Have You Had Your Rice Today?

Goodbye for Now

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 22:38:00 +0000

I recently read an e-mail from a friend, fellow Couch Surfer, and a follower of this blog that gave me reason to write to you all today. She mentioned that when we had stopped writing, she worried that something had happened to us. I am here to announce to anyone who was worried: we are not dead. We are safe and sound in Columbus, OH. I had sort of assumed that most people just knew that we were coming home. Upon further review of the list of followers, this is clearly not the case. We apologize for not telling you earlier.

I always felt bad about not having written a proper sound-off from this blog, which for 2 years of my life kept me connected to so many of you. So here it is: Thank you all for reading and commenting! The time we spent abroad was life-changing in so many ways. We are better people for having done it. I'm hesitant to say a final goodbye, since we very well may go abroad again in the future, but I will leave you with a quote from T.S. Eliot that sums up how I feel about our return to Columbus, now that we've been back long enough to make us really feel right and home in the world:

"The end of our exploring will be to arrive at where we started, and to know the place for the first time"

Goodbye for now.

The Golden Temple

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 03:50:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on November 14, 2010. That really wasn't that long ago, but it feels light years back.

In our travels, we’ve seen a lot of golden buildings and even a couple of the Golden Temples. But this one takes the cake. As are most buildings covered in gold, it’s very beautiful.

The real beauty of this temple doesn’t lie in the gold plated edifice floating serenely on a sacred pond (The Pool of Nectar), but in the people who care for and visit it. It’s a Sikh (say “seek”) temple, but all are welcome here. When the pilgrims arrive, they are treated as guests and shown the utmost hospitality. We were given a place to sleep, as many meals and as much tea as we required, and a truly welcoming atmosphere. Although a donation of your choosing is requested, all of this is given freely.

A class on their way to the temple.

Sikhism began as a reaction to the caste system, and one of their central tenants is that all humans are equal. This belief is expressed in various ways, one of which is langar, in which a diversity of people sit side by side to share a meal provided by volunteers in a community kitchen. Between 80,000 and 200,000 people stay and eat each day, but the entire process is efficiently run by volunteers. Anyone can join in to help with the food prep or the dish washing.

Everyone awaiting their food

This was way more delicious than it appears

Huge pot of pulao. The cook gave us each a handful to try then shooed us into the eating area

Pots of Chai (tea)

Dishwashing

All over the world, I’ve heard a lot about the ideals of peace and equality, but it’s rare that they manifest themselves so easily. That’s what’s truly remarkable about Amrit Sarovar: while you’re here, you can feel a real openness and peace among the members of humanity.

You might have noticed everyone is wearing a scarf or turban. That's because everyone (men and women both) is asked to cover their hair as a gesture of respect.

McLeod Ganj

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 21:02:00 +0000

We got a bit behind on the posts again: this time due to slow internet connections, strange Picasa behavior, and general laziness. No autocratic government to blame this time I'm afraid. This post was actually written on Sunday, November 14. I can hardly believe that because it feels like it's been ages, even though it was less than a month ago.

We spent almost 3 weeks in McLeod Ganj (sounds like Mc-Cloud Gonj), and most of that time was spent ailing and recovering from amoebic dysentery, but we still had a chance to do a few cool things.

McLeod Ganj

We saw a performance of what began as traditional Tibetan song and dance and what eventually devolved into an interactive 90s dance pop fiasco. But it was a good time.

It was definitely more interpretive than traditional by this point. But note traditional Tibetan coat nonetheless.

We took a short walk to the local waterfall and spent the night sitting around a campfire at a remote café.

That's not me with the guitar, that's a girl who has a great singing voice

We witnessed a limited version of Diwali celebrations as the Indian kids in town lit off extremely loud and precariously aimed fireworks.

We saw Kalachakra Temple and walked a kora around the Dalai Lama’s residence.

One of the Dalai Lama's many seats

Ancient Tibetan texts saved from the Chinese and brought to India

A Tibetan women circumnambulating the Dalai Lama's residence

A prayer flag

We watched monks debate in Namgyal Gompa. They weren’t as animated and entertaining as the ones at Sera Monastery, but they were debating with foreigners and non-monks.

They were speaking Tibetan

We followed the crowd to the 50^th anniversary celebration of the Tibetan Children’s Village School,

where we got to see the man himself, His Holiness the 14^th Dalai Lama, speak. He was really far away and he was speaking Tibetan, but we were there and he was there, so I think that counts for something.

That's him

We also met some new friends, took a couple of yoga classes, played some open-mics, and had a lot of long discussions about the nature of reality and spirituality. McLeod Ganj is like that. It’s in the air.

It ain's all beautiful sunsets and poor kids, but there sure are a lot of both

The Homesick List

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 09:04:00 +0000

Recently I've been homesick, and dreaming of things from back home. So to the future me (who might be sick of being at home), and anyone else who may be wishing that they were traveling around the world, here's a list of things about home that I'm thankful for:

Clean water. This has especially been brought into focus by our bought of amoebic dystentery. Everywhere we've been with the exception of Japan has had undrinkable water. We used to take it for granted that we can drink from the tap. In many many places, water is either untreated or unavailable, and forecasts predict it will become less available as time goes on.

Having the basic necessities covered. While we have enough money (though many others don't), to always be able to find a guesthouse or a (hopefully but not always) clean source of food, it's a real pain to spend an hour going around looking for one while carrying around a huge pack. Plus, once we find one, it's usually kinda dirty. There's a lot to be said for clean and comfortable surroundings that include reliable hot showers.

Being able to make my own food. OK, I'm especially picky about what I eat. But that said, I like being able to control how clean my food is, how much oil goes into it, whether or not the grains are brown, etc. I like being able to make my own tea when I'm sick. I like being able to eat raw vegetables and unpeeled fruit. I like having cuisine made by someone who's actually eaten it before and not just copied it off the internet. It makes a difference.

Having a washing machine. It's really annoying having to give all your clothes to a stranger and hoping they give them back un-ruined the next day. Plus, half the time they come back with little marks on them, like some yarn tied to the hem or a black mark on the tag. Cutting all those off annoys me, and what if I need to read that tag in the future?

Being able to walk into a store and ask for help. Back home, I already know where the hardware store is. I know where I can find some yarn and knitting needles. I don't have to wander all around town consulting maps and locals about where to go and how much it should cost to get there. I don't have to avoid mud, trash fires, rogue trucks, and touts along the way. And once I get there, if I need help, I can ask someone in plain English. I can read the labels and ingredients. I can read the instructions on things after I buy them.

Flannel pajamas and slippers. They're very comfortable, and I don't have them with me.

Soft sheets and most definitely clean blankets.

Almost any kind of quality food from anywhere. OK, American stores are like mega-churches to consumerism. They're really really huge. I don't think there's anything in town here as big as a typical Big Bear, let alone a Home Depot. You can find anything you want in them. Bizarre-o health supplements? Check. Thai spices? Check. Hundreds of kinds of cereal? Check. 25 varieties of soy milk? Check. Non-toxic body lotion? OK, you have to look around a bit, but it's there. This is truly unheard in most parts of the world. When I was in middle school, one of my teachers told me a story about some women they brought over from Russia after the Soviet Union fell. When they first saw an American grocery store, they fell to their knees and cried. I understand this story now. It must have seemed like a dream compared to what they knew.

People who know how to do stuff, and can tell me about it in English. It was really hard learning to knit from a book in Japan. In the US, they have these knowledgeable ladies at the yarn store who can help you. They have those in Japan too, but they don't speak English and can't read my pattern.

Central heating.

Family and Friends (including Bela).

Internet at my command.

