Picture Time!

Here is a link to my photo albums- http://s360.photobucket.com/albums/oo50/pfbarker/

You'll have to copy and paste the link, because I still can't get hotlinks to work.

There's a lot of them! I'll still be arranging them in a video montage but until then you can sift through the mounds on that website. Tomorrow I will be answering all your questions so be sure to check back then.

A Clean Cut

So the decision I made to go to a barber in a Cairo back alley was only marginally better than my decision to cut my own hair before I left. I tried explaining in Arabic how I wanted him to cut my hair but he must have not understood. It's a little shorter than I would have liked but much better than the debacle that was my self-administered haircut.

Actually the whole experience turned out to be pretty cool. I got a haircut, nose-hair trim, forehead shave (seriously), shave, aftershave, shampoo (with a slight head massage) and a powder for $8. I was pretty happy.

That's pretty much it for this update. I'm heading out tonight back to Amman for the evening and then tomorrow morning to Frankfurt (Germany, not Kentucky) and then onto Chicago were Jess will pick me up at the airport. So I suppose this will be my last post from abroad. Let me get settled back in at home and I'll answer all your questions and post links to my pictures from the trip. I'm even going to make a couple slideshows set to some music and I'll post the links to those, too. I'm actually even contemplating keeping this blog as an update to my life, but I my life isn't nearly as exciting as these past 45 days have been for me. I guess we'll sort all that out soon. Until next time...

I Bit It

Well I've been through the desert on a horse that actually had a name. Abu Khalid I believe.

Today I spent my morning touring the Pyramids and the Sphinx. Literally the last major sight/site on my trip. Of course there's a reason that these are lauded as one of the most magnificent places in the world. Pictures don't really do these things justice. Nor do they give you the full scope of the area. These are literally on the edge of Cairo (well, Giza, but you get the picture). In pictures it looks like there is nothing but miles of desert around, but if you do a 180, you're just a few steps away from banks, hospitals and restaurants. The city has literally grown right to the edge but it stopped by the barbwire fences that surround the grounds of the Pyramids.

I hired a horse and guide for 2 hours for about $45. I thought it was kind of steep, but it turned out to be alright. I got a horse riding lesson, also. You would think being from Kentucky I would have a general idea of how to ride a horse but I really don't. I mean, I have a vague concept- pull left when you want to go left, right when you want to go right. The difficult part, I discovered, is when the horse picks up the pace over a walk. I had a hard time synchronizing my body to the trot of the horse so I was bouncing up and down a lot. I'm just glad there was no roof. My guide swore that when the horse picked up the pace to a gallop it was smooth sailing. We took off. I was all over the place and having a hard time holding on. I started tilting a little bit to the right. A little bit more. More. More. I faintly hear the guide say "khara!" which is the Arabic equivalent of "shit" as I plunge face first into the sand. My shoulder landed first, then my head smacked the hot sand. The guide rushed over to see if I was ok. I slowly got up and brushed myself off. For the first time in my life I understood the phrase "When you fall off the horse...". It's not easy, you know? Your confidence is shaken. My guide's confidence in me was also shaken and he didn't let go of my reigns the rest of the time. When he took me to the base of one of the Pyramids he made me reassure him that I wasn't going to fall off when I climbed a few levels up. Of course I'm not going to fall. Well, not unless the pyramid picks up and starts galloping across the desert. My shoulder still is sore.

He also made me pose for all sorts of silly poses. You know one of those pictures where it looks like you're holding the pyramid by the tip? Yeah. He also made me jump and took a couple pictures that way. I also stood on the horse. Actually in the end I was pretty pleased with the pictures. He's obviously done this type of thing before.

So the sightseeing portion of my trip is over. I will head back home Sunday morning. I'll see if I can't blog again before I get back to the States.

Until then...

Museum? Snoozeum!

To be completely honest, Egypt doesn't really tickle my fancy (and please forget the fact I just used the phrase "tickle my fancy"). First, they speak a different Arabic here that causes taxi drivers to cock their heads in confusion over what I say and really lessens the albeit small amount I understood in Syria and Jordan. Cairo also doesn't seem to have much of a character to it. It's just a big city. I liked Damascus much more.

So yesterday I side aside a chunk of my day to tour around the Egyptian Antiquities Museum. Everything I read leading up to this trip said it was a must-see stop in Cairo. The museum has over 250,000 pieces of history on display from the very small to the very very large. The sheer number of artifacts was impressive. It was very cool to be walking through thousands of years of history. But I unfortunately didn't enjoy my time spent there. Let me tell you why.

1. Admission is $10. Can't you get into the Louvre for less than that? I mean, you kind of have to pay it because you have to see the museum, but isn't that a little excessive?

2. There's nothing to explain the process of obtaining a guide. I was approached by a couple of men asking if I needed a guide. Of course, if you're approached by a "guide" in any other country you run as fast as you can. These guys aren't legit and are just scamming. Were these guys at the museum legit? I don't know. No one told me. I did ask one guide how much he charged and it was the equivalent of $20 an hour. Considering most spend 2 hours browsing, no thanks. Not for me.

3. If you don't elect to hire a guide, you're on your own. No brochures, no maps, no direction. There is one map in the entrance but you sort of have to walk away from it to see anything in the museum, so it's not much help.

4. Only about 15% of items in the museum are labeled in any way. If they are labeled, it's in Arabic and English and the English is pretty suspect.

5. It's hot in the museum. No A/C. Everyone is walking around fanning themselves with beads of sweat all over. Not only hot, but dusty and dirty.

6. Not that I minded that much, but all the artifacts are just laying around and anyone can touch them. Of course, there are big signs posted everywhere that say "Don't Touch" but what do you think that makes people want to do? Touch, of course. And when it's so accessible, why not? I could have sat in a sarcophagus if I wanted. The huge museum only has a handful of guards and hundreds of people. There's not much they can do.

7. A popular attraction in the museum is the Mummy Room. Where they keep, well, the mummies. I had read in a book beforehand that there is an extra admission fee to the Mummy Room of 20 Egyptian pounds or about $4. Imagine my shock when I get there and see that the actual admission fee is not 20, but 100 pounds or $20. What?! I know some of you (including my mother) would say "Aw, you should have just paid it. Mummies!" But when you read the Arabic and realize they only charge Egyptians $2 to get in, you have to take a stand on principle and refuse. I mean, what sense does it make to charge twice the price of admission to the general museum for one room in the museum? I guess people pay it, though. Just not this guy.

Can you imagine how expensive a trip to the museum could be for a family of four? That would be $40 for entrance fees. About $40 for a guide for two hours, and $80 for entrances to the Mummy Room. $160? Does that not seem like too much to you? Now, I realize these are artifacts that you can't see just anywhere. And, in their defense they are truly beautiful pieces of work and must be viewed. I just think it's a sham with the prices they charge.

Ok, I'm done ranting. I actually had a great evening last night thanks to some cool CSers in Cairo. We all met up for dinner at a place called Sequoia. It was a really spectacular restaurant situated outdoors right on the Nile. We all ordered a sheesha and sat around and talked until 2 in the morning. For those of you who are curious, my new favorite sheesha flavor is lemon mint. I feel like I could get out of bed in the morning and smoke that and not need to brush my teeth. Quite refreshing. And as always, quite the eclectic group of people at the dinner. Me, two grandmothers from Georgia, a New Yorker, an Egyptian-American, an Italian and two Egyptians. We're meeting again tonight for some karaoke. I'll see if I can't get video of me singing some Amr Diab or Nancy Ajram.

Tomorrow I've hired a driver to take me to the Pyramids and Sphinx. That's what I've come for. I'm excited.

I've gotten some great questions so far from you all. I'll answer each and every one of them in a coming blog, but until them, keep sending questions!

Feedback

So my trip is winding down and I (as cheesy as this is) want to have an "all-reader edition" of my blog. So I'll take your questions and answer them. Want to know the 5 best parts of the trip? Ask! Anything you want to know just email me, facebook me, post it in the comment section or by any other means you know. I'll then compile the questions and answers and make it my final blog along with my parting thoughts. This is your homework assignment. Get on it!

I Can't Think of a Clever Title

Damascus was top notch. I really really liked the city. It's such a wild mix of people that it makes for intriguing people watching at all times of the day. I was surprised to find out that a little over 10% of the Syrian population is Christian. I would have though the number was much lower, but I would have been wrong. There is a strong Christian community in Damascus stemming from Biblical times. I actually went to the house of Annanias (whom you might remember from your Sunday School class) where Paul stayed for a few days. I forgot how much rich Biblical history resides in Syria.

During the evenings I met with a Syrian named Soubhi. He is fresh out of medical school but didn't ask that I call him Doctor. He was a real down to earth guy who spent some time in the states in Houston working in a hospital. He also holds a slight grudge against UofL because they denied him a position working at their school. I immediately liked him.

We spent the majority of our time just walking the streets of Damascus and talking about life. He is a really well informed guy and made a great tour guide. He told me lots of stuff that I didn't know like how to tell the difference between a Sunni woman and a Shia'a woman by the way they tie their hijab (Shia'a covers the chin). We also talked about Hizballah, Bush and Syrian-US relations. I did notice, however, that when we started talking about these topics, his voice got a little lower and he looked around a lot to make sure no one was listening. I then touted the greatness of America because people literally stand on street corners and speak out against the government because it's their right. I told him the story of the Dixie Chicks and how they fell out of favor with the country music community a few years back.

