Real News Sites

Hong Kong will be in the news a lot this week as the World Trade Organization talks are taking place there as are all the associated protests and police actions to prevent protest. Over the course of this last year, I have discussed numerous happenings personally and in the destinations that Eric and I have been lucky enough to visit. I thought it'd be good to post a couple of links that I use regularly to stay up to date on the news and happenings in some of our favorite places.

Hong Kong

The Economist's Monthly Briefing on Hong Kong (The Economist has surprisingly great list of monthly city and coutry briefings as well as travel guides.)
http://www.economist.com/cities/briefing.cfm?city_id=HK&CFID=69130412&CFTOKEN=34fb4c5-b16c8a1c-3b24-4d37-a11e-8e09de7eb0be

The South China Morning Post
http://www.scmp.com

US News

The New York Times
http://www.nytimes.com

The Kansas City Star
http://www.kansascity.com

The Topeka Capital Journal (Eric still follows the Topeka press (Eric still follows this (especially their weddings and births. Once a Kansas boy, always a Kansas boy.)
http://www.cjonline.com

Frosty Morning Bike Ride

I am back in Kansas City currently and Eric is to return shortly. On Thursday we were hit with a heavy snow storm that has made the task of getting around without a car more difficult than I thought. Luckily, I have some really great friends that have offered rides without guilt thus far.

As I sat as Starbucks, enjoying the serenity of the scene and sipping away the frustration that could have built from waking at the absurdly early time of 4 am, I was surprised by another early morning adventurer. There amongst the 8 inches of snow that was quickly being piled into 8 foot piles by the Plaza's snow removal crews was a bundled man on a mountain bike. At first glance, he appeared only an odd commuter, but then he did a seemingly unexpected thing. He took dead aim at one of the snow piles. 20 feet, 10 feet, 5 feet and he was accelerating. With contact, Flipping Fred, as I think I shall call him, sailed over the handle bars, doing a backflip and landed safely in the snow.

I promise that my lack of sleep did not contribute to the unexpected nature of this extreme sport. Snow flipping on the Plaza at 5:45 am. Who would have guessed?

The March for Democracy

This past Sunday Eric had the opportunity to be a part of Hong Kong and China history. He along with one of our friends Sarah, took part in the democracy march. With several hundred thousand people taking to the street, the people of Hong Kong seemed to unite in a way that I have never seen. In peaceful protest, they streamed along the streets of Hong Kong’s harbor for the entire day, erupting with purpose in a way that the mainland fears.



As a special administrative region (SAR) of China, Hong Kong (like Macau and to some extent Taiwan) enjoys a unique arrangement that encourages commerce and integration with the mainland while maintaining two systems, separate government, economic policy, and other key governmental functions. It is not this that the people seem opposed to, in fact, from what I’ve seen, complete independence is not the goal. Rather, the people of Hong Kong want the right to elect their own head representative and to move towards a democratic government.

Oddly, at least in the media and press that I’ve seen, there has been little international support or discussion of this movement. America is quick to endorse Taiwan and where is the support for Hong Kong? At the march, Eric reported seeing no other foreigners (at least of different skin color) at the march, which in a city that is packed with foreigners is quite a statement. People at the march were amazed to see gweilos (white people or foreigners) marching with them in support and they loved it.



Hopefully when Eric stops for a holiday break in a few weeks he’ll have some time to write about the experience so I can post more. I can’t express how proud I am of him and Sara for going. These pictures are really moving for me in a way I would never have expected. I am sad I was not there to participate in what was an amazing statement about the power of reasoned people acting together.

Coffee and Conversations in Mumbai

It was the Monday before Thanksgiving, about 10:30 am, and Eric and I were in Mumbai (Bombay), India for the week. It was our second full day. I stopped into a local Mumbai café called Mocha to do some work while Eric is doing a media event at the nearby Oberei Hotel. We arrived on Saturday night and spent most of Sunday in exploration.