My own plants.

Walking down clean streets and through nice parks.

Knowing what to do with my recycling. Sometimes it's harder than it should be to figure out. Sometimes it just doesn't exist. And we have to keep buying plastic bottles of water.

Knowing exactly how to navigate the culture. I know how to tip in the U.S. I know what's considered rude. I know when someone's being appropriate or not so and how to respond.

Being able to throw toliet paper in the toliet and not the trash. Also, I like having soap and sink to wash my hands in.

Not having to bargain for everything. It's seriously annoying sometimes. I don't really know how much things should cost. Plus, it's this whole drama. I have to pretend I'm not interested, or else they'll jack the price up. I'm not a good actor.

Not being openly stared at.

Clean air, relatively free from pollution and honking.

Sidewalks. Really, they're really nice. And pedestrians have the right of way, cows not included.

No stray dogs. Often they're friendly, but sometimes they're dangerous. And also very dirty.

Having a variety of clothing to choose from. Although sometimes this is stressful, since I get racked with indecision.

Celebrating U.S. holidays. I wanted to dress up for Halloween, but it would have been pretty weird since I'd be the only one. I'm also a big fan of Thanksgiving.

That's all I can think of now. I'll probably add more later (in the comments or something.) If you would like to do the same, please feel free.

I Got Worms

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 10:24:00 +0000

Actually, they're not worms. They're amoebas. But we do have parasites.

For about a month now, we've been having off and on Delhi-belly. We thought we just kept catching different bugs everywhere we went, but it turns out that the bugs have been traveling with us. (Actually, we did catch another bug also, but it was just a run-of-the-mill bacteria.) I could catalog our symptoms, but you might be eating. It was in our stomachs and it made us miserable. Use your imagination.

It's been particularly bad for the last week, so we finally went to the doctor. After a consult and a stool sample given in a comically small cup, we were diagnosed with amoebic dysentery. Christin also has a bacterial infection, but that's par for the course. We got a 5-day course of meds to take care of the acute amoebas and a 10-day course to take before we leave the country to eliminate them completely.

Once again, the grand total for all this medicine, doctorly expertise, and peace of mind was about 300 rupees or $6.50. For both of us.

K&C's Patented Travel Wisdom: If you're in a tropical country and you get a weird disease, especially malaria, don't go home. Doctors in India, Thailand, etc. know how to treat these diseases, in many cases better than doctors back home who never see them. And it's also way cheaper.

So don't worry moms and dad. Amoebic dysentery isn't as scary as it sounds. We've got medicine and we'll be better before you know it.

It Ain’t All Sunsets and Touching Moments With Poor Kids

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 06:18:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on October 19th, 2010 but we’re only uploading it now to keep our blog posts in chronological order. The previous posts were delayed due to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

It doesn’t look that far on a map—and really it isn’t—but it took us 76 hours to get from Kathmandu to Delhi. Here’s how it went:

View Larger Map

We got to the bus station in Kathmandu just before 8am on October 16^th. We wanted to go to Lumbini, the birthplace of the Buddha, because we didn’t want to get stuck spending the night in some crappy border town or railway junction. We found the bus very easily with the help of some Bluto looking guy (as in Popeye’s arch nemesis). I was slightly suspicious of him, which unfortunately you have to be of almost everyone who helps you when you’re traveling. It also didn’t help when one of the other bus station touts yelled to me “That bus not going to Lumbini!” as I was getting on. But everything has to be taken with a grain of salt. That guy probably just wanted me to get on his bus.

The bus ride went OK, but as we should have expected it took a lot longer than advertised, so we didn’t reach our destination until after 4pm, too late to leisurely bike around Lumbini. And, as we also should have expected, our destination wasn’t Lumbini. It was Bhairawa, the crappy border town we were trying to avoid. Bluto was trying to quickly and confusingly usher us onto another bus when he pulled Christin’s pack out and it was soaked in water and mud. Keep in mind too that her pack contains about half of everything we have with us (but thankfully not the laptop, which we just happened to luckily store in the drier half of the storage compartment), so that’s pretty significant. She was extremely upset and yelling at him and he was being a general dick about it. Then he just hopped back on his bus and rode away smiling.

Christin was also unhappy with me because I under reacted to the whole thing (as I usually do) so we got in a fight and decided not to get on the bus to Lumbini. The whole time we were fighting a group of Nepali guys gathered around and stared at us. You get used to being stared at when you’re the only white guy in town (or especially when you're the only blond girl), but sometimes you’re just not in the f-ing mood.

Trash along the side of the road, very common all throughout this part of the world

For some reason that baffles me now I thought it would be a good idea to just go five kilometers down the road and find a guest house right next to the border. First, we got on a bicycle rickshaw. After about a kilometer, his bike broke down and we had to get off. Then, a minibus driver offered us 10 rupees each to get to the border. When we got to the border I gave him a 100 rupee note and he gave me 60 rupees change. As I argued for the other 20 rupees he owed me (Purely on principle. 20 Nepali rupees is about 25 cents.), he tried to tell me that there was a tax. I politely told him that that was bullshit because we both knew he wasn’t paying any tax and either way the tax rate is not 100 percent. Finally, after way too much discussion, his partner gave me my money, a tiny and unsatisfying victory.

We spent the night in the shittiest guesthouse we’ve seen since Vientiane. Please heed this advice: NEVER SLEEP IN A BORDER TOWN. We did, however, find a restaurant with a TV that was showing The Simpsons, so we had a one-hour respite.

The next morning, the 17^th, we woke up and leisurely crossed the border into India at Sunauli. Then we entered into negotiations for a shared taxi to Gorakhpur, where we could catch a train to Delhi. First, the guy quoted us 1200 Indian rupees for the whole car. Way too much. We started to walk away and he told us we could get into a shared car for 150 rupees each. That was reasonable so we checked it out. We walked over to the car and then suddenly they wanted 200 each. We objected and they said that if we paid 200 each they would give us the whole back seat and we could leave immediately. We begrudgingly agreed even though we hate dealing with clear swindlers like this. We just wanted some comfort after the rough time we had the day before (A share car would have been 8-10 people plus bags in one SUV).

Then, when we got in the car and paid the 400 rupees, they said we couldn’t leave yet because they were waiting for another person to put in the back seat. When we strenuously objected and reminded them of the deal we had just made not even 60 seconds earlier, they asked for another 100 rupees to leave right away. We got pissed, asked for our money back, and started to get out of the car. But then, the very nice Indian man who had purchased the front seat paid the extra 100 and convinced us to get back in. I guess he had the money and really wanted to leave immediately. He said, “It can’t be helped, these men cheat.”

I must say, though, after the way these guys showed that they were clearly willing to do anything to squeeze more money out of us except for honor the agreements they had just made, I didn’t feel good about rewarding them with my business. But sometimes you just give up and sit back for the ride, which was pretty smooth except for when it started to rain and the windshield wipers didn’t work.

We got to Gorakhpur and went straight to the train station to buy tickets. A travel agent in Kathmandu explained to me how the Indian train ticketing system works for foreigners. Indian trains are always full so Indian people have to book tickets days in advance. But, they keep a “tourist quota” which means that a foreigner can walk up to a special window and buy a ticket the same day of their trip and always get on. I think this causes an Indian person to lose their seat, which isn’t fair, but I still didn’t hesitate to use it when I had the chance.

After wandering through crowds of families camping out on the platform and a dog suckling a litter of puppies, I went up to a random ticket window. The girl there didn’t seem to excited about dealing with me and she gave me vague directions to the “reservation office” down the street. When we finally found our way there it was 2:05pm and the guy at the foreign tourist window told me that the office closed at 2, so I couldn’t get a ticket today.