Last night we met again and went on top (or as close as we could get to the top) of Jebal Kassir, which is a large mountain that overlooks the city. Everyone I spoke to said that this was a must-see in Damascus and they were right. It was a cool, breezy evening on top of that mountain and the view couldn't have been better. Aside from the few fellows who were offering us prostitutes, it was a pretty serene setting. Around 8:45 the final call to prayer for the evening began ringing out from each of the many many mosques that dot the city. Soubhi told me that a couple years back there was a movement to organize one call to prayer so it would be in unison. It was overwhelmingly defeated and it remains that everyone starts on their own clock, which are never ever the same. So from the top of this mountain the call to prayer starts and I tell Soubhi it sounds like a haunted choir. One voice sounds nice, a mix of voices at all different points of the prayer sounds like a battlefield of wounded men moaning. I'm not sure my "haunted choir" label was really understood by Soubhi. He gave me a sympathy laugh. Or maybe I'm just not that funny. That's a possibility also.

So this morning I checked out of my cell at the monestary and through several means of transportation have arrived safely in Cairo. This, of course, was not without its obstacles. More ATMs that didn't work, annoying children sitting in front of me on the airplane that decided to smack me in the head while mamma lit up a cig (I swear to you- this happened. What was the last year you were allowed to smoke on an airplane?? 1985? How can you not know that's not kosher? You should have seen everyone's faces when they first got the whiff of that cigarette. It was a priceless moment.), taxi drivers arguing over cartons of cigarettes (do cigarettes make the world go around?) and a scene straight off of Animal Planet (except involving humans) as I approach my hostel in Cairo. It's been quite the day and now I'm plum tuckered.

I think my plan of attack tomorrow will be to go to the National Museum and relax a bit. I'm not ready to tackle another full day in the heat by going to the Pyramids. I'll save that for Thursday or Friday. They also do an evening light show with the Sphinx and the Pyramids, so I might check that out. There is also a CS meeting tomorrow night that I will attend. I've met a CSer in every country and every city so far, so I can't break the streak now.

That's about all I can think of for right now. It's almost 1am here and I'm not completely sure how to get back to my hostel, so I should probably start looking. I know it's around here somewhere...

A Quick Note

Sorry my blogging has been suspect here. The internet is suspect, also. It won't let me post without certain programs blah blah blah. Hopefully when I land in Egypt tonight these problems will be solved. I'll post more about how much I really liked Damascus and Syria later tonight (or afternoon for my States readers). So all I have to do now is exit Syria, cross back into Jordan, get a taxi to the airport, exit Jordan, wait for my flight, get a Egyptian visa and find my hostel. Sounds easy right? I'll let you know how it goes (along with the story behind the haunted choir of Damascus). Take care!

Pimped Out

I forgot to add that all my Facebooking and blogging (since Blogger is blocked, too) comes courtesy of www.pimpmyip.org. The Texan gave me the tip last night that this website is a way around the censors and will grant you access to any banned sites. It works!

Golden Rules

When you get lost, you get desperate. When you're lost and penniless, you get really desperate. So went my first night in Damascus. For some reason I have been having troubles with my ATM card in some countries. I had major problems in India and I encountered the same problems in Syria last night. To compound the problem, Syrians aren't huge ATM fans so they're few and far between. To compound it even more, most ATMs close when the adjoining bank closes, which is around 4pm. So I'm hungry and penniless walking the streets of Damascus looking for any place that will dispense cash. Ok, so I wasn't completely broke- the 6'8" Texan had spotted me the equiavlent of about $10 so I was getting by on that. But with money running short I was getting really worried I would have to wait until tomorrow to get some cash. I started asking people on the street, but they had no idea. I spotted a young fellow that I pegged as someone who would speak good English. I was right. He offered to drive me around until I found something, so I broke a cardinal rule of childhood and hopped into the car with a stranger. I never even actually got his name, but he dropped me off in front of a bank and drove off. I walked up, inserted my card and the machine spit it right back out. No dice.

So I started walking. I used what little money I had left to buy a shawarma and a water and continued looking for ATMs. Suffice it to say I found about 4 more, but none would give me any money. I hadn't really been paying attention to where I was going so I was completely lost. I knew I was heading in the correct general direction, but I was winding through back alleys and completely lost. I stopped several people to ask directions and all were most helpful. In fact one guy reached into the bag he was carrying and gave me a handful of weird nut looking things. They were big and red. I had never seen anything like it. Breaking cardinal rule No. 2 of not taking candy from strangers, I thanked him and walked on. After a few minutes I put one of the things in my mouth. It had a truly strange texture and I had to spit it back out. I tossed the rest respectfully along the side of the road.

I got even more lost after that. But Patrick, just get a taxi you say. Well, I would have but all were full. Not even joking. Every single taxi was full. I kept walking in the general direction and found some open cabs, but I was so close at this point none of them would take me. I finally found a guy who walked with me to my hotel. He was most kind.

After I got back, Sameer (the guy from the taxi) came and picked me up and we (along with his girlfriend and the Texan) went out to dinner for her brithday. It was actually a very enjoyable evening and we shared a hookah and had some good food. It is very nice when you're a solo travler to have someone who will take you under their wing and take care of you. After dinner (which oddly started about 11pm) Sameer took me to an ATM that he knew would work, and it did. I am now flush with cash and ready to take on the city.

So all in all not the most interesting story to tell (or listen to for that matter) but it definitely made for an interesting evening. My first impressions of Damascus are positive ones. All the bad things you hear about the country are, as usual, totally wrong. I've found the people here to be truly nice and welcoming to Americans. Everyone I've talked to aspires to go to America one day. Now Damascus is quite different from Amman. Amman is a very Westernized city. Roads are in good shape, everything is labeled in English and Arabic. McDonalds, Burger King, KFC and Applebee's dot the landscape. Huge malls and grocery stores are everywhere. Damascus is quite the opposite. Little English on the streets. No American fast food chains. The only traffic law is to wear a seatbelt. So for a first time visitor to the Middle East, I would recommend getting your feet wet in Amman and then, when you're ready, hop over to Syria. Here you will get the true scope of the region.

Alright, enough rambling. I am going to do a little sightseeing before I meet with a CSer tonight for dinner. I'll keep you up to speed. Take care.

Facebook

Just a short post about Facebooking here in Syria. Apparently the government has blocked access to the website. I tried to log on and got an error message. I lamented out loud to the guy on duty in Arabic that there was no Facebook. That led to a small exchange that went like this (in Arabic, of course)-

Me: "What? No facebook here?"
Guy: "No, I'm sorry. No facebook."
Me: "That sucks" (I actually said this in English)
Guy: "Where are you from?" (back to Arabic)
Me: "The USA."
Guy: Has look of hesitation. "Just one minute"
Me: "Um, ok."

He goes and retreives a small flash drive and sticks it in my computer. Clicks a few icons and voila! Facebook. Apparently I passed the sniff test.

I Mean, Syria-ously

So much to catch you all up on. Sorry about no posting yesterday as internet in Jordan is a little tricky and moreover I was busy all day. Here's how yesterday and today have played out...

So I wake up, get ready and go to the local Safeway to meet two CSers for a day trip to Petra. One Jordanian male and a Polish female. We made quite the team. The girl arrives first so we're just waiting on the guy who will be driving us the 3 hours south to the ancient city. So we wait and wait. Then we see him coming. He pulls up in his small blue hatchback and unfolds himself from the car. He's bigger than me in both aspects- taller and thicker. How he fits himself into the car I'm still not sure. We get in and the trip begins. You know all great trips begin with the words "Hey, cross those wires in the floor so we can have music."

Actually, the trip to Petra wasn't that bad at all. The conversation was pretty good and both he and the Pole were very nice people. It was a fairly uneventful trip aside from the speeding ticket he got while doing 110kmh in a 80. His car GPS clocked his highest speed at 137kmh, what the equates to in miles, I do not know. But it was pretty fast.

We arrive at Petra and I shocked to find out that the price of admission has gone up. When I was there in 2004, it was around 15JD (about $22US). That's expensive, but I suppose that since Petra is now one of the new 7 wonders of the world, they felt that substantiated a rise in price to 21JD (about $31). Of course, this isn't unprecedented. I paid almost $20 to get into the Taj Mahal and $20 to get into Angkor Wat. Of course, locals pay only 1JD, 40 rupees and $1USD respectively to get into those places. Could you imagine the outrage if foreigners were charged $20 to go to the Statue of Liberty and Americans were only charged $1? Ah well. What can I do?

Again, a fairly uneventful trip once in Petra. I had taken the proper precautions beforehand- drank lots of water, wore sunscreen and tried to stay out of the sun as much as possible. But, like last time, I got really worn down by the sun and got a little nasious by the end of the day. I was ready to go home. But my Jordanian friend had other ideas. He suggested that we travel a little further south to Aqaba so we could do some duty free shopping (read: he needed some smokes). I voiced my objections. I'm tired, hungry and want to go home. He insisted that it wasn't that far away and that we would be home at 9pm at the absolute latest. He hadn't been wrong about distances and directions thus far, so I trusted him. Almost two hours later at 730pm we arrive in Aqaba. Aqaba, for those who don't know, is a really neat place. It is at the southern tip of Jordan situated on the Red Sea. It's a really beautiful place and from there you can see 4 nations. Jordan, Israel, Egypt and Saudi Arabia are all within sight. We literally spent 15 minutes in the town, he picked himself up a bottle of Vodka and we were back on the road by 8pm.

We took the Dead Sea road back to Amman. Of course Nabil (the Jordanian) promised it would only take 2 1/2 hours tops. I again took him at his word. Of course by this point all hope of 9pm was out the window and I was hoping before 11. It quickly became obvious when we saw the first roadsign that said Amman 310km that 11 was looking more like 12. All in all, it was a fairly quiet ride back home. All of us were tired and the heat of the desert caused us all to be a little uncomfortable (did you really think he had A/C?). I had one of those surreal moments in my life though as we were cruising through the Jordanian desert and finally come across the Dead Sea, illuminated by moonlight. The smell of salt was thick in the air and I just looked around me with a Pole in the backseat sleeping and a Arab in the driver's seat bobbing his head to Lil Wayne on the stereo. As I looked across the Sea and looked upon Israeli settlements in the West Bank it was almost too strange to be my real life.

