much more to say, I excused myself, and hoped that he got better soon. When I returned from the pool, the hostel manager, asked me to speak with him and see if he wanted to be transferred to a seperate room, which he gladly accepted. I than, helped move him to his new room, on the upper floor. Later that night, a bunch of us, met up in the lobby for some pre-party festivities before heading out for the New Years celebration. As the group was ready to roll out, the guy showed up downstairs in a daze, asking what everyone was up to. One of the girls told him of our plans, and not knowing about his state invited him along. I was surprised when, he actually accepted, so a couple of us asked if he was sure, considering how sick he had professed himself to be. He replied that he could make it a few hours till midnight, and really didn’t want to ring in the New Years, in bed. As he got ready, most of the others took off, and just the three of us, the So Cal group, waited and told the others that we would catch up. When we got to Bar Street most of the restaurants were packed, and the street was gearing up for the street party in just a couple of hours. Luckily, we were able to find a table at a nice restaurant, and settled in for a celebratory meal. Still at this point, Janella and Rhea, were not really aware of how sick this guy had been earlier in the day. But that quickly changed, less than ten minutes after we sat down. As we were chit chatting about various subjects, we noticed that he was now very silent and his eyes had grown very wide, than he started to moan, as to say: oh no. Next he said: I am not feeling very good, to which we responded, maybe you should head back, or go to the restroom. He just responded: I’m not going to make it, I’m not going to make it. I told him: try, go to the restroom. Next thing you know, he curled over to the side and there it went. Now not to be graphic, but it wasn’t once or twice, but it was a few times. Now, I am not sure if everybody around us, didn’t notice or just ignored it, because nobody really turned around to look, including the waiters. We tried to wave down our waiter, but as soon as he caught wind of what had happened he made a b-line in the other direction, as to say, no way am I dealing with that buddy. The guy than, finally went to the restroom, and we chased down a waiter to bring some napkins, a mop, and bag. I than, went to speak with the manager to tell him what had happened, and went to the restroom to check on the fellow. He was locked in the only stall gagging away, I asked him through the door to see how he was doing and if he needed anything, and he responded that he just needed a few minutes. I asked him if he was okay to walk, or if he wanted to take a tuk-tuk, back to the hostel. No, no, I am going to be fine, just give me a few minutes, I can make it a couple hours more in time for New Years, he replied, than he continued to gag away. Speechless from his response, I returned to the table, to share the news with Rhea and Janelle. For the rest of the night, the incident was like the elephant in the corner of the room, we all thought about it, but never discussed it, at least not in front of him. To his credit, he was able to make it to midnight, and well pass it. But the punchline is, right around midnight we got separated, as Bar Street was packed with heaps of people. And at the stroke of midnight, he happened to be standing in the vicinity of Janelle, and according to her, when they were about to exchange Happy New Years wishes, he leaned in for a Kiss! Not blaming Janelle, she looked the other way and bolted. For the next couple hours, we speculated where he disappeared to, and if he finally went back to the hostel. Sometime after two am, we ended up back at the hostel, and as we returned to our respective rooms, guess who comes strolling up the steps, our buddy, the unnamed fellow. We talked a bit in the stairwell, and I told him that I was wondering where he disappeared off to, he responded that Janelle wasn’t feeling his vibe, so he decided to wander off. The funny thing is, that I didn’t tell this story to anyone, while he was still staying at the hostel, but I didn’t really want to hang with him either, as he was a bit on the strange side. But every night, as I headed out with my friends, there he was, tagging right along. One night, Tara, Liza, Stephan, and I were planning to go out for a nice dinner, and last minute he ended up joining us. The next day, Liza mentioned that he was a strange fellow, and that I seemed a bit cold to him. That’s when everybody else joined in and said that he seemed weird, and noticed the fact that no one actually remembered his name, even though he definitely gave it to us. At that point, I finally shared with Liza and Tara the story about New Years Eve. They cracked up and finally understood why I didn’t talk or hang out with him during our multiple dinners. Thats when Tara admitted that she was the one responsible for repeatingly inviting him to the dinners, as she felt bad that no one really hungout with him, and admitted that she thought that he was a bit strange, too. The classic, was when she told us, that he had shared his story about the events of New Years Eve. According to him, he went out with us that night, but ended up getting separated from us, and met up with a new group of people that he hungout with the rest of the night, and how he had a blast, but he skipped over the the whole vomiting portion of the night. Not expecting him to publicize that, but wouldn’t expect him to embellish that much as well.