View from our hotel in Gorakhpur

Cow in the train station

We went to four different hotels and picked the least dirty one, took one of those “hit the hot spots” sink baths in cold water and went to eat at the surprisingly good open-air restaurant downstairs. Right after we sat down a cow came up and started licking the clean glasses.

The next day, the 18^th, we bought a ticket for the Vaishalli Express leaving Gorakhpur at 5:05pm and arriving in New Delhi at 6:30am the following day. The finish line was in sight, but the trainathalon had yet to begin.

We bought tickets for the sleeper class because we hate air conditioning (It’s always too cold) and it was really cheap. Plus, it was perfectly comfortable in China. It turns out that India is a different country than China.

The sleeper class has 3-tiered compartments with six bunks and during the day everyone sits on the lower bunks like they’re a couch. Same as China. But when the train pulled into the station we looked into the windows and there were way more than 6 people sitting in each compartment. Did we do the math wrong?

It turns out that the train companies just keep selling tickets for “standing room” in the sleeper cars and regardless of confirmed tickets and seat numbers, things are just a big free-for-all. Shortly after we settled in three big railway cops plopped down in our compartment and packed us all right in. At one point, a man who had a ticket for one of our seats demanded that one of the police officers get up. Things got heated and the cop grabbed for his beating stick but luckily his friend held it back from him. The guy eventually had to give up and let the cop sit in his seat.

The guy sitting next to us explained that the guy did technically have the right to the seat, but he rudely approached the cop and didn’t show him the proper respect. Also, the cop was a cop and the man was poor so he didn’t have much power in this situation. If the cop had beat him for his rudeness, nothing would have happened because the man was poor and the cop was a cop. In India, the rules are vague and everything is a compromise.

A bunch of people lingered in our seats until about 11pm when we ticket holders finally decided we wanted to go to bed. Christin got into her middle bunk and I laid out on the lower bunk. One of the standing room guys was sitting on the corner of my bed and I didn’t say anything because he didn’t have anywhere to go and I could spare the space. I fell asleep and when I woke up he was sleeping head to toe with me.

We woke up at about 6:30 in the morning on the 19^th to the sun rising over some beautiful Indian countryside. We did not, however, wake up at 6:30 in New Delhi station as planned. We finally arrived in New Delhi after noon, six hours late and 76 hours after leaving Kathmandu.

Sometimes there's beauty in even the awfulest of situations

We caught an auto rickshaw (or tuk-tuk for those of you familiar with the Thai system) to the apartment of Indu Jaggi, our couch surfing host and the mother of the world famous Sid from Hong Kong. She so far she has treated us to a nice homemade vegetarian Indian lunch, a hot shower, our first Hindu temple, a giant statue of Hanuman, an Indian-Chinese dinner (quite a unique cuisine indeed), and plenty of conversation and good humor. It’s almost midnight now and I’m looking forward to sleeping in a clean bed.

Skipping Through Nepal

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Fri, 29 Oct 2010 16:53:00 +0000

We didn't really stay in Nepal very long. About a week and half I guess. During our time there, we didn't write any blogs, mostly because we were either disconnected from the internet or sick and unwilling. Mostly the latter. We headed straight for Kathmandu, and along the way we enjoyed the change in scenery: in contrast to the dry unending plains of Tibet, northern Nepal is lush, green, and crammed together. There were waterfalls everywhere, and it seemed as though the Nepalis decided it would just be better to let them do their thing than to try to tame them, because they regularly ran right across the road.

View from our bus ride

After arriving in Kathmandu and rejoicing in the creativity of their knick-knacks and tourist clothing, we decided to do a 4-day motorbike tour of Kathmandu valley. First, we headed to Bouda to see Boudhanath. We changed hotels here, something that boggled our guesthouse owner Santosh, since it's only like 15 minutes away by moto. We just wanted to stay near Boudhanath, which is a beautiful giant Buddhist Stupa. It was built sometime around 590-604 CE or 464-505 CE, depending on who you ask. Either way, it's really ancient. It may or may not have been built by the Tibetans, but in any case, they assumed it's upkeep a long long time ago, and have been visiting it as a holy site ever since.

From there, we headed to Kopan monastery, also very close by. Kopan was founded by Tibetan monk Lama Thubten Yeshe, who is famous for among other things being among the first of the Tibetan refugee monks to take on western students, and later choosing to reincarnate himself as a westerner. As such, it has become a popular destination for western tourists and spiritual seekers. We just happened to have read a book about Lama Yeshe while we were in Laos, so when we heard his monastery was nearby, we decided to pay a visit. It was an exceedingly beautiful monastery, among my favorite of all the temples and monasteries we've visited in our travels.

After that, we visited a nunnery in Shivapuri national park called Nagi Gompa. In our time here in Asia, we've visited many temples and monasteries, but never a nunnery. They, and nuns, are in fact somewhat rare, so I wanted to visit one. Once there, an older nun happily showed us around their simple temple, gesturing to communicate what was what and who was an incarnation of who. After that, we went on a long uphill hike with a nice Austrian guy so that we could get a good view of the mountains. The view never materialized, but we got some exercise along the way.

Prayer flags at Nagi Gompa

Next, we headed to Kakani, from where we could get a glimpse of the Himalayas from the other side. Unfortunately, it was cloudy both the night and morning we were there, so we could only get the slightest glimpse of them through the clouds and only for about 10 minutes.

On the way to Kakani, we spotted a bus which had crashed on the side of the road and been left there. Upon closer investigation, we discovered 2 small girls playing in the wreckage in what we perceived to be a dangerous spot. We took their pictures and then offered to show them in an attempt to coax them out of there, which worked... temporarily. After fixing their hair and posing for another picture, they headed right back for the wreckage. Sigh...

I guess getting their hair done made them squinty

This and the speed at which they drive plus this probably makes for the crashes

By the time we arrived back in Kathmandu, we were both suffering from a full-on bout of traveller's diarrhea, which later compounded itself with a head cold. After waiting out the sickness, we decided we didn't really want to go trekking for 10 days or more and since we missed the 3-day meditation retreat in Pokhara we had wanted to do, we decided to high-tail it to India and spend the rest of our time there. We spent the rest of our time in Kathmandu recovering, talking with our guesthouse owner who treated all the guests in his hotel as though they were guests in his home, and generally avoiding the Dashain festival, since it involves the ritual sacrificial killing of thousands of goats.

a puja, or an offering, for the Dashain festival

Us with the guesthouse owner, Santosh

China in Tibet

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Tue, 26 Oct 2010 09:19:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 27th, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

Tibetan children in traditional dress at the Norbulingka

Mom fixing her up with the proper headdress

China has been occupying Tibet now for 60 years, and there is a lot said about the good things (mostly by China) and the bad things (mostly by everyone else) China has done there. Here are my impressions:

Good Things

The touristy section of Lhasa is really nice and a lot of the temples and monasteries that China destroyed are now being rebuilt. Also, they (the Chinese) don’t slaughter pigs in the Jokhang anymore.

Buddhas at Tashilunpo Monastery

Bad Things

All of the aforementioned good things are for the benefit of tourists and much of the money they bring in goes to the Chinese government in the form of travel permits. Before we went to Tibet, we had to pay a huge lump sum to arrange the necessary permits and the guide we needed to enter the Tibetan Autonomous Region (TAR) and only after we entered could we slowly trickle our Renminbi down to individual Tibetans for food, lodgings, and the handicrafts that we tourists so covet (in order to prove that we actually were there).