We finally pulled back into Amman around 1130. Nabil swore that all the roadsigns were wrong even up to the moment I got out of the car. I really hated to tell him that he just misjudged it all. Oh well, he'll know better next time. It was a great day though. Despite the long hours in the car I really liked both the people I was with and enjoyed their company. Chalk another victory up for CS.

Today on the way to Syria I made some friends the old fashioned way- chance encounters. I got up early and had breakfast with Andrea and then went to her school for a little while to use the internet and try to figure out where I can stay in Syria. Due to the fact the details of my trip from this point on are, how should I say, fluid, I din't plan for any acommodation. I found a place and called from the school. All booked. Andrea talked to some of the other teachers at the school and all of a sudden it became "Let's Find a Place for Patrick" as I sat and stared blankly at a wall while the Arab secretary was busy on the phone calling around Damascus trying to find a place for me to rest my head for the night. I felt pretty helpless and kind of embarrassed. Maybe incapable is the right word. She finally found a place for me at the Deir Mar Paulus and sent me on my merry way.

I caught a cab to the bus station and then found a "sevees" which I booked to take me to Damascus. A servees is a funny thing. It's more of a shared taxi. Basically you wait around until you get 4 people wanting to go to Syria, you all pile in and you're on your way. To call it cramped would be an understatement. Of course with my luck there was a girl in the car which automatically meant she got the front seat. Being scrunched in the back between two guys is definitely against custom here and thusly she had all the legroom in the world while myself, a 6'8" Texan and the Syrian Nick Pendley crammed ourselves in the back. I got the hump. It was a really uncomfortable ride the one hour to the border and one hour to Damascus. I'm pretty sure all my lower extremities fell asleep at one point and sweat poured. I envied the princess sitting in the front seat gabbing on her cell phone. She didn't know how good she had it. The only saving grace of the trip was that I really got along well with the two guy in the backseat. We had a lot of good conversation and they were both eager to help me since it was my first time in the country and the city. The Texan even offered his place for me to sleep tonight but I delined because of my prior booking. The Syrian Nick Pendley invited us to his girlfriend's birthday party tonight so I think I'm going to go. He even offered to pick me up. After we arrived in Damascus he bargained a cab for me, we scheduled a time to meet and then parted.

The cab ride was fairly short to the hotel. I hesitate to call it a hotel though because it's really not. In fact, it's a monastery. Apparently Deir Mar Paulus means St. Paul Monastery so yours truly will be shacking in a convent for the night. A nice nun met me at the entrance and showed me to my room. Nothing fancy at all, but complete with an Arabic New Testament and a picture of the Virgin Mary on the wall. Should be pretty interesting.

So that long piece of writing catches you up on my life right now. Fairly entertaining even to me. I'll be sure to let you know how the rest goes. Until next time...

Jordan (not Michael)

I've arrived in Jordan. Don't have a whole lot of time to blog right now, but just thought I would update my whereabouts.

Despite arriving at 3:30am, my friend Andrea met me at the airport to give me a lift to Amman. I met Andrea while studying Arabic in Jordan in 2004. She now teaches at an American school here and has lived in Jordan for 2 years. The purpose of my visit, to be honest, is really just to see her. Amman isn't a booming tourist hub and while there is tons to see our in the country, the city itself really lacking.

Since gender rules are a little more complicated in Jordan than say in Japan, I couldn't stay at Andrea's place and instead ended up sleeping in one of the most interesting places yet. Andrea has arranged for me to stay with a family here, but seeing as how my flight arrived at such an ungodly hour, I slept in the hallway of Andrea's school. It worked out quite nicely, actually. I had a nice foam mat and a pillow. I slept extremely well.

When I finally rolled out of bed this morning we went on a little excursion to find some hummus and bread- two staples of the Jordanian diet and a favorite of yours truly. I quickly became re-oriented with the city even though it has changed a lot in the last four years. For starters, they now have Starbucks, which they didn't back then. Amman is a very very westernized city- probably the reason I like it so much. I immediately felt more confident here and more at home. I'm sure a lot of that has to do with the fact I've been here before and know a little of the language and have friends already, but something intangible really puts me at peace about this place. Also the fact that there is little humidity does wonders for your mental state.

Not much of a plan here. Just see and hang out with Andrea for a little while and then move on to Syria. Tomorrow, though, I will go with a couple CSers to Petra in the southern part of Jordan. It's about a 3 hour car ride away from town. I went to Petra back in 2004 but I feel that it is a place you cannot just see once. It is truly magnificent and very worthy of the honor of being one of the New 7 Wonders of the World.

So that about sums it up. I'll check back in later. Take care.

The Colonel Spoke to Me

You know, the cool thing abut being from Kentucky is that everyone has heard of it. Granted, just because of KFC, but that's a stepping stone into a deeper conversation. Every country I've ever been in has had a KFC (save Andorra and the Vatican). It is truly a worldwide phenomenon.

I had to go to the post office this afternoon to mail a package (which is a totally different blog entry itself) and noticed a KFC next door. I decided to give KFC New Delhi a whirl. Before you all start groaning please note that I've eaten SO much Indian food I've grown a little weary of it. And I wasn't really feeling a Chinese buffet. So anyway I placed my order for a King Kong box and took my seat. As I sit, scarfing down a delectible chicken leg and rubbing arms with more turbans and sarees- it dawns on me. KFC truly is global. I like global things. I like global jobs. I like KFC. I'm from Kentucky. See where I'm going with this? So I don't know if KFC has a "overseas operations supervisor" position but I might really be interested in something like that. Travel, meet people, learn culture, tailor KFC to meet cultures and represent my state and my country.

So, if anyone from my Louisville readership area has any connections over at Yum!, pass my blog along. If they're interested in a young, cultured, fiercely proud Kentuckian (I was humming My Old Kentucky Home at the Taj yesterday- don't ask why. I don't know) to promote their good fried chicken abroad, we can talk.

I'm only half-way kidding. :)

I've Got to Get Out of Here

Luckily, my time in India is winding down. Let me first say, before I go on tangents, that, in general, India is a nice country. I've met some truly wonderful people here and I enjoyed their company very much. I just don't know if I'll ever want to put myself through this again.

India is so exhausting. Never mind the unbearable heat and humidity (I know- my fault for planning a trip in August), it's just the daily grind of life here that makes the country somewhat intolerable. I can't go anywhere without being harassed to buy something and I truly cannot trust anyone I meet in the street. Asking something as simple as "where can I find a tea shop?" and you get a response like "Oh no, all tea shops in the city are closed because (insert ridiculous excuse). Let me take you to buy silk pajamas. Very nice price."

On Sunday I wanted to go to the Gandhi Museum to see where he spent his last months and to see the spot where he was killed. I found a young-ish rickshaw driver and asked him to take me there. "Oh no," he said. "It's closed today." I asked why, knowing good and well that it was open. "Because it's Sunday of course. But I will take you to the India Gate. Come, get in." I rolled my eyes, walked away and found a driver that would take me there. Seriously, why does it have to be so difficult? Why couldn't he just take me there? He lost money because he lied to me. Where is the economic sense in that?

You see, in this country (at least from my experience-India apologists feel free to disagree), as a foreigner, your guard must be up 24/7. People are trying to get you to part with your money on every corner. Remember the other day when I asked the driver for an ATM and he took me on a ride? I found an ATM the next day only 100 yards from my place. It just gets so tiring trying to separate out all the BS.

I think the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back was yesterday when I went to the Taj Mahal in Agra. Even once you pay the money to get inside you are constantly bombarded with "guides" looking to show you around. You can't step 50 feet without being bothered. One guy followed us (I met two Colombians and an Italian I traveled with for the day) almost 200 yards, being most helpful in directing us where to get the tickets and the admission process. Of course, he also wanted to sell us a "tour" of the place. We declined. It just continued all day long. Our hired driver wanted to show up "Emporiums" where we could get souvenirs for cheap. Outside every place there are women with naked babies touching their lips and saying "Chapathi" which is a bread and then motioning for us to give them money. There are many many more instances of this during the day, I just don't have time (nor do you really want to read) to recollect them all. It just became so exhausting and irritating that I just wanted to get back to my hotel room and read a book.

Please know that I understand the disparity between these folks and myself. I realize that they're just trying to get by in life in whatever way they can. It must be a horrible life not knowing where your next meal will come from. If anything it's a sobering reminder of just how good I have life back in the States. Even the poorer folks in the States have it better than this portion of the Indian population. I feel truly bad for their condition but question how much I am really helping.

I really debate on giving money to the homeless. In the States I sometimes (as most do) hold back because we believe they will all just go buy more liquor or drugs with it. India is different. No doubt these people are starving and really just want to eat. (I forgot to tell this story earlier, but in Cambodia I actually had a kid come up and steal food off my plate as I sat at a street cafe.) But what kind of culture does it create? These people then become dependent on handouts for life and never really become productive members of society.

I don't have answers. I just know that all the incessant begging and touts trying to dupe me have left a bad taste in my mouth. India, as wonderful and exotic of a country as it is, is extremely difficult for traveling. It is difficult to know who to trust and who not to trust. I've been a lot of places and seen a lot of things, but India is in a class all it's own. Here to hoping I haven't pulled all my hair out by the time I land in Jordan tomorrow night.