Monday in Mumbai is a busy time. Everyone is in transit, although sometimes the expected hierarchy of speed is usurped in the gridlock of city traffic. The free-for-all that is Mumbai traffic is chaos and perfection at the same time. The waiter just brought my coffee – mocha au lait. Although India is supposed to be known for their coffee, I am not impressed. The tables around me seem more concerned with the smoking machines that are available for checking out from the establishment - hookahs. The chrome detailed and are level with me as I sit. Black to grey objects sit upon foil and create the smoke which is breathed in. Whole tables share the smoking machine and conversation, casually and with little determination to finish. I think I have landed at the local college café as almost all of the patrons are younger but there are no books to be seen.

Our hotel is far outside of the city center but near the airport. The drive into downtown this morning took just at an hour and while faster than predicted adds some complexity to sightseeing. Infrastructure and public transportation in particular seems underdeveloped here. From what I’ve seen in Shanghai (not that it can be considered typical of China from what I’ve read) in comparison to Mumbai (touted as India’s financial and business center), China has a monumental jump in its efforts to enter the legion of developed countries.

I ordered breakfast, taking the waiter's suggestion to try a traditional Indian Suffi breakfast:



Vegetarian with cooked carrot and other vegetables spiced heavily and then cookedwith eggs, it was a treat. Given all the bird flu concerns, I couldn't bring myself to eat the yellow portions, but all and all, a real treat. For about two hours, I worked from Mocha with my laptop and soaked in the universal scene around me of friends enjoying a good breakfast and conversation but with a new and vibrant feeling. These were people younger than me and in many ways more dressed like "Americans" than I was. Unfortunately, I didn't engage in any conversations this day so I am left with only the memory of my eyes and the tickling of my nose as insights.

I hope to start posting more regularly now. Thanks for all the nice comments of concern from family, friends,and concerned readers. I am still having some trouble with my arm (something like shin splints of the forearm and elbow or tendonitis) but am feeling somewhat better.

Temporary Break

Sorry to all my readers but I'm having some difficulty typing due to some hand pain. I'll start publishing again as soon as I can.

A Lament

Time to change the clocks. Fall back so they say. Eric and I are mourning for the change because it means that conference calls get one hour harder to do - one hour later into our night. No changing it so I guess I won't lament too much but we can wish.

Behind the Lens - Yellow Flower

A yellow flower...


...in a beautiful setting.

Bran Adventurer: Food Court Food is Food Court Food

Total Price – AU$10 ~ US$7
Location – Juicibar (on food court), Downtown, Sydney
Juice – carrot and lemon
Food – greek salad and bean salad


Rating – 2 out of 4 Boxes

My lunch time outing to a Sydney food court locale near our downtown hotel in Sydney looked appealing to the eye but was less so to the mouth. Sydney has a plethora of healthy options for eating out (and non-healthy at all the pubs) including many juice bar-type shops. As I was dining by myself, the food court was appealing in its ease and previewing characteristics. Healthy in Sydney looked more like a U.S. healthy meal than in Hong Kong where often healthy is either a British interpretation (rocket, rocket, rocket) or involves Chinese vegetables that I am not used to. In any case, you can see my Sydney food court lunch above.

I’m trying out some new categories for my blog posts, so let me know if you like them!

Toto's Person of the Week: Cynthia

Cynthia, friend for a day.

Instant friends are not easily made, but on our trip to Bangkok we made one in Cynthia. She was on our trip to Ayutthaya and as soon as we got in the tour bus, we were entered into conversation with her. She was in Bangkok to open an Ethan Allen and made a great exploring friend. As a woman, she often had to cover her shoulders with a shawl when going into religious places but that didn't seem to affect her confident and curious way of approaching the world. Her job allows her to spend 6 months traveling in the US and abroad and 6 months at home. Her stay in Bangkok was to be approximately a month, so I imagine she has left by now.

Yellow Brick Pick of the Week: A Night at the Sydney Opera House

The Opera House's "sails" light up the night.