Unemployment seems to be a huge problem among the Tibetans. Our guide took us to a local teahouse where men go in the morning to get leads on where some work is available around town. Also, our tour group mates were harangued by a very drunk Tibetan man one night who insisted that they only patronize Tibetan owned establishments because he said the Chinese come in and take all the jobs and Tibetans can’t find work.

The Han-ification of Tibet is another problem. The Chinese government is using economic incentives to move Chinese people into Tibet in order to change the ethnic make up of the area and artificially bolster local support for their claims on the region. One recent trend has been an increase of Tibetan women marrying Han men, which is all well and good. Love is love is love and all that. But, the government has a policy of hiring Chinese men and Tibetan women to work together on highway projects in the TAR in an effort to promote such unions because of course, their children will be considered Chinese, not Tibetan. It’s kind of like America’s one-drop theory but it works in the opposite direction.

Prayer flags at a high mountain pass

The Tibetan people (like all Chinese people) completely lack any freedom of political expression. Pictures of the current Dalai Lama are banned in Tibet, but I heard rumors that a few people might have some hidden in their homes. One day we were on the bus and the driver started playing a pop song about the Dalai Lama on the radio. Our guide got very nervous and insisted that we get off. Images of the current Panchen Lama (who is being held under house arrest as the youngest political prisoner in the world) are likewise banned, but the Tibetans get around this by posting pictures of the former Panchen Lama. They are allowed, however, to put up pictures of the Chinese appointed Panchen Lama, but we didn’t see any.

Yamdrok, a holy lake outside of Lhasa

We also heard stories about other political prisoners. One person told us about their uncle. He was a monk at Drepung Monastery when the Chinese took over. At the beginning of the Cultural Revolution he was imprisoned for 2 years. When he was released he returned to Drepung but it had been destroyed. Drepung used to be the biggest monastery in the world, but it was still being rebuilt when we visited it.

Drepung Monastery

Another person told us about their friend who was sent to prison for life in 2008. Only his family is allowed to visit him and ask about the charges against him. If his friends attempt to visit him or speak to his family they put themselves at risk, so no one even knows why he is really in prison. We heard one theory though. Since he was educated, he would occasionally go to villages and give teachings. When he did, he referred to the area where they all lived as Tibet instead of China. He was very brave, but he wasn’t very careful.

We also saw a lot of poverty in Tibet, but that was the story all over China. Some neighborhoods had brand new shopping malls, others had children playing around garbage fires. Some people drove foreign luxury cars, others followed you around waiting for you to finish your water so they could get the deposit on the plastic bottle. The biggest difference was that in Lhasa there seemed to be an ethnic divide. There were plenty of Han Chinese in the area and there were plenty of beggars, but none of the beggars were Han.

A woman's home outside of Drepung Monastery.

We also heard a little bit about education in Tibet. School is taught in Mandarin and Tibetan is studied like a foreign language, but only through primary school. Starting in high school all classes are taught in Mandarin. Tibetan history is not taught in school. If a Tibetan wants to learn his or her own history, they have to find a way to access the whole cannon of banned literature on the subject.

My Final Evaluation

The suspicious historical claims to Tibet made by Chinese scholars do not justify the slow destruction of Tibetan culture and history and the desire of the Chinese government to look bigger on a map does not justify the continued subjugation of the Tibetan people. Free Tibet!

Ancient wisdom preserved in these hundreds-of-years-old texts

Mt. Everest

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 05:22:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 27th, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

The other day I realized that mountaineers must really enjoy suffering. I mean, think about it. They climb high-altitude snow covered mountains for fun. Their trek involves suffering through cold, dirt, wind, gruel, and possible altitude sickness all for what? As near as I can figure it’s either for the glory or the “experience.” Well, the experience is surely mostly suffering.

Our first view of the Himalays

I came to this conclusion as we were trekking the relatively easy 4 kilometers to Everest Base Camp. First of all, there are 2 Everest Base Camps and both have their rigors. There is the South Base Camp in Nepal, which requires around 14 days of trekking to reach and is slightly lower at 5,360 meters (17,590 ft), and the North Base Camp in Tibet at 5,545 meters (18,192 ft), which requires surmounting not mountains but Chinese bureaucratic red tape. We chose the Tibetan version.

Mt. Everest at sunrise

Basically, the hard part is securing all the necessary permissions from the Chinese government (which really isn’t so much hard as it is expensive and subject to the ever-changing whims of the Chinese government). After that, we just rode up a really bumpy road in a 4WD Toyota Land Cruiser and stayed the night inside a yak wool tent. In the morning, we had the option of either taking a bus up to the hill that comprises the base camp, or we could hike the 4 kilometers it takes to get there. Sangpo, our guide, explained to us that hiking is more “glorious,” so we chose that option. (Sangpo, however, still rode the bus to meet us at the military check-point where we had to secure permission one last time).

Us after our grueling hike (somehow we look exhilarated. Must be the glory.)

Which brings me to realizing that mountaineers like suffering. We only walked 4 kilometers along a bumpy road, but it was pretty rough. It was freezing cold with frigid winds blowing in our face, and the up-hill trail itself was much more rocky than glorious. But when we got to the top of the hill, the view of Mt. Everest was beautiful. It was definitely worth it. Plus, now we get to say we hiked to Everest Base Camp, which sounds way more impressive than it actually is.

Basecamp is that hill there with all the people on top

Throwing our prayer papers after arriving at last at the highest pass

Lotsa Lhasa

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 08:34:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on October 1^st, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

Today was a good day in Tibet.

Spinning prayer wheels

First, we got up bright and early and had some oatmeal with goji berries. Actually, it wasn’t bright. It was 7:30 and the sun hadn’t risen yet. Lhasa (and the rest of China) is on the same time zone as Beijing so the sun gets going pretty late here.

Then, we met up with our tour guide Sangpo (song-poh) and our tour partners Paddy and Karen and headed over to the Jokhang. In order for foreigners to legally enter the Tibetan Autonomous Region, we have to be part of a tour group. Usually Christin and I hate being on tours, but actually I don’t know how we could have navigated the Jokhang without Sangpo. The place is like a 1300-year-old labyrinth of esoteric Tibetan sacredness. So, so many Buddhas!

Monk huddle in front of the Jokhang

In front of the Jokhang devout pilgrims were doing full body prostrations. Many of them had travelled thousand of kilometers from distant corners of the Tibetan plateau on foot, stopping every few steps to make a prostration in the direction of Lhasa. The whole area was filled with the clap-scrape sound of their hand protectors.

Doing prostrations

Next, we did the Bakhor circuit, which is also popular with the pilgrims. You start in front of the Jokhang and then circumambulate (walk around in a circle) the building clockwise. It’s very important that you walk clockwise because in Tibetan metaphysics going clockwise causes you to look inward and going counter-clockwise causes you to look outward. Along the way, there’s a vibrant market selling all sorts of food, Tibetan essentials, and tourist crap. We went back later and bought a little bit of each.

Dried fruit and yak cheese

On the way to lunch, we ran into a couple of friendly monks on a staircase and I took their picture. Then, they asked Sangpo if I could print the picture for them. I said yes and then they grabbed a little boy and started decking him out in his full length Tibetan overcoat. We went outside and they all posed for pictures in front of the Jokhang. Then we went to a little photo shop and they picked the best shots to be printed. They tried to pay, but I insisted. It was only 14 rmb, and after I paid one of the monks tried to shove a 50 into my pocket. I again vehemently refused and he grabbed my hand and shook vigorously and repeatedly and said, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you…”


Looking about as happy as most boys are about getting dressed up for pictures

After lunch we went to the Potala Palace, the former residence of the Dalai Lama. It was really big and beautiful on the outside and packed with historically significant stupas and buddhas that are plated with gold as thick as a yak’s hide. But, I can see why the Dalai Lama didn’t like living there. It wasn’t very homey. They did, however, have a traditional Tibetan dry toilet where your turds fall over 10 meters before hitting the ground, making it the longest toilet in the world. But you couldn’t poop in it anymore.