Kallu Nai

So today started out with meeting a CSer for breakfast. Madhavi was supposed to host me during my stay in Delhi but some unforeseen circumstances arose and she wasn't able to but she still agreed to meet me for a meal. Madhavi is one of the most fun people I've met while I've been on this trip. She is hilarious and has viewpoints quite different than the "good Indian girl". She's just a little more liberal than most. Sure, she still wears the saree, but you can also find her hanging out her window screaming at the rickshaw drivers when they won't get out of her way. She provided me with several laughs during our time together. I think her general funniness is amplified by her very Indian accent. I think the term we would use in the States for a girl like her is a "firecracker." Designers of the Patterson School summer reading list will also be happy to know that Madhavi gives her ringing endorsement of the book "In Spite of the Gods".

Before we parted I asked her about theatre performances in Delhi. I was interested in seeing a show. I didn't' care what show, just something "Indian". She told me she'd look into it and give me a call. True to her word, she called me about an hour later and told me about a show called Kallu Nai. She explained that the only drawback was that it was in Hindi. I told her it didn't really matter and that it might even be better that way. I thanked her and got ready to go.

Of course my rickshaw driver got lost. We're cruising up and down the road with no idea where the place is. When we finally find it, it's about 2 minutes to show and I rush up to the ticket counter and request one ticket.

"Sir, you realize this show is in Hindi?"
"Um, yeah. One ticket please."
"No English."
"Ok. Yeah. Sure. One ticket."
"No refund. Please fill out this card."

He shuffles me over to this other desk where I put my name and email address down and throw it in a bowl. I run to the bathroom real quick and wash my hands and then return to the theatre and find my seat.

I would consider it an authentic experience. Here I was, surrounded by sarees, turbans and leather sandals with my little white face sticking out like a sore thumb. The fact I was wearing deodorant also drew attention to me, I think. I started drawing up a game plan. I want to fit in, so I decided just to laugh when everyone else did. That worked fairly well, only it was like a 2 second delay. I would look out of the corner of my eye and see if people were smiling and I would smile too. I had no idea what was going on on that stage. Best I could tell it was about an Indian Popeye with a Hitler mustache who moonlights as a Doctor. Whether he was a real doctor or not, I'm still not for sure. The show was really not too bad. I could have done without the strange Indian House music during the interludes and the shoddy choreography but that's nitpicking.

The show ends and the cast comes onto the stage, takes a bow, everyone claps. Yadda yadda yadda. Then, the director comes onto stage and takes a mic. I cant' understand a word he's saying so I just take my cues from everyone else. He calls a little girl from the audience and she comes up on stage. Then, from stage left comes a familiar bowl filled with paper. Uh oh. Door prizes. (As a side note, who ever heard of door prizes at a play?) I slouched in my chair a little. Please please please don't call me. The little girl pulls a name out. Completely Indian name. I'm safe. Whew. Let's go home. The woman walks up to the stage to accept her prize. The director implores the girl to pull another name. She does and hands it to him. He looks at the paper, cocks his head, shows it to the guy standing next to him. "Pah-treek Bahr-keer". I can feel the eyes all looking at me. Everyone knew I was the Patrick Barker. I looked around and stood up, walked up on the stage as the director babbled in Hindi. I took my prize, gave a completely awkward bow and walked off the stage. I could see the folks in the crowd concealing smirks. Oh well, they can laugh. I've got a fantastically awesome air freshener and they don't!

Afterwards I needed a dose of home. I should have known better. I asked a rickshaw driver to take me to the McDonald's close to my hotel. I walked in with dreams of a couple cheeseburgers, fries and I coke. But, as Meatloaf says, two out of three ain't bad. I should have known that there would be no beef in that place. Not with all of it walking around out on the streets getting in the way of traffic. I had to settle for a McAloo Tiki, which was a weird potato patty stuffed with peas and covered in a creamy sauce. It actually wasn't so bad. I may have another one tomorrow.

So that was my evening. I'm going to change clothes and turn on CNN World so I can actually hear some English spoken tonight. Take care.

One Fine Evening

Just a quick one to let you all know about the truly marvelous evening I had. When I first signed up for CS, tonight is what I had in mind. Roopinder Singh and his family hosted me for dinner tonight in their home outside of Delhi. I was more nervous on my way there than I ever have been meeting the parents of a girlfriend. I mean, at least the parents have the same culture as you*. Your job as the boyfriend is just to be polite and don't say anything stupid. But tonight I was worried about cultural divides and language barriers. All fears quickly subsided as I found out what a truly welcoming family the Singhs were. Not only was Roopinder, his wife and two children there, but also his sister-in-law, her kids and mother-in-law. It was a full house.

I won't give you a play-by-play of the evening, but suffice it to say this is one of, if not the, highlight of the trip. These are experiences that can't be replicated or had everyday for that matter. I count myself as blessed for having met them.

More tomorrow...

*Actually, meeting Jess's dad and step mom was pretty nerve-wrecking since their culture is different and they're throwing Spanish at you.

A Round of Observations

Just some random thoughts.

-No matter how hard I try, I will never understand why here, and in the Middle East, men want to hold hands with each other. It's a very very foreign concept to me. I was told it just shows they are very good friends. Ok, I can understand that, but is it really necessary to hold hands in the process? I tried to imagine holding hands and walking downtown Lexington with some of my male friends but my brain wouldn't even let me. The idea must be so repulsive that my mind can't comprehend it. You NEVER see men and women holding hands here. Only men and men. I'll never get it.

-I've decided riding on a bicycle rickshaw is like that girl in high school that kept breaking your heart but you couldn't get over her. Cycle rickshaws are hot, slow and bumpy. But for some reason I'm in love with the idea of being pedaled through the streets of Delhi. Each of my journeys I've been rained on and had no canopy. Everytime I swear I'll never get on another one, but I do.

-They don't care to stare you down here. Nothing imposing, just curiousity I think. Guys will stare holes through me. Sometimes I start to feel like a New Yorker and want to yell at them "What the hell are you staring at? You want trouble? I'll give you trouble!" But I typically refrain.

-I've seen too many penises already. Guys just pee wherever suits them in broad daylight on the side of the street.

-I got my first taste of cows in the road today. True to what I had heard, traffic slowed and yielded rightaway. I was hoping that when a cow wondered onto the road it would be like in Return of the Jedi when the Ewoks first saw C3PO and started chanting and worshipping him. Unfortunately, that's not how it usually goes here.

-I'm addicted to bargaining. When I get back to the states I'll probably forget and try to bargain for jar of Ovaltine at Kroger. "$4? No, I think that's too expensive. $1.50. Good price for you!"

-I want to take pictures of every single person I see. It's ridiculous. Everyone is so unique with the clothing, beards or jewelry that I just want to snap pictures all the time. I realize I've just got a Canon point and click and I'm not on assignment from National Geographic so I refrain. Plus I don't know where I would find a SD card big enough to fit 1.6 billion pictures.

-The food is soooo good here. I'm spoiled now and will probably refuse to pay $12 for Chicken Makhani from Tandoor when I know I can get it on the street in Delhi for $1.50.

-What's the deal with the time here? Delhi is EST +9:30. Where did the extra 30 minutes come from? Why can't they be conformists?

Alright, so those are my thoughts for now. I'll get back a little later on with another round. As you can tell, this country is really an assault on the senses and a truly wonderful experience.

A Love/Hate Relationship

If my time in India started out any rockier, I would be Sly Stallone. I was just praying the whole trip wouldn't go like the first 24 hours did. And it hasn't.

It started with an email from my CS host two days before I was set to leave. She regretted to inform me that she couldn't, in fact, host me. So I was scrambling to find a place from CS with no luck. I ended up booking a hotel from an internet cafe in the Bangkok airport. Complete with taxi service from the airport which proved to be a wise decision.

So, I land, seemlessly get through immigration, pick up my bag, find the guy holding a sign with my name no it and I'm on my way. We start on the road and he asks me if I'm hungry. A little bit, I reply. But something fast, like McDonalds. It's late and I'm tired. So what does he do? He drops me off in a smoke-filled restaurant full of seedy looking men and tells me to order food and he'll wait outside. Not what I had in mind. Blame it on Southeast Asia- I'm skeptical of everyone who is even the slightest bit nice to me. Plus I had left my bags in his car and in general just didn't trust anyone. I finished as quickly as I could (paid with credit card because I didnt have ANY rupees) and got back in the car. We then proceed to stop at 3 ATMs, none of which will dispense any cash to me. Things are starting to look down for India. I didn't hit rock bottom until the next morning.

First let me say that India is a world unlike I've ever known. Being outside for 10 minutes (if you believe it) makes me long for the sanity and organization of the Middle East. (I later found out that the only reason it's such a mess around my hotel is that I'm staying in Old Delhi, which is like being thrust back into the 18th century save the incessant car horn honking. New Delhi is actually much more civilized and saner.) So my mission yesterday morning is to find an ATM. That's the only goal. I hired a cycle rickshaw, we negotiate a firm 40 rupees price (about $1US). He starts peddling. Suffice it to say I ended up nowhere near an ATM, raining pouring down, soaking wet, huddled in a weird little pod thing sitting on the ground cursing my life and this country. After I climb back onto the rickshaw I had to hop off a couple more times in protest because he was trying to charge me more to get to the ATM. When we finally arrived, the ATM wouldn't accept my card. Next ATM, same story. Delhi's monsoon rains were pouring down at this point and I was in no mood. Finally I got to an ATM that realized I actually have money in my account and pulled out that equivalent of $375US because my math sucks and I couldn't get a grip on the conversion rate.