The Sydney Opera House has redeemed itself in all my estimation after our visit there on Thursday the 13th of October to see La Boheme. Estimated to cost around $6 million but ending up at over $100 million, the Opera House was an expensive addition to the harborÂ’s rim. But more than 30 years later, the Opera House is standing tall and trimmed with detail that makes its interior architecture andambiancee at least as spectacular as its exterior. The Opera House's design is said to have been inspired by the sails of a boat and at night that is exactly what it looks like - a boat riding the current into harbor.

Stopping by the Opera House in the early afternoon, we were able to purchase tickets for that evenings performance since it is the off-season (and even receive some reduced rates for prime seats because we were under 35). Several shows were going on, ranging from traditional theatre to comedy and of course opera. We chose to see an actual opera - La Boheme and as such were in the actual "opera house," one of at least four performance spaces that the complex has. This would be my first opera and though done in Italian with English subtitles above the stage, I would be mesmorized.

What do you wear to the opera? In Sydney the opera remains a high class affair and if Eric and I had thought about it in advance we would have brought better clothes. Still our khakis and dress shirts allowed us to pass through the concrete halls and glass-arched skyline views with little shame. From the looks of it, this was a largely Sydney audience and they were dressed in suits, some nearing black tie.


Concrete can be beautiful. A wall on the outside of the auditorium, this photo probably captured a fifteen foot area.

We arrived by taxi about 30 minutes before the show and after stopping of at the gift shop walked the long thin stairs of ascent. At night, the detail of the interior really shone through as what during the day looked to be just concrete wall now was illuminated with deco-esc exploding rays of interpretative sunshine. The audience by in large arrived early and many were deep into cocktail time which spilled from the crimson lined floor of the interior to large concrete balconies back towards the city.


A hurried shot of our row, done on the sly before much of the audience had come inside.

The auditorium itself was like mostBroadwayy theatres I've been in, likely seating around a thousand and fairly steep in its run from floor to ceiling. Our seats were in the exact center of row N, giving us a nice view of the stage but still requiring a slight upward tilt of my head in order to read the subtitles above the stage. Orange cushions sat firmly in auditorium chairs of sleek white plastic, reminding me of a building called Nunemaker on the KU campus. Just because the chairs were plastic did not mean that they were not expensive, and we found them surprisingly comfortable. The acoustics fed the audience the sweet song of Italian in a consistent and addictive fashion. Muted English words sparingly captured the content of the words but failed to portray the passion of the situation in their translation. Long periods of song would pass with only a one line translation like, “Love is poetry,” making me want to learn Italian so I can truly understand the play. Still, there is something universal about a love story and about song.

This particular version of La Boheme had been adapted to a more modern setting, something like the 1960s in the US. It is a very simple and yet very interesting story. Many of its plots were adapted for Moulin Rouge, and I think to good effect. The cast of the production were a quality crew, and theportrayalsyls made me swoon with mood. The set was innovative in particular and brought together many scenes and worlds through the actual lowering and raising of the entire stage. There was a the random 30 seconds of break dancing that was thrown into the middle of the second act that was a bit out of place but definitely interesting.


The lounge at intermission. Through the windows in the background you should be able to see the harbor but that didn't come through too well.

The intermission was an unexpected enjoyment. Exiting our seats and the auditorium, we walked up and then down towards the bay to a bar area, but the real surprise was that down one additional level was an outside terrace with view of the Harbor Bridge. A slight breeze picked us up where the coffee I purchased failed to. Large leather couches were arranged appealingly throughout the many levels although we didnÂ’t have time to become comfortable.


The view as we left.

Young and old were in attendance reflecting truly an all ages experience that I have not seen in live theatre in quite some time. Respect and amazement for the surroundings were evident in the mood and though many tried to capture photos, ushers scolded. Still people took photos. None of mine turned out that great, but I hope that in my words you can tell what a wonderful experience this was. A night at the opera. A night in Sydney. A fairy tale evening.