Potala Palace

We asked Sangpo if the 14th Dalai Lama pooped here. He said, "probably, he was very naughty," and laughed.

The last pre-planned stop of the day was Sera Monastery, which lies at the base of one of the mountains that ring the Lhasa valley. We made a wish for the health of our niece and nephew, Luke and Mia, and got our noses ashed to ensure our own health, and then we went to watch the monks debate. I’ve always wanted to see this since the first time I heard about it in college. One of the most important things you gotta do on the path to enlightenment is cultivate your awareness, and Tibetan monks do this every day by having intense discussions about the nature of emptiness, impermanence, and suffering.

Monks debating

Karen, Paddy, and us with our ashed noses

It works like this: one monk sits down and the other monk stands over him. The standing monk asks an extremely difficult question. The sitting monk tries to answer it. When his answer is wrong (which it always is) the standing monk corrects him with another question punctuated by a flamboyant hand slap. Things can get pretty heated, but it's all in good fun. The same monks I saw screaming at each other were laughing a minute later.

About to get clapped

With our official itinerary complete, Christin and I went back to the Bakhor market to buy some crap. We had a great time haggling. Just like with the monks, the negotiations can get intense, but in the end everyone’s smiling. We got a great deal on a monk-style bag and some prayer beads that may become useful if we ever learn a mantra, but for now they just look cool as a bracelet.

Prayer beads. (Ours are wooden)

Finally (I can’t believe this all happened in one day!), we wanted to just sit and relax, so we went out to a bench on the main street. Christin sat and knitted, and I started playing the guitar. Before we knew it, I had attracted a decently huge little crowd. Some of the first people to notice were a group of pilgrims who looked like they looked like they were fresh off the road and just about to reach the Jokhang and the end of their long journey. When they saw me they stopped and listened to “I Know” and then clapped with their wooden hand protectors still on.

Part of the crowd

Thank you Lhasa for being an awesomely interesting city and thank you Tibetans for being an awesomely awesome people. That’s enough for one day. I’m tired and I’m going to bed.

Kale shoo!

Dalai Lama and Obama

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 17:15:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 27th, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

I don’t even know where to begin about our 3-day horse trek from Songpan, so I’ll just begin like this: We took a 3-day horse trek from Songpan and it was awesome.

Christin said: "It felt like something from a childhood dream. There we were, wandering through lush, forest-covered mountains on horses alongside a rushing stream so clear you could drink from it (and we did). As we rode, the lonely warbling songs of our Tibetan guides were interspersed with their rough calls and chides to the horses and the occasional yak moo. While we were riding, all I could think was that this is what I had imagined somewhere in the recesses of my mind when I first dreamed of traveling the world."

On the first night, one of the guides asked me where I was from and I said, “America.” He beamed and exclaimed, “Obama!” From then on he and the rest of the guides (and eventually the 4 Chinese people on the trek) called me Obama, so I started calling him Dalai Lama. He smiled and then explained the current political situation to me, “Tibet. Dalai Lama good.” Smile and thumbs up. “China. Dalai Lama.” Frown and thumbs down. How delightfully succinct.

Dalai Lama and Obama

When we reached the high pass on the first day of the trek, we got off our horses to walk down to the camp and suddenly Dalai Lama started loudly whooping and threw mini-prayer flags into the air like confetti. Then, he tied another prayer flag onto the already overloaded post marking the high point. I guess that’s how those things get made. Later, Mike (the Tibetan guy who organizes the treks) told me that those prayer flags ensured good luck, health, and prosperity for Dalai Lama’s family and maybe our families and our villages and whoever else we care about, or something like that.

Hakyulo!

On the second day we rode up to a high pass with a view of Ice Mountain. Even though we were already well over 3,000 meters (4,500 feet), me and a couple of the other idiots on the tour decided that the best thing to do would be to sprint a few hundred meters up a rocky ledge. We got a slightly better view, an altitude headache, and the other two guys vomited in the middle of the night.

Panda climbing his way to a mild bout of climate sickness w/ ice mountain in the background

The scenery was so beautiful that we took over 700 pictures (we were able to get it down to only 77 after some serious deleting). Here are some of the best:

Most of the Chinese tourists in Tibet were wearing these cowboy hats

The dough blew up

Yaaaaaaak

The view from our campsite at sunrise

Taking the Train in China

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Sun, 10 Oct 2010 14:13:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 19th, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

China is a big country. I mean like, U.S. big. In S.E. Asia we were able to pop all over the country on relatively short bus trips, but doing that in China would be like expecting to take a quick bus from Vermont to Illinois. Not to mention the U.S. has a really great highway system, something China does not. So how can we make it all over the place within the 30 days allowed by our (very expensive) Chinese visa? Trains. We’re currently on our way from Luoyang (some 8 hours South-ish from Beijing) to Chengdu in the South West part of China on a 24-hour train.

There are 6 classes of tickets on Chinese trains: standing room, hard seat, soft seat, hard sleeper, soft sleeper, and deluxe soft sleeper. We really spent a lot of hand wringing over trying to decide which to choose, so for those of you trying to make an informed choice, allow me to inform you.

The standing room seats are oversold, and those standing will be standing in the aisle ways of the hard seat cars. After a cursory investigation, there don’t seem to be overhead compartments or the like in which you can store your baggage. If you’re going to overnight in these cars, expect to watch your bags all night.

The next class is soft seat. The seats look moderately comfortable, and they’re not as packed together as the hard seats. These are probably pretty good for a day trip. If you’re going to overnight, though, I’d really recommend the hard sleeper. It’s only marginally more expensive than the soft seats, and you get a little bed to sleep in, so it’s much nicer.

Our Hard Sleeper compartment

Within the hard sleeper class, there are 3 different ticket prices. These correspond to the heights of the beds. The cots on the top are the cheapest, followed by the middle ones and then the bottom ones. In the bottom beds, you’ll have plenty of room to sit up and access to a small table, but be warned that everyone in your little 6-bed compartment will use them as a community couch during the day. There are small tables and seats accessible to everyone in the car along the windows, so you’ll have somewhere to eat no matter which level bed you choose. There’s not enough room to sit up in the middle beds, really not making them worth the extra price over the top-level sleepers unless for some reason climbing up about 8 feet isn’t doable for you. The real benefit of the top sleepers though is that most people can’t or won’t reach your stuff, meaning you can keep your purse and electronics out of the reach of most other people on the train.

The hard sleepers aren't hard. They're very comfortable.

The soft sleepers don’t really look all that much softer than the hard sleepers. Both beds are cots with minimal padding, but the soft sleepers tend to be 4 beds to a compartment rather than 6, are wider, have softer pillows, and sometimes have a door to block out the noise. The deluxe sleepers have 2 beds per compartment. Also, although there are outlets in the hard sleeper cars, they never seem to be turned on. The outlets in the soft sleepers seem to work. But, we walked over from the hard sleeper to the soft sleeper to plug in our computer and no one seemed to notice or care.

Plenty of space to look out the window

There is also free boiled water on the train and a good-sized thermos in each compartment to store it in. After our first couple rides, we realized the best thing to do is bring a reused glass jar or a thermos to make tea in. That way, you don’t have to bring or pay for a ton of over-priced bottled water. Also, there are food and snacks available, but we opted to bring our own since nothing is vegetarian. I heard other people complaining that the food was bad, but I don’t really have an opinion on that. It looked acceptable to me.