Speaking of Rocky, you should have seen me. I was staggering down the street like a prize fighter in the 10th round. Being tired, wet and hungry are not feelings that any human desires to feel, but all were hitting me at once. I finally make it back to the hotel and, much to the amusement of the hotel staff, sopping wet. I ask "Does it rain everyday?" The bubbly clerk replied "No! Today is the first day of monsoon!" Awesome. Glad I could be a part of it.

But, thankfully, the day got better. I had a nice brunch at the hotel restaurant and ventured out to see the Red Fort, one of Delhi's main attractions. I also scheduled to meet a CSer in the evening. Around 7pm I met Mohit at the metro station. Mohit is a really cool guy. His English is near flawless and his entusiasm for his city and his country spills out in his speech. He took me to see the Presidential Palace and all the government buildings which I would compare to the Mall on Washington. He proved to be an OUTSTANDING tour guide. He knows so much history about the city and country. Much more than the average person I think. Without him, I would have been aimlessly wondering around the city saying "Oh, that's pretty". But now I know the stories behind it all. After sharing an ear of corn prepared by a street vendor, we went back to his home where his mother had prepared dinner for us. What proceeded was a wonderful night of conversation, good food and fun. CS once again saves the day!

Today I will also meet with a CS family for dinner. I will go to Roopinder Singh's home tonight where his wife and children will meet me and we will have a Punjabi dinner. I'm very excited. I've spoken with him on the phone a few times and he seems like a great guy.

To sum it up, India is outstandingly overwhelming at first. Nothing operates the way I would like it to, which may be part of the problem. India works at its own pace. I've realized I'm going to have to push and shove if I want to get anywhere. But this country is amazing. Truly a world all it's own. Alright, I need to get moving because other folks are waiting on the computer. But trust me, more is surely to come from India. Hopefully I'll avoid the monsoon today.

New Day. New Country.

I was starting to worry that in Saigon I wouldn't meet any CS members. But, true to form, the community came through and I had dinner the night before last with a group of truly cool people. As is typical, there was a nice mix at the table for dinner, an American, a Canadian, two Vietnamese and a Malaysian. I'm not sure I'm going to know what to think next time I go to have dinner with my friends and they're all of my ethnicity.

Before dinner, thuogh, I had a cup of coffee with My Than, a Vietnamese girl that has a wonderful smile. We sat and chatted about many things while waiting for other members of out party. The topic of conversation turned quickly to politics. I, as I have in every country I've traveled to thus far, had to explain American's rationale for re-electing Bush in 2004 and in general what the hell America is thinking right now. My asked me an interesting question about individuality in America. She says she doesn't understand why some people want to stand out so much from the rest. She thinks that everyone should work together for a more societal good rather than to be his or her own bright shining star. Interesting.

The next morning My and Kiet (another CSer) were gracious enough to take me to the airport. I felt like I had my own entourage of motorbikes. They got me safely there and away and my flight then left for India.

I've got enough stories about India already to fil a blog, so I'm going to start an entirely different post for that. Let's just say, for now, that India is the strangest, most difficult and fascinating country I've traveled to- and it's only Day 1.

Chasing the Sun

Just a quick note to let you all know I've arrived in India. I didn't even get to the parking lot before I broke a sweat from the humidity. Anyway, I'll update you all some more tomorrow on my last night in Vietnam, Socialist conversations, and initial thoughts on India. For now, I need to rest. Until the morn...

Indoctrinated.

You know, it's almost easy to forget that Vietnam is a Communist country. Then, you get subtle (read: propaganda) reminders. I was exposed to this today as I took a tour out of Ho Chi Minh City to the countryside to the Cu Chi Tunnels. I'm sure some of my elder (and I mean that in the nicest way possible) readers are familiar with these, but for my generation not so much. The Cu Chi tunnels are a system of tunnels in which the Viet Cong guerrillas hid during US bombing sweeps of the area during the Vietnam War. Not only for hiding, the tunnels were base camps for the NLF fighters. In layman's terms, it's a bunch of tunnels where Vietnamese lived to escape American bombings.

Remember how yesterday I said I wanted to study up a little on the Vietnam War? Well, I won't get an objective viewpoint here. All the pictures I saw today at the tunnels and also at the War Remnants Museum were all about documenting how scared, undermanned and defeated the Americans were. Want to learn about how the US got involved and why campaigns began in the country? Sorry, can't learn about that. But there is a nice exhibit on the My Lai massacre. Want to know about why North Vietnam was attacking South Vietnam? No help there, either. But please watch the video about the brave, courageous and proud Vietnamese and how they were attacked- unprovoked- by the "great white devils".

Now, I claimed to be naive in an earlier post, but I'm not really. I know that the US involvement in Vietnam is something that is in question even today. I know that many veterans still don't understand why we went there in the first place. I also am aware that acts committed by US forces during the campaign are reprehensible. But seriously, a whole day of listening to how America was scared and photos of civilian bombing victims really has my head spinning.

Well, best to move on. I'm leaving tomorrow morning for Delhi. I don't really know what to expect. I'll be sure to update frequently in India.

Bits and Pieces

-I underestimated the bike/car ratio here. It's more like 30:1. Americans drive on the right side of the road. Our British friends drive on the left. Vietnamese drive on both. There is little semblance of order. It actually kind of makes it fun.

-At the Cu Chi tunnels today I got to fire an AK-47. It was a little expensive, but I figured it was something I had to do. Just fired 10 rounds into the distance at some targets. I don't think I hit one. This seemed a little more organized that the trips to the shooting range I was offered in Cambodia. Of course, in Cambodia they have RPGs, grenades and Gatling Guns to use. They also (for a price) will give you a live target, like a cow.

-In general, I find the Vietnamese to be less friendly than Cambodians. They're still nice, but definitely less smiley and friendly.

I suppose my next post will be from New Delhi, India. This is my most anticipated stop on the trip. I will be there for a week. I just imagine a circus from touchdown to takeoff. Until next time...

Human Frogger

I've only been in Ho Chi Minh City for a few hours now but it is definitely an observationalist's (is that a word? No? Ok, I just made it one.) dream come true. Here are some things that have stood out thus far-

1. Everyone wears those pointy straw hats. It's not just a stereotype.
2. What Smith is to Anglos, Nguyen must be to Vietnamese.
3. In the markets, the touch barriers are broken. Those ladies will grab you, pull you, and tug you into their shop. True story, I had one woman pulling each arm in the middle of the crowded market. And these were hard pulls, too. They were even digging into the ground for leverage against the other. I felt as if I needed Solomon as my arbiter.
4. I have never seen so many motorbikes in my life. They must outnumber cars 10-1. So it makes it a little difficult in crossing streets since there are no traffic lights. It is truly like playing human frogger. I have discovered the secret, though, and that is to just walk out into traffic, maintain a slow and steady pace and all the cars, buses and motorbikes will dodge you. It's a little scary at first, but you get used to it.
5. You can instantly tell that HCMC is more Westernized than Cambodia. Definitely doesn't seem as backward. Plus I've already seen a couple KFCs. Phnom Penh just got its first last month.

Many of you have contacted me about what happened in India. I appreciate your thoughts and my plan is to still continue to the country on Wednesday. I really see no reason not to go. The bombings were a long way from Delhi. I realized that doesn't mean too much, but with the country on a little higher alert, I feel that it should be fine. I'm still concerned the most about Syria, but that's a whole 'nother blog.

Tomorrow I will try to soak up a little history. To be frank, I don't know too much about the Vietnam War (or the American War as it's called here), so I will go to the museums and such that they have and try to glean a little better understanding of what really went down.

Until next time...

A Top 10 List

True to their words, almost everything was closed today in Phnom Penh. This led to an incredibly boring yet somewhat relaxing day. I didn't get up until almost 11. Took a quick jaunt out to buy some street food for lunch and retreated back to my hotel to watch Little Giants and wash my clothes. I then went out to the Russian Market, which I was assured was open. The Russian Market is the big touristy souvenir place. It was open, but about 75% of the shops were closed. I bought a couple water color paintings of Angkor and a couple tshirts (they have good tshirts here) and I was gone.

Now, after dinner with a couple Brits I randomly met, I'm here at my second home- the internet cafe to waste the rest of the night. If you could see me now, I'm watching the YouTube video of Jesse McCartney's "Leavin" and drinking a Pepsi Twist with a straw. Suz, you'd be proud.

So since I had the day, I've been preparing a list of the Top 10 things I'll miss most and miss least about Cambodia. Away we go!

Ten Things I'll Miss Most
10. Cheap food
9. Accuracy of maps
8. Knock-off CDs and DVDs
7. ease of transportation
6. A busy nightlife
5. Cheap massages
4. Overall helpfulness of the people
3. Motorbike rides
2. Random monkey sightings
1. The smiles

Ten Things I'll Miss Least
10. Rats on the street
9. Slow internet
8. The unavailabilty of Lemon Fanta
7. Lizards crawling all over the walls
6. The phrase "Same Same," which must be the first learned by Cambodians
5. The city shutting down for Election Day
4. The trend of the long pinky nail on men (just gross)
3. Cambodian pop music
2. Smelly hotel towels (I have been using my own)
1. The road between Thailand and Siem Reap

Almost Forgot

I almost forgot to share the story that gave Eric the most laughs.

I have been teased pretty much constantly my whole life for having a slightly larger posterior. It's a fact I've come to accept and actually embrace. It doesn't really matter even if I drop pounds, lift weights or take my vitamins. My butt remains the same. I know most of you in reader land have actually probably teased me about it at some point, but, in the immortal words of Tupac- "I ain't mad at cha."

But, as it seems, the Cambodians like to make fun of my rear, as well. They pretty much make no bones about telling me I have a large butt. It's really interesting, actually because I've traveled many places, but the Cambodians are the first people that have actually verbalized their thoughts. This has happened twice.