Australia: Climbing the Sydney Harbor Bridge

The Sydney Harbor Bridge at night from near the Opera House.

Wednesday, October 12 against my better judgment Eric and I took on the Sydney Harbor Bridge. Since 1998, Sydney has offered foot tours of the bridge not at transit level but along the top of the girders. The Bridge has phenomenal views of the Sydney Opera House and the downtown skyline. Completed in the early 1930s, the Bridge was a monstrosity that must have seemed entirely out of place when completed. Our guide indicated that the next tallest thing on the Sydney skyline wasnÂ’t completed until the 1970s. Like so many great monuments of the world, the Depression offered a chance for the government of Sydney to make a huge public investment and provide all the associated employment. Although forecast to only have a lifespan of about 70 years (which would have put it out of commission a couple of years ago), the Sydney Harbor Bridge is still very operational. Its eight lanes of traffic and train tracks bring thousands of commuters into and out of downtown every day.


The BridgeClimb Headquarters in the arched road leading to the actual bridge.

BridgeClimb takes you on a 3.5 hour adventure that I would heartily recommend. They are an extremely professional organization and were so incredibly organized that I felt safe even at the height of the bridge (35 stories up).





It all starts with a wall of famous people that have completed the climb. Will Smith, the Olson Twins, and Nicole Kidman are but a few of the names and photos that grace the wall. Combine this with the five minute video overview of what to expect, and somehow my anxiety started to decrease. By the time that we actually left the headquarters and began our climb, we were so tooled and harnessed that we were hard to recognize, layered in protection and with things hanging from all points on our body. My glasses had to be clipped onto my suit. We each received a hankie that could be worn on the wrist with elastic. A parka was clipped in bag on the right and a fleece jacket on the left. Our headphones for hearing the guide clipped on back and up over our head. Miner-like hats hung from our neck. A fleece cap hung from our back end.


The view from the top looking back towards the downtown.

Summers bring twenty-four hiking with groups of twelve departing every ten minutes. In the winter and spring, day and early evening tours are the norms. On this particular night ours was the last, starting at 5:15. This was a dusk to night tour.


The bridge from the Rocks, and showing roughly the entire length of the bridge that we traversed.

Climbing up and down through lanes of traffic was the most harrowing part of the experience. Walking on top of the arches was no problem in comparison. For it was on the straight up and straight downs that you were for a minute alone on the bridge and also the closest that you would get to traffic. Somehow climbing from ground level to a height of 35 stories made the top seem less scary than if I were to get out of the elevator to such a view. I was very nervous before the climb and nearly backed out but what a fun experience.


Us with the Opera House in the background.

Sea gulls danced in and out of the BridgeÂ’s lights, circling for bugs and reminding us of the closeness of the sea. Girders beamed with rivets and cross-hatched reinforcements engineered not to protect steams of hikers but that have weathered them well. I wish I had a photo of the impressive clips that they used to allow us to be free and yet always tethered to the Bridge as they were a marvel in engineering. So simple and yet incredibly effective, they would flip over the security line as we walked, rarely causing us anything but slight annoyance and giving security that was needed.

This was a great experience for us and one that many from around the world and Australia are still taking. Our group was a mix of Brits, a Thai, us, three Ozzies, and two Germans.


The official postcard provides a good view of the climb route.

A couple of other interesting things. Because of the active lanes of traffic below, all climbers are required to go through a metal detector and can't take cameras of their own up to the top, or change, or anything. All the photos of us from the top were taken by our guide who attached a digital camera to a little tripod at a couple of points along the way to allow for a steady pic. The guides and staff of this company were just amazing and it was perhaps the most polished tourist experience I've been on. Entrepreneurs around the world would do well to study this organization as a case study in tourism.