Hot Cupping

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 04:29:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 19th, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

We finally found a cheap massage option in China. Our couchsurfing host in Luoyang (who goes by the name Love Lush) took us to a little Chinese medicinal massage place where you can get an hour long full body massage by a well trained masseuse for just 25rmb ($3.50 US). So far all we had found were tourist-targeted foot massages for 100rmb ($14.25 US), which vary widely in quality.

In China, massage is not just a form of relaxation, but also a form of medicine. You can tell the masseuse what problem you’re having, and they know just where to rub. Lush told us about a friend of his who had been experiencing a major traffic jam down in brown town (if ya know what I mean). This person visited the medicinal massage parlor and two hours later the floodgates opened. (I know I switched up the metaphor, but are you still following?)

One interesting massage practice involves using hot suction cups. They take a round glass jar and hold a flame inside to heat it up. Then they press it against your back and the difference in air pressure creates a strong suction seal. There are two methods. In the first one they hold the hot cup against different places all over your body and the next day you are covered in bright purple polka dots. I went for the other option in which they slide the cups along your back. This method is supposed to feel a lot nicer and it doesn’t leave you looking like a ladybug.

My back afterwards

Why do they stick hot suction cups all over your back? The idea is that you have cold water or “cold wind” in your body and the cups suck it out and help to regulate your natural temperature or balance or something. Or it may be a way to break up and circulate lactic acid. I’m not really sure, but it was very relaxing and definitely worth the try for 10rmb (about $1.25).

The Shaolin Temple

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 04:19:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 19th, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

They say that once you leave Shaolin, you can never return. But these days they’ve relaxed the rules and you can come and go as you please for 100 rmb.

The birthplace of Kung Fu and once home to an elite group of warrior monks, the Shaolin Temple is now a major tourist draw and training center for the martial arts movie stars of the future. I didn’t go there expecting to see austere monks silently practicing their moves on a rocky outcropping overlooking a misty mountain range, so I wasn’t disappointed. (Still… it would have been cool.)

Maybe I was a little foolhardy to challenge the protector

The misty mountains and the (recently rebuilt) ancient temple were there, but all the martial arts were being practiced by preteens in athletic uniforms and the monks were mostly interested in selling esoteric medicine.

We caught this workout session on our way out

The unexpected highlight, however, was the hiking trail high up on Song Shan. It was too foggy to capture on our point-and-click camera, but the misty limestone cliffs were the perfect image of the Chinese countryside that I’ve always had in my mind.

Gettin’ Back into Squattin’ Shape

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Fri, 08 Oct 2010 06:08:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 15th, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

As I was positioning myself over a disgusting squat toilet in an outdoor mall here in Luoyang (WARNING: I am going to talk about pooping in this blog!), I realized how out of shape I was. Back in Cambodia, squatting over a dirty hole in the ground was just another part of my day, like brushing my teeth or saying no to the little girl thrusting fried tarantulas into my face. But today I actually thought twice before entering the stall.

For some reason, the Chinese squatters feel dirtier to me, which is saying a lot when you’re comparing them to SE Asia. Then I realized what it was. Whenever I opened the door of a tiny wooden shack at a Lao bus stop, I expected to find something filthy. But the Chinese bathrooms are fairly modern facilities with porcelain, locking stall doors, and toilets that actually flush (rather than a little bucket/mosquito farm with a plastic scoop). These bathrooms actually could be clean, but they still smell like a tire fire in a sewer drain full of untreated human waste next to an open-air slaughterhouse.

I’m now recalling that 7-11 squatter in Thailand with a fond longing.

Little Mao Big Square

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Thu, 07 Oct 2010 13:07:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 13th, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

Everyone says that the portrait of Mao in Beijing is huge, but it actually isn’t that impressive. It is, in fact, so unimpressive that we didn’t even feel like taking the obligatory picture in front of it.

The Supreme Universal Gate of Brotherhoodly Happiness or something like that.

Tiananmen Square, on the other hand, is really really big. It’s full of enormous monolithic communist edifices that I thought were cold and scary. The highlight of our first night there was when we found a guy playing the erhu in a dark little corner.

The next day (after a learning experience at Beiing West station) we went back to Tiananmen Square to shoot some music videos. When I was playing “NYC” I started to gather a crowd, but then when I was almost finished with the song a cop came and told everyone to move along. I guess they have a “no gathering” policy at Tiananmen.

So we moved on a couple hundred yards and then set up again to record “Quantumly Entangled.” When I started the song, the police started to set up a perimeter around me. One cop pulled up on his golf cart so I gave him a smile and a nod. I kept playing the whole time, but I was getting a little nervous. Then they pulled up a patty wagon and started having a conference. Finally, they backed off a little and I finished the song. I'll upload the video eventually, but right now it's telling me it will take 441 minutes.

I’m still a free man for now, but I’m watching my back. The secret police could be watching me right now…

Flying (and selling) a kite at Tiananmen

The Real Great Wall

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Thu, 07 Oct 2010 12:49:00 +0000

This blog was actually written on September 14, 2010 but we can only upload it now thanks to Chinese censorship. For more info, see The Great Firewall.

The other day we went to see a section of the Great Wall of China. For the most part, the wall has fallen into disrepair, but the tourist industry got a hold of more than a few sections and restored them. There is a plethora of walls to choose from, ranging from highly touristed and full of hawkers to broken down and requiring camping gear and 2 or 3 days to hike. We chose Mutainyu, which isn’t too difficult to hike or too far from Beijing, but also not too full of hawkers. It’s pimped out with 2 gondolas and a toboggan, but we ignored those and took the stairs.

Once we got up to the wall, we were rewarded with beautiful views and thousands more stair steps. After slowly making our way to the top at one end of the section, we decided it would be less grueling to just jog up and down the stairs rather than walk them. This worked pretty well… while we were at the wall anyway. We were able to see more of the wall before we had to head back, and it felt pretty exhilarating to run up and down such a historic landmark. The next day though, we could barely move. It’s now 3 days later, and my quads still hurt. It was worth it though.

Me jogging down the stairs

The Great Firewall

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Thu, 07 Oct 2010 12:23:00 +0000

The Chinese government sucks and I'm glad to be rid of them. Free Tibet!!! It feels good to be able to say that out loud. (Which I did as soon as I crossed the friendship bridge.)

A big part of their suckery involves censoring the internet, which meant that while we were in China we couldn't access Facebook, YouTube, Picasa, and most importantly Blogger. So while we were in China we wrote blogs on our computer and now we are going to upload them.

As internet availability here in Nepal allows, we will try to get up to date as soon as possible. We are going to go in chronological order, so if we write new blogs they will also be delayed until everything is up. Check the top of each blog for the actual date.

Sorry if we crowd your inbox or RSS feed, but China made us do it.

That's No Bull. Wait... Yes it is!

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Mon, 06 Sep 2010 17:05:00 +0000

Hong Kong is an island city, and not all of the islands are crazy-full of human inhabitants, so Kyle and I took a train and bus to Lan Tau island for a hike yesterday. It was absolutely beautiful.

View of Lan Tau from our hiking trail

While hiking, we encountered a bull on the trail. At first we were really nervous, since bull behavior isn't really our area of expertise, and let's face it, a bull can do some serious damage to a person if it wants to. But just as we were about to turn tail and hustle outta there, the bull saw some yummy grass off the trail and meandered off into the woods. Phew.