I was not originally going to include this story in the blog, but according to Liza this is one of the funniest stories she has ever heard, and she proceeded to tell everyone in the hostel to ask me about the fellow on New Years Eve. When the story finally got to the hotel manager, she cracked up, as she thought that he was really creepy and weird, but she was the only one, who actually knew his name.

When talking about the Seven Wonders of the World, most people can name off four or five, fairly quickly, whether they have visited it or not. However, one usually ranks high on the list for those that have visited it, but is missing from the list, of those that know little about this wonder located in Cambodia. This may help explain, inexcusably, how Angkor Wat was left of the list of the New 7 Wonders of the World, as voted on a particular website. Many people, including myself, are only familiar with “The” Angkor Wat, the largest religious building/structure in the world, or scenes from Tomb Raiders. But, in fact the term of Angkor really refers to the area/region of Cambodia, that covered in excess of 400 square kilometers, and in it´s heyday, over 1000 temples. In direct vicinity of modern day Siem Reap, stands the marvel that is Angkor Wat and the main large temples left from the Khmer Empire. The temples were built as far back as the 8th century, to as recent as the 15th century, with the construction of Angkor Wat taking place during King Suryavarman II´s rule during the 12th century.

When visiting Angkor, you have the option of purchasing a 1-day, 3-day or 7-day pass, at a price of $20, $40, or $60 USD, respectively. Tom had a flight to catch in three days so he opted for the 3-day variety, I elected to go with the 7-day option, so that I could take a day off or two, after his departure and still go back to see anything that we may have missed.

The first day, we arrived to Siem Reap early am, via a flight from Ventiane. The Siem Reap airport was very modern and new, even with plasma screens showing college basketball games while we waited to pass through immigration. The visa was easily attainable for $20 USD, along with a passport photo. After we passed through, officially into Cambodia, we went in search of ATMs, thats when we discovered that although their national currency is the riel, what you get out of the ATM machines are US dollars. Although the exchange rate is approximately $1 USD to 3900 riels, the local merchants peg the exchange rate consistently at $1 USD to 4000 riels, so each 1000 riel note is worth a quarter. At first we were puzzled, and went from ATM to ATM, in search of one that spit out riels, but after we stopped off at a market and cafe, we quickly realized that the US dollar(s) were essentially the national currency, even accepted and possibly prefered at the government offices.

After, we found and checked into a guesthouse, we grabbed a quick bite, and headed off to see a Wonder of the World. Angkor Wat, is simply: massive. From the outside moat, to the runway/concourse that takes you through the courtyards to the steps of the Temple/Wat, to the building, itself. Built as a temple, in honour of Vishnu (Hindu God, of preserving the universe), the Wat, according to scholars, signifies the world or Mount Meru where the Gods lived. From the main dome/tower in the center, to the four towers surrounding it, representing mountain peaks; than the walls of the temple, representing the mountain ranges; and then the moat, representing the ocean. There are literally volumes of books, that are the size of encyclopedias, that define/explain the significance and symbolism of the carvings and features that make up Angkor Wat. What I found most interesting, was it´s intricate precision, when it came to it´s orientation to the quadrants (north, south, east, west) and it´s symmetry. This was not just the case at Angkor Wat, but was fairly common/uniform at all the temples/wats from the Khmer Angkorian period.

As, I may have mentioned before, one thing that I wish Asian countries did more, and follow in the foot steps of Egypt and many European countries is to document, publish, and publicize the achievements of their ancestors. When you are visiting those other landmarks/monuments, you are literally inundated with information, from facts to folklore about the monument, it´s history and significance, to the point that it almost sounds like propaganda. But in many Asian countries, it often has just a few words, detailing the date of it´s construction and a few other facts. Personally, I enjoy more the stories behind the stories, similar to those that I have shared with you in the past, as you can get the factoids from one of the many books being peddled by the street merchants, or on the internet.

Our first stop was, obviously Angkor Wat, where I spent a couple hours marveling at the details of the carvings, and the sheer size of the grounds, and temple, itself. An ironic story, is: during the 1980s, a team from India took on the task of preserving the cravings, by applying a coating to the face of the walls. Turns out, that the resin or polymer based coating, locked/trapped in the moisture from behind and inside the wall, such that it further damaged/deteriorated the face of the walls, with the carvings. Now a group, from Germany has taken on the task of, un-doing what the group from India has done. Throughout the Angkor grounds, teams from all around the world, has accepted the mission, and adopted a temple, in which they are preserving, or retrofitting the Wats from further damage, countries include: Germany, France, Canada, Japan, China… at least those were the ones I noticed, I am sure there are many more. I didn´t notice any adopted by the US, but I am happy to report, that there are many water and reclamation projects throughout the area that are supported by the States.