Postcard: Lady on Repulse Bay Beach

Back from Sydney but Still Processing

It's now been about 3 days since we returned from Sydney and we've been busy catching up. I have tons of Australia stuff to post and will try to do so over the coming week or so. It was a great time, and we only wish we could have seen more of the area. Still, we were lucky to be in Sydney and are inspired now for future adventures to New Zealand and the Great Barrier Reef area.


Eric and I paused on a rock overlooking the Sydney Opera House.

Nuts about Nuts and Beef Jerky

I still get nervous going through passport control when entering a country. There is something about the way that they look you over and judge you instantly that just makes my stomach curl up and want to hide. In Hong Kong, they non-invasively scan your body temperature as you go through passport control to check for signs of fever and any associated communicable illnesses. The U.S. has been getting increasingly stringent in its controls, but I have to say that Australia’s seemed the tightest that I can remember. Every bag was inspected on entry by an X-ray, their entry card asked two pages of in-depth questions, and an army of inspectors probed in-person.

What are they concerned about, you might ask? Bird flu is on all minds, hence questions about contact with fowl. Questions on farm animals and another few questions had the feeling of mad cow concern. For instance, the written survey probed on soil that might be on your shoes from tramping on farms. But then there seemed to be an odd emphasis on beef jerky. Individual signs warned of its illegality, the workers probed on it, and rubbish bins abounded for the easy disposal sin stigma. I was chastised slightly for bringing in Pistachio nuts in my carry on, but mostly because I forgot that I had them until I was in line and had filled out my card. They announced my naughtiness publicly and made me sweat just a tad, but it didn’t help that Eric kept telling me that I was going to be taken to jail.

Countries are increasingly operating like cells of the body, attempting to grow connections and allow interaction at the same time that we build barriers of protection. It’s hard to recognize what should stay in or out. From our travels, there seems only slight consistency across countries in this regard. I actually take some solace in this uniqueness, because if things were standardized, there is little hope that they would be standardized perfectly. At least this way, one of the systems of protection is likely to work well and we can learn from that.

A First Time for Both of Us

Today we took the red eye between HK and Sydney. It wasn’t until the airport that I realized that this would be the first time for both Eric and me to visit the Southern Hemisphere. It is hard to believe that with all of Eric’s traveling he has never crossed that line – been near everywhere else in the north. So, this trip has some real excitement to it. Many times when I go somewhere new, like Thailand, Eric has already been, so some of the newness and awe is muted.


The View from Our Hotel

We arrived at the Sydney airport about 2 hours late this Monday morning, so Eric missed the first part of his meetings. If the first day was any indication, we’ve found the city in cool spring time, clear and crisp with confidence and vitality. The airport was smaller than we were expecting but clean. It seemed older than I would have expected with the Olympics having been here in the last decade. After a twenty minute taxi ride, we were at the hotel and got settled into our downtown place for four days.

The business district is a mix of old and new. It actually seemed oddly reminiscent of Wichita, Kansas, to me in its architecture and pristine but oddly vacant feel. There are some tall buildings but not super tall and they may be sitting next to an older sandstone four-story building. Nothing seems crowded and few things seem that new, but everything seems clean. I think perhaps the stores in Sydney’s downtown are a bit more upscale than Wichita’s, but this is but another example in my mind of how similar and how different the world can be.


"Wichita" Sydney

Australia seems an early rise, early to tackle kind of city. As I came back to the hotel from a coffee shop having done some work myself, things were picking up on the street at 5pm with traffic and the downtown shops were closing. Again, a very Wichita thing. The people on the street were quick in their movements, but didn’t seem overly hurried or stressed. There were a few, but the rush was different than Tokyo or HK walking, and I got the sense that the pace of life here was more about putting in the effort to get the exercise. The escalators that I saw today were not used for standing by ANYONE that I saw but were all walked up. It was impressive. Indeed, it seems to me that the Australians that I have seen in HK and around the world aren’t that far from the norm of Sydney. They have tended to be athletic, X-Games types. The fashions in Sydney are definitely more hip than backpacker-esc but that did shift in the two different parts of the city that I was in today.