Or so we thought. Later on, we encountered another bull (I wish people didn't just let their bulls roam around, but this was fairly common in S.E. Asia and it probably will be in India too). This bull was headed straight for us, and at a pretty good clip. It didn't look like it was angry or anything, but we still turned and ran as fast we could anyway, until we found ourselves a nice high rock to perch on. We sat there and watched as the bull rambled past, vowing to find out the best thing to do in a bull encounter when we got to the internet.

View of bull passing us from our perch

Well, having arrived at the internet, I couldn't really find any good information about what to do. Our CS host's brother told us to just walk right by it no problem, but other people report having been chased out of fields by bulls baring their horns aggressively. I guess we'll just stick to our run and hide method, since it worked last time.

Lessons in Packing for Long-term Travel

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 02:08:00 +0000

As we started to prepare for the next leg of our journey (China>Nepal>India), we took another look at the most fundamental element of long-distance travel: our packs. When we first left, I posted our packing list so that anyone who was interested in the mind-numbing details of backpacking could have a reference for their own travels. As it turns out, that post was a hugely helpful reference for me. When we pulled out our packs and started to make a new list, I just pulled up that blog and used it again. We've made a few changes to our inventory which I will detail here (beware of intimidating length):

2 Backpacks; a his (Osprey Atmos 50), and a hers (Osprey Aura 50). We choose relatively small backpacks when we first left, and that proved to be one of the smartest choices we made. While other people were lugging around backpacks almost as tall as they were, we were keeping it spry with our little 50 liters. Neither of us have ever filled it completely. Like the old travel adage goes, "Take half the stuff, twice the money that you think you need." Sage advice.

The next big consideration is always clothing. We're trying to maximize use while minimizing volume. This is where we made the most changes from our old list. I learned that while a cotton sundress that can be worn different 16 ways sounds good, it can be really culturally inappropriate. Kyle learned that he can find more shorts on the road if he needs them. Another big change we made is the addition of compression stuff-sacks. Last time we used mesh-lingerie bags, which worked just fine for the amount of clothing we needed for a tropical climate. This year, we had to bring more clothes due to more weather variation, so we added the stuff sacks to create more space in the packs. They work great.

After doing some fairly thorough research about weather patterns in the places we're going at the time of year we're going there, we settled on the following line-up:

This is everything

Christin:
3 cute but modest t-shirts
1 sweat-wicking tech tee
1 lightweight zip-up cotton hoodie
1 mid-weight zip-up fleece
1 set long underwear (these 3 cool-weather pieces are new additions)
1 super-lightweight rain coat (much more practical than the umbrellas we took last time)
2 pairs knee-length cotton capris
1 pair cargo pants with ankle ties
2 cotton bras
5 pairs of fast-drying backpacking underwear (fast-drying is key, since I often wash them by hand in guesthouse sinks)
3 pairs athletic socks
4 pairs ballerina-style socks
1 nude cami
1 bathing suit
1 sunhat
1 pair ballerina-style crocs (very useful since they go from the guesthouse shower straight to the street)
1 pair Merrell trail shoes

Kyle:
4 dark-colored t-shirts
1 sweat-wicking tech tee
1 lightweight long-sleeved shirt
1 lightweight fleece
1 set long underwear
1 lightweight raincoat
2 pairs of cargo pants (one of which easily becomes shorts)
1 pair of shorts
1 bathing suit
4 pairs of athletic socks
5 pairs of fast-drying backpacking underwear
1 pair of Merrell Sight Hemp shoes
1 pair flip-flops (for showers)

My list is quite a bit longer than Kyle's, but it still takes up less space. Ah the joys of being small.

The next big changes to our catalogue come in the technology section. Last time we opted not to take our laptop, but this time we're bringing it. It's not really necessary, but it's a huge convenience and we have the space for it. We were also generously gifted a kindle by Kyle's mom, which will save us a lot of space on books. It used to be that we carried about 2 guide books at a time (1 for the country we're in, and 1 to trade for the country we're going to) in addition to 2 or 3 reading books. We have a lot of time to read. Since we can't both read the kindle at once, we'll still have 1 extra reading book, but the other 4 books can be condensed into a small little device. Really awesome.

1 Macbook and charger
1 incase protective laptop case (thanks Mike and Julia)
1 iPod classic with protective case and charger
2 pairs ear buds
1 splitter (so we can both listen at the same time)
1 travel-sized iPod speakers (acquired in Thailand)
1 Kindle and charger
1 (new!!) camera and charger
1 Gorilla tripod
1 camera cord (for the laptop)
1 iCharge solar charger (awesome, can be used for everything but the laptop)
1 battery charger
9 rechargeable AAA batteries.

Odds and Ends:
1 notebook and pens
1 reusable shopping bag
2 raincovers for the packs
1 waterproof stuff sack (new!)
2 headlamps
1 Leatherman multi-tool (This was really useful)
1 small pocketknife
1 universal sink stopper (TAKE THIS. It's super-useful, but easy not to think of)
1 mini sewing kit
20 ft. 3 mm cord (multi-purpose clothesline)
2 s-hook carabiners
1 king-sized sheet sewn into a sleep sack (Down to 1 from 2. This makes sleeping on dirty guesthouse beds bearable. Thanks again mom)
1 sarong (which basically serves as a sheet for when we're on buses and trains)
1 box water-proof matches (last time we took 4. What were we thinking? No lighter this time either)
2 bottles water-cleaning tablets
2 travel forks
2 travel spoons
1 x-bowl (Yes, we did use this stuff. I was wondering if we would)
credit and ATM cards
passports
international driver's licenses
cash
money belts
family photos (these are great "conversation" starters. People are often curious about where we come from, and since we don't speak 20 languages, we can't always explain.)
1 daypack
2 pack towels (Don't get the ultra-soft. They don't dry as quickly and they always smell musty.)
1 wine bottle opener

Toiletries:
1 container baking soda (for shampoo. Works really well!)
1 bottle apple cider vinegar (for conditioner. Works even better!)
1 bottle body lotion
1 bottle homemade mosquito repellent
1 bottle facial moisturizer
1 bottle facial cleanser
1 bar of soap
1 tube of toothpaste
2 toothbrushes
1 thing of floss
1 set contact lenses and cleaner
back-up pair of glasses (learned this one the hard way)
1 pair nail clippers
1 pair of tweezers
1 keeper
10 tubes Burt's bees chapstick (we're loyal)
1 bottle of non-toxic sunscreen
4 month supply of birth control
1 wide-toothed comb
1 bag hair accessories (ties, clips, bobby pins, u-pin, headband)
1 small bag of earrings and a necklace
1 battery-powered beard trimmer

First-aid kit:
1 thermometer (very useful for determining severity of inevitable food poisoning)
1 tube neosporin
assorted bad-aids
anti-malaria meds
anti-biotics (for above-mentioned inevitable food poisoning. Literally a life-saver if you're in a rural area)
anti-diarrheal tablets
anti-histamine tablets
Pepto Bismol tablets
ibuprofen tablets
1 ace bandage

Music package:
1 7/8 sized classical guitar and soft case
picks
1 mini digital recorder
extra packs of nylon strings (much more durable than steel, especially on the beach)
1 capo
1 slide
1 pitch pipe
15 CDs (for sale!)

Still no jeans.

See? You can see our heads. Trust me, that's impressive.

Gettin' my Qi Flowed

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Sat, 04 Sep 2010 02:27:00 +0000

Our current couch surfing host, Sean, is a real nice guy, and he is also a trained practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine. I had told him about the chronic pain in my right wrist (insert lame masturbation joke here), and when we started asking a bunch of questions about acupuncture he offered to give me a quick session.

First he asked me a few questions and examined my wrist. He would squeeze different spots and ask, "Does this hurt?" Once he found the right spots, he got the needles out. It didn't hurt when he stuck them in, in fact I barely felt it at all. But then he started twisting and wiggling them and I immediately felt my qi flowing.