1. Eric and I decided to get massages in Siem Reap. A typical American massage that lasts an hour costs around $60. Here? $6. It was almost impossible to pass it up. It wasn't necessarily a relaxation massage, but rather one of those where the girl walks on your back. As she is doing so she remarks to her friend, walking on Eric's back something in Khmer. I didn't have to be a Cambodian language expert to know what she was saying. The girls giggled to each other and then piped up in English "It's very big". Thank you, ladies.

2. Haggling is a big part of Cambodian life. From tuk tuk rides to market items, reaching a price that's agreeable to both parties is important. So Eric and I start haggling for a motorbike taxi to take us to the Killing Fields. I contend that both of us can fit on to one motorbike, but the driver says "No, too much weight." Of course I threw him the ol "Are you calling me fat" line and he said no, but that my butt was very big. Eric lost it. The driver explodes into laughter. I politely smile. We took two bikes.

What is it with these people? This would not be considered kosher in the USA. But you know what? I kind of like it. It really doesn't bother me at all and I think its really funny, actually. Just makes me wonder what the folks in India are going to think.

The Election

I just read up a little more about this election tomorrow and I thought I would just link an article about it. Nothing too exciting, but as I understand it, the incumbent Hun Sen is a former Khmer Rouge guerilla. He is expected to win.

http://english.aljazeera.net/news/asia-pacific/2008/07/200872643824630720.html

I can't get the hotlink to work, so you might just have to copy and paste the link if you're interested.

I Guess I'll Have to Stay Another Day

I like Cambodians. There is just something fascinating about them. It is truly difficult to put a finger on it, but I think it's something in their smile. They really love to smile and especially like to smile at foreigners. And we're not talking a half-hearted smile, these are big toothy grins. I didn't really know what to expect from the people when I came. I supposed a suspected generally sad and down-trodden folks because of this country's no-so-distant bloody history, but I have been pleasantly surprised.

I struggle with what I should write in this blog. I don't feel it is in my (or your) best interest to read a minute-by-minute recollection of my days but rather a summation of my observations and experiences. For instance, I could go on and on about how magnificent the temples at Angkor Wat are, but my words don't really do it justice. Angkor Wat, for those of you who aren't familiar is the greater name for a collection of temples re-discovered in the 19th century near Siem Reap, Cambodia. Most of the temples had been lost for centuries, engulfed by the surrounding jungle. I spent most of my day Wednesday touring these temples and really came away with some amazing pictures. It's quite expensive, really, at $20 per day for entrance. Eric and I hired a tuk tuk driver to haul us around all day and act as an unofficial tour guide for $15. Not a bad deal at all.

I had heard that Cambodia was ridiculously inexpensive, but so far I have found that to be a myth. It is cheap, to be sure, but not as much as I had imagined. It's difficult when paying in US dollars for anything to be a huge bargain. So far I haven't purchased much here in way of souvenirs, a t-shirt at Angkor Wat ($2!), a fridge magnet (although I paid for two because I accidently broke one. Let's just say I was testing its untensil strength) and a guide book. Funny thing about guide books here as I only paid $4 for the newest edition of the Lonely Planet guide to Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. Of course, closer inspection reveals that all the pages and pictures have been photocopied and bound together, but it's all the same to me.

As a side note, let me remark about how good of English the children speak here. Of course, they don't deviate much from "Hey mister, postcard one dollar" but you can have a small conversation with them and they truly uunderstand. One particular girl started harrassing me as I ate lunch near Angkor Wat. She was hawking several books about the Khmer Rouge and wanted me to buy one. "Ok, what is the capital of Madagascar? If you don't know, you buy book." Tough little cookie. But, unfortunately, she didn't know who she was dealing with and I spouted "Antananrivo" before she could say much else. She looked dejected. Then mad. Then she left. I guess I trumped her trump card.

Yesterday Eric and I hired a couple of motorbike drivers and they took us to the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, a converted schoolhouse where thousands of innocent people were slaughtered during the reign of the Khmer Rouge in 1975-1979. We then took a little jaunt down the road to the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek. The Killing Fields are home to several dozen mass graves where thousands of bodies were buried. It is estimated that there are up to 12,000 more bodies yet to be unearthed, but it doesn't seem at this moment that the Cambodian government wants to. What's really eerie is that as you walk along the footpath, you can visibly see parts of bone still sticking up from the ground and clothes strewn about. Much is left as it was 30 years ago. I must say that it all still pales in comparison to what I saw at Auschwitz in Poland, but that's not to trivialize the magnitude of the Cambodian genocide.

Ok, enough heavy stuff. Eric and I met an Aussie CSer for dinner last night on the riverfont. She is a delightful gal and we had a great dinner and great conversation. It's funny, but even as the cultures of the USA and Australia seem to be similar (which they are) there are still vast differences. We had a great view of the Pontoon, which is supposedly a popular nightclub on, as the name implies, a pontoon. The only reason I mention this is because we heard later in the evening that the pontoon sank. Too many people on board maybe? Several people could be spotted with pants wet up to the ankles. I kid you not. I have a smile on my face as I retell this story. I can't help but to find humor in the situation.

So this is a strange weekend to be visiting Cambodia. Tomorrow they have a general election and there is a strange vibe in the air. I'm not sure what to make of it, really. All the bars stopped selling alcohol at 11:40pm on Friday night and will not sell again until Monday. Apparently the whole country shuts down for this event. The Aussie CSer I mentioned is a nanny for a employee of the UN who is in Phnom Penh working on investiagtions for the genocide trials and apparently the UN has told its people to avoid all uncessesary travel tomorrow. Unfortunately for me, tomorrow I had planned on traveling to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam by bus. I had my decision made for me. No buses tomorrow. None. Can you believe it? I guess I'll have to stay another day in PP, but tomrorow everything will be closed. What am I going to do? I guess I'll have plenty of time to work on my summer readings for Patterson (I've been informed that some Patterson professors may be reading this so I felt I needed to throw that in. Make a good first impression, you know? :) )

I did get my Vietnam visa, though. After all the stress and worry about getting it and all it took was giving the little guy at the front desk my passport and let him shuffle it over to the Vietnam embassy. Eric and I part now. He returns to Bangkok and I'll go to Vietnam. I guess I'll only for to spend two days in the HCMC now, but tight schedules like that are the American way. Or so I'm told. Wednesday I'll leave for India. More to come!

An update...

I haven't forgotten about you, my faithful readers. I'm actually just kind of busy here in Cambodia. I'll try to get another blog up later this evening, but right now I'm off to meet a Aussie CSer for dinner. More to come later, including how I ended up sitting at a bar drinking a banana milkshake and playing Connect Four with Eric. Classic Patrick.

Border Hopping

This blog will catch you up on what happened yesterday as I tried to cross the Thai/Cambodian border. This is a real story. I take no liberties with it.

The trip from Bangkok to the border is supposed to take about 5 hours. We (Eric and I) were told that buses leave from the bus station about every 30 minutes. No problem. We get up early, have a little breakfast and catch a cab to the bus station. After little to no problem arriving, we find out the buses don't depart every half hour, but every 3 hours. We had just missed the 930 bus so we had to wait for the 1230 bus. Not a huge problem, but I would have preferred not sitting in a plastic chair sucking down diesel fumes for 3 hours.
The bus finally departs, and we're on our way. A fairly uneventful trip, if you don't count the scattered monsoons, randomly picking up large groups of people fromalongside the road, Thai political demonstrations in the middle of the road (literally- a 4 lane road became 2) and the occasional pothole.

We arrive at the bus station and patiently wait for our bus. The lady tells us it will be 20 minutes. An hour later, I'm starting to get worried that the border will close by the time we get there. Eric starts chatting up a Thai girl named Tan and we all quickly become friends. She is crossing the border, too, to see her pseudo-boyfriend in Battambang, Cambodia. We decide to stick with each other as we don't speak Thai and she was a single female traveler who has never been to Cambodia before.

Now the story gets fun.

After a truly uneventful ride (the highlight was learning that Tan's brother is a lady-boy ), the bus dropped us off at the border town Aranyaprathet where we had to get a tuk tuk (think moped with a carriage) to the border station. The driver takes a diversion telling Tan that we need to go to the Cambodian Consulate to get our visas. It's getting dark at this point and my fear is that the consulate is closed. I also feared long lines of travelers just like Eric and I fighting for the last Cambodian visas of the night. I was wrong.

Once we removed our shoes and stepped onto the marble floor, we noticed that no one was there except for two guys sitting and smoking cigarettes at a table. One of them jumped up and said "Visa?". We nodded in agreement and almost instantly a shutter opened against the wall with a man inside, lights came on and voila! open for business! We filled out some paperwork and had our visas within 15 minutes. Not hardly the way it would operate in the States, but hey, who cares? We crossed into Cambodia and could immediately tell we were in a different world. Paved roads gave way to dirt and gravel, pressed shirts gave way to sooty clothes, taxis disappeared. Hundreds of people on the street. Street food in all its glory.

I will cut short the next 30-60 minutes of the day. Let's just say we bargained and haggled for a taxi. The actual events we much more complicated than that, but eventually some guy knew a guy who knew a guy who was a roommate of a guy who once had a vague idea of where Siem Reap is. 3 hours to get there, they said. A busted Toyota Camry pulled up with a cracked windshield and caked with dust. I traced 'Wash Me' with my finger over the trunk as they told us that if we just got in the car and paid $40 US dollars we would be on our way. Let's set the scene. Imagine we're standing on a pile of rocks, dirt blowing , the smell of fried something-or-other permeating the air, backpacks on, surrounded by Cambodians who all want our dollars. The easiest thing to do was get in the car. And so we did.