At some point during our walk through the grounds of Angkor Wat, Tom and I got separated, and there is really no use trying to find each other, as it´s huge. So, I took off for the +2 km walk to the walls of Angkor Thom and it´s epicenter of Bayon. Angkor Thom is a walled area, that includes many of the most marvelous, intricate, and storied temples/wat, minus Angkor Wat of course. If Angkor Thom was the current Lakers team, than Bayon would be Kobe Bryant. Bayon, built under the rule of King Jayavaram VII, during the 12th and 13th century, is a temple which includes 54 towers. Each tower has four sides, and each side includes a face of the King with slightly varying facial expressions. Each face stands around 2 meters tall, and stares out in all directions at you with a smirk, as to say that he knows something that you don´t. There is wide speculation as to the significance/meaning of the faces of the King, and the exact number of: 216. The one, I liked the most, is: the King´s kingdom, possibly included 216 regions/provinces/townships, and each face symbolises that he is watching over, each and everyone of them. If you couldn´t tell, Bayon, was one of my favorite wats, of all the Angkor wats.

As dusk was quickly approaching, I walked out south beyond the gates of Angkor Thom, and up the hill of Phnom Bakheng, along with the other thousand lemmings. What is it with sunsets, and sunrises, when you are traveling? It, happens everyday, but when you are on holiday, it suddenly becomes one of those things that you can´t miss. But, when you are living everyday life, sunrise is a bummer, because it means that it is time to get up and go to work, and the sunset, means the day is done, and it´s time to get ready for bed. I can´t even count how many times, I have now gotten up in the darkness and hiked in excess of an hour to see that glorious sunrise, only to find it blocked by a sky of clouds. Or, dropped what I was doing, to race to a significant landmark, to see the sun fall below the horizon, but disappointed by the sea of haziness. Despite all the joking gripping, it wasn´t the first and certainly won´t be the last sunset or sunrise that I would share with my fellow lemmings.

The next day, Tom and I hired a tuk-tuk driver to drive us around the Angkor compound for the day, as the temples we wanted to see, covered a loop of approximately 21 kms. We saw: Ta Phrom, most noted as the location which a portion of Tomb Raider was filmed, with it´s signature trees; Ta Keo, an unfinished pyramid type wat; Thommanom, an unrequested stop by the driver, as it was really a small temple, with a large number of souviner and refreshment stalls; the temples/wat at Angkor Thom, Bayon (again), Baphoun (a puzzle of a wat, that is being pieced backed together by the French, will be amazing if they can get the pieces to fit), Terrace of the Elephants, Terrace of the Leper King; Preah Khan, a monastery; Neak Pean, a series of water reservoirs that serviced the monastery; Ta Som, a small wat that includes the eastern gate, being engulfed by a massive tree; and of course the day concluded with a sunset at the wat of Pre Rup.

The next day, we hired our same tuk-tuk driver to pick us up at 9 am, and journey 50 kms away to visit the area of Kbal Spean, which includes carvings along the stream banks hidden in the woodlands, and the marvel of Banteay Srey. The later, was magnificent, the details, simply amazing. It really made you wonder, if some of the other temples/wats were that intricate if it hadn´t been taken over by the vegetation of the forest. It is said, that this temple was more detailed, and intricate, with it´s 3-dimensional carvings, as it was completed by women, who was able to carve/dig deeper into the stone with their smaller, hands and fingers. If you make it out to Angkor/Siem Reap, take the time to visit this small but beautiful wat, even if you are Wat´d out, like we were. The trip conluded with an unrequested stop at another wat, and the famous land mine museum.

Tom, left to catch his flight to Taiwan, and eventually home, after our day of sight seeing. It was great to have a travel mate, for those ten days, as it meant that decisions could be split between two people, and he introduced me to some sights that I may not have previously been interested in seeing, and vice-versa. All in all, I think we got along fine, but there were also those few times, that I think we got on each other´s nerve, but to be honest that probably doesn´t differ much from our time, hanging out at home, after all, I am that intense Southern Californian But, seriously, it was great to see a familiar face, and to have a bud from home, plus: Tom even took a couple of things home for me: Thanks angkor Tom.