When he tweaked the needles I could really feel it.

Qi (like the "chee" in "cheese") feels like a weak electric current. The coolest thing is that you can really feel it flowing from one needle to the other. At first it's really strong. It hurts and it makes you squirm. Towards the end of the 20 minute session, though, I started to get used to it and it felt oddly good. My wrist feels a bit better today, but Sean said it would take about three months of continued treatment for the treatment to have its full effect.

The qi was flowing from the wrist needle to the hand needle

According to Sean, acupuncture works like this: since your body views the needles as foreign objects, they stimulate your natural immune response. Either way, I'm convinced and I've already found an acupuncturist in Columbus, Ohio who accepts most major insurance.

Fugu

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 13:40:00 +0000

Well, we're about to start getting back into the blog business as we're taking off for a new run through China>Nepal>India on Wednesday. We had a couple of things we wanted to check off the list before we left Japan, and last weekend we finally got around to eating fugu, or blowfish.

Fugu was made famous in the U.S. when Homer Simpson ate a piece of improperly prepared fugu and was then given 24 hours to live.

The Simpsons 211

This bit of Americana is rooted in truth, as fugu contains a poison called petrodotoxin in it's organs, and if it's prepared incorrectly, it's lethal. There is no known antidote. A victim of such poisoning will become slowly paralyzed and will die of asphyxiation within 24 hours unless put on respiratory support. Luckily, there is a strict licensing process for chefs who prepare fugu, and although deaths used to be common, now they're very rare.

Why eat fugu then you may ask? Well, it's considered a delicacy, and it's really delicious. Thanks to all the licensing procedures, it's statistically much safer than eating cheap factory farm eggs. Just sayin'.

Fugu skin in some kind of gelatin-like substance, served with red miso. Really tasty.

I can't really remember what this was. I think it was some kind of savory fugu "cake"

Fugu Sashimi

Fugu Tempura

Fugu nabe, later the remaining broth was made into fugu risotto.

Our My Map

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Sun, 18 Jul 2010 14:05:00 +0000

We've been working on an interactive map of our travels using Google maps. It shows the exact route we've taken across Asia so far, including all the different forms of transportation. If you click on the various icons, you can see some pictures and read a short description of the places we've visited. You can also follow our trip from start to finish by clicking on the title links in the left sidebar (once you've clicked through to the extended map that is). This is the easiest way to look at all the pictures and get a continuous story.

We will continue to update the map as we travel through China and India (as internet connectivity allows), just in case you guys wanna keep tabs on our exact location. I really love maps, so I think this is the coolest thing in the entire world.

Here it is:

View Have You Had Your Rice Today? in a larger map

This is only the middle stage of our travels (the Cambodia-Vietnam leg). Since there are so many lines and icons, Google breaks the map up into sections so it will load faster. Unfortunately this also means you can't see our entire trip at once. Hopefully they will fix this soon.

The map will also appear on the left panel of the blog screen with all the rest of our goodies so you guys can always keep yourselves abreast.

I Almost Ran a Girl Over (Part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Kyle) — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 02:42:00 +0000

So the other night I hit a girl on a bike with my car. Don't worry! She was ok. There was some damage to her bike and little dent in my car, but no one was hurt. Praise be to Allah, Buddha, Krishna, Jesus, and George Washington for that.

Actually, technically she hit me. But technically it was my fault. Let me explain. It was dark and I was pulling out of a side street to turn left onto a main road. (In Japan a left turn is like a right turn in the US.) On my left side there was a fence and a line of tall trees and on the other side of the trees was a small sidewalk that ran along the main road. Because of the trees, I couldn't see the sidewalk until I had already pulled out, which meant that I didn't see the girl riding her bike towards me. When I pulled out into the street, she slammed into the front left side of my car.

It was really scary. At first I thought I had run over a child. When I got out I saw that the high-school-aged girl was pretty shaken up but she was ok. We both apologized. A small group of women gathered around the scene from the nearby temple, gave the girl a phone to call her mom, and chattered in Japanese. At this point I was a little nervous because I had no idea what the women were saying about me, but they didn't seem hostile. I tried to give the girl my info and offered to pay to fix her bike, but she didn't speak much English and my Japanese is woefully inadequate. Her mom then arrived, called the police, started taking pictures of my license plate and then tried multiple times to explain the situation to me in Japanese. I finally got a hold of Christin who called Yoko Kamo who called Mr. Horiguchi.

The police arrived and everything got even more confusing. Christin arrived, then Yoko Kamo, and eventually Mr. Horiguchi. At some point the police decided they weren't concerned about the accident anymore and the main line of inquiry became the validity of my driver's license and international driver's permit (IDP). They also asked Christin for her license. It was all really surreal because I was still pretty shaken up by the fact that I had just almost killed a girl and their top priority was the dates on all my paperwork. Eventually they determined that Christin was OK to drive for the night but that I wasn't and we went home.

The next day the police called Mr. Horiguchi and told him that both of our IDPs were no longer valid because we had been in Japan for over a year. They're still valid in the United States and almost every other country in the world, but not Japan. So now we have to get a Japanese driver's license if we want to keep driving for the next month and a half. I'll get back to that in a minute, but first, what about the girl I hit?

It seems that in Japan, if you hit someone with your car, you have to buy them cookies or some other small gift. So I went to a confectionery and bought a small chocolate cake for the girl and her mother. Everybody likes chocolate cake, right? I showed it to Mr. Horiguchi and his face immediately soured.

"How much did you spend?"

"About 600 yen."

"It is not enough, des ne. I think you need 2000 to 3000 yen." Then he wisely added, "When in Rome, do as the Roman do."

So I bought some cookies for 1900 yen and I also threw in a jar of Krema peanut butter to add that unique gaijin touch. I met the woman and Mr. Horiguchi at the bike shop this morning and they assured me that I just need to pay to fix the front wheel and then we'll be square. I presented her with my gift and then she went into the back of her car and pulled out two giant bouquets of fresh cut flowers, one for me and one for Mr. Horiguchi.

I really don't get it. It's like, "Sorry I hit your daughter with my car. Here's some cookies." "Sorry I had to inconvenience you by asking you to pay for something that you're legally and morally obligated to pay for. Here's some flowers." This is my general take on Japanese culture.

Anyway, now I have to take the Japanese driver's test, which like everything else here is needlessly complicated and full of arbitrary protocol that must be memorized. If I fail my first attempt then I'll go to driver's school and try again. It takes most foreigners between 2 and 10 times to pass it, but according to the lady at the driving school Americans are faster.

That's about it for now, but I'll let you know how the test goes.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Reflections on our 2nd Tanabata

noreply@blogger.com (Christin) — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 14:55:00 +0000

It's been a year since our first time going to a matsuri, or festival, in Japan. Last year we went to the Tanabata matsuri, and we were amazed by tako yaki, fish on stick, hundreds of girls in yukatas, and a taiko group. Well, it's come full circle because this year we weren't just savvy about the festival food (having been to several matsuri in the meantime), but I actually wore my very own yukata to the festival and Kyle performed with a taiko group. It's pretty amazing to think about how much our outlook on Japan has changed. We're no longer in awe of the mix between tradition and modernity, now we take it all in stride. That's a huge part of what makes Japan so unique, but after more than a year, it's hard to imagine Japan any other way.

Kyle in his taiko uniform and me in my yukata

Scallops... delicious

The taiko performance

Kyle is the second one from the right
To find out more about Kyle's taiko experience, go here

Me, Khris, and the real Sailor Moon