Hello, Welcome

Salutations and greetings. Konichiwa and bonjour. Aloha and kisses. OK...maybe they don't say hi that much, but the workers of Starbucks are drinking a bit too much of their own stuff. I walk into a Starbucks at least once a day, typically in need of some caffeine myself and am immediately met with a chorus of "Hello..welcome"s that is just as effective as the coffee at waking me. At first, it was a bit much, but now, I really enjoy and look forward to my daily hello and welcomes. I knew that I had reached Starbucks heaven when one barista began to remember my order. Bless him. It's the little things that make you feel like home.

USA, USA, USA!

We have visitors this week. Eric's dad and step-mom are using our place for a jumping off place on adventures in HK. This morning, the weather having cleared up, I took them on a hike up from our apartment through the zoo and Hong Kong Park.

Pat, Eric's Dad's wife, is much more direct and outgoing than I ever could be and I can't help but share a story from this morning. Pat is additionally an absolute kid nut. Loves, loves, loves them. Well, as we were touring the zoo, several different school groups were coming through. Two-by-two, teacher at head, and some form of matching clothing item in common. Some had hats, others backpacks, and others uniforms. They were so cute!

I've always been afraid to take photos of the kids as I just think it is funny for random guys to take pictures of kids who are not theirs these days. Pat tackled my hesitancy quickly and with great success. She jumped in and asked the teacher if she could take a photo and with approval ended up with all the kids waving at her for a photo. What was really funny though, was that Pat's random initial reaction was to get the kids to say something for the photo. What popped into her mind?

"USA, USA, USA!"

That's right, we are now embassadors for the USA. We've got kids chanting for the US over here in HK. I can't stop laughing about this. This sounds totally like something I'd do on accident, not even realizing it. I have this bad habit of slowing down my speech when I think someone hasn't understood my English. In reality, most of the time it's that I mumble rather than language barriers.

Happy Foot

Sometimes I have experiences that I enjoy so much that I am hesitant to describe or dissect, but here it goes...Happy Foot. Today was a rough day. Got to bed about 1:30 last night woke up at 5. We're super busy getting ready for company, a trip, and I wanted to finish some work things before the end of the day. But enought about that...

Let's just say, after typing for about 12 hours today and finishing up two long documents, I was ready for Happy Foot. Hong Kong has developed a wonderful obsession with foot massage which is so perfectly matched to the environment, I can hardly believe it. For US$22, you can get an hour long foot massage (which includes the calves, knees, and shoulders). Although not private, the experience is superbly relaxing and with little invasion of "private space."

Tonight was my third time going to Happy Foot. The first time I only tipped US$3 and felt stingy. The second time I tipped US$8 and felt too generous. On my visit tonight, I think this was confirmed. I arrived to find a large group of expat ladies exiting. It was a circus. After a few minutes of waiting I reached the counter and was told to wait a few more minutes. But, before I knew it, my previous foot masseur (or happy footist?) came from no where and had claimed me. I was so surprised as I don't know that I've ever actually noticing a tip "paying off."

Laying back in the big comfy chair, it's actually hard not to laugh sometimes, but not because of the sensative touch to the foot, but rather the people. People getting massages have such funny expressions. There will be business men in full suit, pants rolled up, just zonked and relaxing. I saw this especially at lunch time. But tonight, my amusement came from a man in his thirties. Tall and lanky, I looked over to see him seemingly passed out and cuddling two foot dolls. Yes, this grown man was coddling these life-size foot display figures like a little teddy bear. I lay back and closed my eyes only to hear a song that brought back memories - Celine Dion "My Life Will Go On." Now how can I stay quiet and restful with all of these influences?

It's a strange and pampered world we live in sometimes. Thank you, Eric, for working up the courage to get us to Happy Foot. It's a real island of relaxation in this up and down city.