Only once in the car, we headed back to the border. The driver, who spoke no English turned down into a dark alleyway. A group of Cambodians were perched along side a wall and moved to the car. The driver gets out and opens the trunk, taking our backpacks out and stuffing them in the front seat. The group of guys the proceed to stuff huge Styrofoam boxes into the trunk. They push and push. Kick and push. Slam the trunk, sit on the trunk, jump on the trunk and it is all finally in. Whatever "it" may be. I'm honestly a little worried at this point. What's in the boxes? Cocaine? Heroin? We'll never know. One of the guys tosses a spare tire in the front seat and we're off, heading this time in the right direction.

Think for a second. What is the WORST road you've ever seen? It's undoubtedly rocky, made of dirt or gravel and looks like no one has tended to it in years. Now take that image, multiply it by 10 and you've got a Cambodian highway. I'm not even joking. Words really can not express the terror I felt on that road. The driver varied in speeds from 15-80 miles per hour on the road. Once he came precariously close to a slamming into a mound of dirt. Another time we were about 6 inches from another car. Passing on left and right sides, head hitting the ceiling, watching the gas tank drop until the light came on. This is the ride to Siem Reap. Something was also very strange about the ride and it took Eric and I a few minutes to come up with the answer. No lights. None. Oh, the cars had headlights, but the road had no lights itself. Pitch black. This added to my fears.

The one moment where I felt particularly unsafe was when the driver pulled over without warning. He got out of the car and went to the trunk. He pulled out his cell phone and made a call. He got back in the car, drove another mile and pulled over again. Off to the side of the road I saw flashlights coming at us. People we coming from the darkness towards the car. Driver gets out and opens the trunk, pulling out one of the boxes. A man loads the box on his moped and speeds off. A girl pays him. He returns to the car and we drive on.

Maybe to hear me tell this story doesn't sound so bad, but trust me, it was worrisome. I think I would have felt more safe had I made the trip during the day and could see what was going on around me, but as it was, there was nothing to see. Only more darkness. Couple that with a non-English speaking driver who looked to be having a bad day and I felt pretty unsure of the situation. I am very very very thankful I wasn't making the trip alone. Eric assured me he felt the same way. I think I will consider this another notch in my traveler's belt.

Long story short, we got to Siem Reap about 1100pm and made our way to the guest house we had booked.

Today we saw the Angkor Wat temples but I'm much too tired now to blog about that. Maybe tomorrow.

Bits and Pieces

-The currency system is weird here. ATMs dispense US dollars. Accepted currencies are the USD, Thai baht and Cambodian riel. The riel is used as coins because of the low exchange rate. 1000 riel is worth approximately 25 cents.

A Briefing

I just thought I would check in and say Im safely in Cambodia. The experience (and thats the best way to describe it) getting here was quite a memorable one and one in which I didnt know if I was going to come out alive. There were moments when I slightly feared my safety.

Anyway, Ill give you all the lowdown on that later today, but right now I need to eat breakfast and get ready to explore the Angkor Wat temples in Siem Reap. Someone we met along the way termed Cambodia as ''the Wild West'' of SE Asia. So far hes proving to be accurate.

A Show With Everything But Yul Brynner

Bangkok has been nothing like I had imagined. I envisioned seeing the sights, the temples, eat some pad thai, and relax. I have done none of those things. In fact, probably the one thing that Bangkok is known for (besides a ping pong show)- the Reclining Buddha - I haven't even seen. You would think this would constitute a travel failure, but you'd be wrong. Bangkok has been unexpectedly wonderful thanks to a handful of great people.

It didn't start that way, though. In fact, I was openly considering jumping ship early and moving onto Cambodia. As I alluded to in an earlier post, I had my first dicey CS experience. I'll take the blame for it, though. I hastily decided on requesting a decorated CSer to be my host, ignoring the warning signs. It's really too much to explain on here, so if you like I'll give you the low down when I get back. Basically my host left for the weekend once I got there and left me sharing her apartment with a sketchy character. I opted to leave. Another guy who was sort of in the same predicament I was in- Eric from San Fran- struck out together and found a nice guest house in which to stay. This is where my story takes a turn for the better.

Long story short, I have ended up meeting (via CS) a truly wonderful group of Thais. They are so wonderful, in fact, that I've become a flip-flopper and I'm now staying an extra day in Bangkok just so I have another night with them. These are the types of people I want to meet. One of the girls actually works at the US Embassy so we had a chance to talk a little State Department (for those of you who don't know, I interned with the State Department in 2006 in DC). Turns out both our life-long goals are to obtain Diplomatic passports.

So what HAVE I actually done in Bangkok? Well, I went and saw The Dark Night, which is the new Batman movie. Some of you might be reminded of how 3 years ago I gave up an opportunity to see Pompeii to stay in Rome and watch Star Wars. You'll be happy to know I haven't changed. After the movie last night, we (a group of about 8) went to karaoke. This isn't the karaoke of the states, mind you. This is Asian karaoke. Same singing principles still apply, but instead of in front of an entire bar audience, you're stuffed in a posh little room with your friends. Food and drink are served. It was truly a great evening. If you've ever wanted to see me singing karaoke to a Thai pop song, I have video.

Today was the most interesting, though. A group of 4 of us went to a Muay Thai boxing match. This was truly a cultural experience. Of the approximately 1,000 people in the Cracker Jack box of a gym, I would estimate only about 25 foreigners. The first bout was between two 14 year old boys. Blue trunks won by TKO. While the match progresses, the crowd gets more collectively involved (read: more bets are placed) and by the 5th round its darn near pandemonium. I had a nice Aussie fellow beside me who does a bit of Muay Thai himself and he explained a lot about what was going on. He told me that these guys, who will fight approximately 200 bouts in their career, are taken from rural villages and groomed to fight to make money for their families. It's the only income some families have. Then, once the fighters retire, the outfit will pay for their educations. Seems like a fairly good deal to me but I'm sure some will disagree. The fighters seemed to be in good spirits and enjoying themselves, though, as they smiled before, during and after the matches. I came thisclose to putting down some Thai baht on a fight, but couldn't bring myself to trust a toothless fellow with my 100 baht bill. Plus I couldn't really say for sure that I knew what I was doing. I struggle with placing bets at Keeneland and they speak English.

So with the aforementioned extra day I've decided to spend in Thailand, I'm going to see the sights tomorrow. I'll take all the obligatory photos so I can finish the Bangkok chapter of my trip. It has been a stop that has been unexpectedly wonderful.

Bangkok- Oriental City

So last night (my last in Seoul) I had one of the most amazing nights of my life. Then, the following morning I had one of the worst mornings ever. Allow me to explain...

First I must say I hit the CS jackpot with my second host in Seoul, the Kims. The daughter is a member of CS and her parents have gracious allowed her to open their home to foreigners passing through. The apartment was quite spacious and I even had my own room! Score! To top it off, the next morning (yesterday) the mother made me a delicious breakfast. Sylvia, the daughter (who had already gone to work) wasn't home so conversation was minimal with the mother.

That evening, I met Sylvia at a metro stop and we went to dinner with a group of her friends. What proceeded was 4 hours of laughter, chatting and generally sharing culture with one another. It really was fabulous. I felt like a rock star. The 6 of them (whose English abilities varied) asked me questions all night, varying from my thoughts on Bush to Rajon Rondo. They taught me all about Korean culture, i.e. how I am supposed to hold my glass when being served and to whom I should serve to how I should speak to elders. I, in turn, shared with them American culture. It was another one of those "I can't believe this is happening to me" moments.

Maybe I'm naive. Actually, I'm sure I am. But why are there so many problems and conflicts in the world today? There were no hostilities last night, we all truly enjoyed each others company and the opportunity to get to know someone else. Maybe it's just my generation that has been brought together with ease by the miracle of the internet, but I don't see how you can't respect and marvel at cultural differences and see people, although maybe physically different, as just that- a person. Maybe one day I can change all this.

Unfortunately, this morning will go down as one of the worst ever. One too many pieces of kim chi, I suppose. I got pretty sick. I had to hold it all down and in on a hour and a half bus ride to the airport and I was pretty sickly. Thankfully, after purging myself I feel better now.

So now I'm in Bangkok, Thailand. I will just say this for right now- I might be in my first sticky CS situation. Nothing major, I just really have no idea what's going on right now. I'm at this girl's apartment, with another American guy from San Fran (who is really cool) but the host hasn't shown up. Finding a hotel for tonight isn't out of the question. Suffice it to say I'm just a little confused. I'll keep you posted.

Bits and Pieces

-Had an encounter with a Thai she-male at the airport. He/she was using a urinal in the men's bathroom but definitely had boobs and long hair and sacheted (SP?) when walking.

-Cool shirt of the day - "Minuteman Meat Puppet Descendents (sic) Agst."

-Thailand is CHEAP!

-I re-read some of my blogs. I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. Blame is on those dang foreign keyboards.

More to come. This could get interesting...

Wrapping Up Seoul

I have really enjoyed my time in S Korea! I will explain why more tomorrow, but now I must hit the hay. The easy part is over, now the trip gets interesting...

I Could Toss a Rock into the North

So I had to get up early today because I finally got a tour of the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone). For those of you who are a little rusty on your history, the DMZ is the most heavily fortified border in the world that links North Korea and the South. You have to have a passport, go through checkpoints and bypass minefields to get there. My type of trip!

I won't bore you with historical data in this blog. If you want to know those things, you can ask to see my pictures (or lack thereof- they don't take kindly to pictures there) when I get back. Instead, I will tell you the story of how I almost missed the tour.

I got lost. Big surprise. I had to be there at 745 and I got off the subway at 730. I had plenty of time. Only, as I stated before, I got lost. I entered what I thought was the Lotte Hotel. I was instructed to go to the 6th floor. I found an elevator and got on. Only the elevator didn't stop on the 6th floor- just the 11th. So I take the elevator to the 11th and walk down. I open up the 6th floor door and it was an empty movie theater. Crap. I look at my clock, 738. I decide to walk down the stairs back to the 1st floor. I walk down 6 flights of stairs and get to the 1st floor door. Locked. The whole building was dark. Holy crap. I'm going to miss this tour. I RUN back up 11 flights of stairs, get the elevator and take it back down to 1. I, panting and sweating, ask a guy where the lobby of the Lotte Hotel is. He takes pity on me and points me in the right direction. I arrive, a couple minutes late but find most people havent even checked in yet. All for naught. At least I got some exercise.

Tonight I have made plans to attend a traditional Korean performance at the Chongdong Theater. http://www.chongdong.com/chongdong_english/index.asp . I'll be sure to let you know how that goes.

Bits and Pieces

-I dont have a Vietnam visa yet. The clock is ticking. Stay tuned.

-I saw the Korean Stephanie Tanner in the subway today.

-I have a standing offer to eat dog meat tomorrow night. I'm not sure if I will accept.

-Has anyone seen the Street Views option on Google Earth? Simply amazing. It will literally show you what my front door looks like. Along with my car on the street. I'm blown away.

-Random t-shirt sighting of the day "Essence of fresh brimming hum". Chuck, I think the Rodriguez Bros would sell really well over here. You just had the wrong market in the States.

*Take note I made two blog posts in 30 minutes so be sure to check out What Happened Yesterday*

Until next time...

What Happened Yesterday

Sorry I didn't get around to posting yesterday. I literally had no time to post. I posted a message on the Seoul CS site and asked if anyone wanted to meet up and the response was overwhelming. I spent most of yesterday meeting with CSers across the city.

After morning touristy things, I met up with a CS Ambassador from Seoul named Min Kyoung in the afternoon. She showed took me to a little Korean restaurant where we got an order of Kim Bap (think raw fish-less sushi) and took it back to her apartment and chatted for a while. This was actually one of the more interesting conversations I've had since I've been on this trip. We talked about a wide variety of things including travel (she's moving to Buffalo in August), North Korea (she says South Koreans really don't think much about North Korea) and finally marriage. This is where I got a good laugh...

You see, Min Kyoung is engaged. More or less. When she told me this I immediately looked at her hand. No ring. Her boyfriend (an American from Buffalo) asked her to marry him. He presented her with his great-grandmother's engagement ring and she accepted. Only, as she put it, "So I´ve been engaged like 10 times." Curious. As we dove a little deeper into conversation I find out that in the Korean culture, one of the first questions you ask is "Will you marry me." Kind of the Korean version of "So, um, do you think I'm marriage material?" I went on to explain to her about what engagment means to Americans and the traditions of the proposal. Min Kyoung doesn't always wear her engagement ring because as she said "It doesn't go with jeans." I then explained to her why her boyfriend/fiancee gets upset when she doesn't wear it.

But, after talking with her I can tell she really loves him and wants to be married to him. There was just a culture gap when it came to the symbolism of the ring and it left both parties a little confused. Min Kyoung, if you're reading (which I hope you are), I wish you and Jake nothing but the best! Just make sure that if you want to keep him happy, keep the ring on. ;)

My short time with her was full of great conersation. Another testament to the beauty of CouchSurfing. After leaving, I went to meet another CSer in the northern part of town near the Korean University. Do you ever have one of those moments in your life where you look around and just take stock of your life? Do you ever find yourself in a situation where you just are amazed at your surrounding and can't believe its really happening to you? This was me last night. So I find myself sitting at a table in a small Korean restaurant eating Sam gyeopsal (literally Triple Fat meat) with two German girls (one of which is half Korean, the other half Japanese), a Korean guy, a Cambodian guy and a Samoan. Can anyone else reading say they found themselves in a a similar company lately?

Anyway, we had good eats, good conversation and good companionship for a couple hours. I then returned back to my place for the evening. I had to get up early...

The Seoul-ful part of my trip

I had to make the obligatory Seoul/soul pun. I'm sorry.

So after spending pretty much the whole day in the Narita/Tokyo Airport I have landed here in South Korea. I had originally planned to take a tour of the DMZ tomorrow, but since I was the only person signed up for the trip, coupled with the fact that the North and the South are having some "peace talks" the tour got cancelled. I had help out hope that I might be able to step inside North Korea for even the briefest of moments just to say I had been. Oh well. Kim Jung-Ill will have to wait for another day for Patrick Barker.

I must say I don't know what to expect from this city. On the exterior, it resembles Tokyo. Bright lights, loads of people and cement everywhere. Hopefully tomorrow I can find a softer side of the city. I'm also looking into taking in a traditional Korean theater performance on Wednesday. Should be interesting.

My hosts in Seoul for the first two nights live near the Olympic section of town. Of course, you remember that Seoul hosted the 1988 Summer Olympics. I just finished asking them how they became a couple, a question that is surprisingly easily answered. You see, he is a Spaniard, she is a native of Sri Lanka via Toronto. They now live in Seoul. Pretty cool if you ask me.

I don't have a whole lot to say, since I just arrived, but I did make a few notes.

-When I arrived at the airport going through customs I was stopped and asked if I was a member of the Army or Air Force. Darn this haircut. I even asked the guy if my haircut was the reason he stopped me. It was.

-Want to know how Korean police slow people down on the interstate? Just place random flashing red and blue lights in bushes.

-I am reminded that Korea has the most missionaries per capita of any country in the world as I see dozens of crosses fixed to buildings on the drive in.

-My iPod touch is a spectacular gadget. I recommed anyone who is traveling to own one.

-The cab ride to the apartment was a nightmare. My Korean is limited to Hello and Thank You, so trying to give directions wasn't easy. Luckily I was in the right neighborhood and my host came to my rescue.

-I have a business proposition to anyone who will listen. What we will do is start screen-printing tshirts to sell in Asia. Shirts with English written on them are all the rage. The funny thing is, the shirts don't even make sense in English. So all we have to do is slap a few random phrases on shirts (think: The chimney sweep eats apples, et al.) and we're banking big bucks. Sleep on it.

More on Korea tomorrow...

A Shoulder to Sleep On

So my time in Japan is winding down. I left Tomoko and Kamakura this morning. I took this opportunity to visit the "big city" so to speak. I headed off to Tokyo early in the morning. It was about an hour train ride to Shinjuku Station where I met Setsuko, another CS member who agreed to show me around town.

Can I just say how wonderful CouchSurfing is? How else could I meet so many wonderful people wherever I go? Setsuko and I went to Kichijoji where we had lunch and had good conversation. Her english was really superb as she works as an editor for one of the large Tokyo newspapers. We walked around a local park and I asked her (tactfully) the question that had been on my mind. What do Japanese history books say about World War 2? What are children taught? As it turns out, not much. Apparently the Battle of Pearl Harbor only occupies a couple sentences in the pages of Japanese history and I find out you'd be hard pressed to get any Japanese veterans to talk about their experiences. I guess if you lose the war, there's not much to say. It makes me wonder how my knowledge of history would be different if the outcome of the War was different.

Anyway, enough of the heavy stuff. Setsuko and I spent most of our short time together trying to track down fridge magnets. If you were hoping I would bring you a gift from Japan, please temper your expectations. Japan, as I have found it, is a pretty poor souvenir place. We couldn't find any magnets so I7m holding out hope that the airport will come through for me.

After Setsuko and I departed, I took the train to meet my host for the evening, Yasuke. He has been studying hard for his German exam tomorrow, but he has still been kind enough to offer me his couch. Er, floor mat. His apartment is very very small. One room, half a kitchen and a bathroom. Very cramped, but hey- this is Japanese style. As I write I'm sitting on the floor with a jug of lemon tea and my new favorite sweet- Pocky. Its the equivalent of a small, chocolate dipped breadstick.

Unfortunately for myself and Yasuke, his test is tomorrow morning so he must leave pretty early. I will leave with him and proceed to the airport where my flight doesnt leave until 5. I guess I'll get a lot of reading done tomorrow. But such is life. I'm not paying anything for lodging tonight so I cant complain too much, right?

My flight tomorrow will take me to Seoul, South Korea. I will be staying two nights with a couple from Canada and then two more nights with a Korean family- all CouchSurfers.

Bits and Pieces

-Krispy Kreme has landed in Tokyo. Word on the street says that you have to wait in line two hours to get your hands on some of that goodness. Setsuko was confused the first time she tried them because, as she put it, "it melted in my mouth!"

-I'm fairly sure I could fill a small bathtub with the sweat I've lost in the past two days.

-Speaking of sweat, theres a bottled water company here called Pocari Sweat. Seriously? Who is going to buy bottled water with the word Sweat scrawled on the side of it? Not this guy. No sir.

-I make a good pillow, apparently. On the train ride to Tokyo today a girl fell asleep on my shoulder. I was really unsure what to do. Push her off? Let it ride? I chose the latter. Probably would have had a different response had she been less attractive. ; )

-Heard from a few different places that Japan was expensive. I would like to change that. TOKYO is expensive. Kamakura was much more reasonable. I kid you not, a Goodwill shirt that says "Ohio State" on it that we would pay $2 for in the US sells for $45 here. I kid you not. Saw it with my own two eyes. Part of it is fashion, though.

Alright, skipping off to bed now. Well, more like rolling across the floor onto my mat. No worries tonight though, Yasuke has AC! Party time!

Until I arrive in Korea...