Soft and Fat

Soft and fat. Descriptors I don't think our most recent visitor was expecting to hear from her fortune teller. Rich and handsome are two adjectives that come to mind as being more classic. But hey, soft and fat her man is supposed to be.

Fortune telling, the spirits, the ancestors around us, and luck are all a part of the traditions and culture of Hong Kong. With a mix of the Chinese traditions, splash of the Western, and unique creations of their own, it seems almost every week brings a new opportunity for exposure. And then there are the stand-bys, fortunetellers and the horoscopes.

I've had my fortune told once now at a local temple -– Man Ho -– by a gentleman that was very kind and used a combination of numerology and other methods I didnÂ’t quite understand to make a prediction that I know already has not come true. I am still holding out hope though that my inability to accurately depict my current situation of living and working explains this failure.

Lara, who stayed with us a few days about a month ago, decided to have her fortune read on what I like to call Fortune Teller Alley. It's an area of the Temple Street Night Market that opens for business about 8pm. The whole market runs for approximately a mile and is a block wide, but on one particular block, all of the fortune tellers have taken up shop. There was little tarot and more hand, face, and numerology readings. If you ask me, they were all pretty shady.



Lara's particular teller was a man in his forties to fifties. He was nice enough but seemed only to know a few key words of English that he kept repeating over and over either to stretch time out or to add emphasis. Perhaps the strangest thing about his booth though, was his oddly purposeless side kick. I assumed he was a passing customer when we first entered, but when Lara came to an agreed upon price and commenced the reading, he stood transfixed to the left of the teller, mouth half open, and just a little too close to me for my comfort. He was nice enough, but strange people that hang around and listen to our futures donÂ’t make me comfortable. I never thought IÂ’d see a cluster of fortune tellers, but weÂ’ve got one here in good old HK.

I get my daily dose of prediction and advice from the South China Morning Post. It carries both western horoscopes and similar Chinese predictions based off of the year you were born. What I just notice for the first time today is that the person that actually supplies the Chinese horoscopes appears to be a Catholic priest. I canÂ’t say for sure, but his picture appeared in the paper right next to them and he was wearing a traditional priestly collar and black outfit.

My Cup Boileth Over

Tonight I met a couple of friends for "hot pot." Similar to shabu shabu (Japanese), this is a type of eating that interestingly enough isn't that far away from the Sirloin Stockade of my youth.

I think it works best to work from outside in as I describe the environment. Picture it. A large pot that holds probably 3 gallons of water. Divided in the middle (or two pots - not sure), garlic, ginger, and other flavoring herbs fill its steaming walls. One side is spicy, the other more mild. Directly orbiting of this pot is an enormous lazy susan. It along could hold approximately 10 good sized serving bowls. In roughly Neptune position, our plates sat small and bowl sat dwarfed. And lastly, the "Plutos," our group sat around the perimeter of the table which had been made to fit 10, but we were just 7.

Like a good buffet, hot pot involves lots of random and unique food - food that scares you slightly under normal circumstances but because it comes on a lazy susan, is ordered for the whole of the table, and is small in quantity, you try. None of the things I tried tonight will I be running out to buy in bulk at the Sam's Club anytime soon, but I must say that the steam and smells eminating from the center were enticing and the flavors of the food very fresh.

My favorite things were the fresh meets, shaved wafer thin and brought to the table on platters in little rolled up fashion. Picking your desired flesh, you used chopsticks to take it from the tray and into the boiling water. There it would slowly cook itself into a flavorful bight after about 2 minutes at which time you would pluck it from the water with a ladle and into your bowl. The meets were beef, pork, and lamb. The other items were mushrooms, tofu, tofu skin, a fungi (no one gave me a name), Chinese greens, radish, blood tofu (not my favorite), dumplings, and fish balls. In shabu shabu, rather than leaving the food in the pot to cook, you actually hold the food in the hot water. This was less work for us.

I like hot pot a lot (minus a belligerent customer that came a little too close to our table in his tantrum) but must say that now, three hours later, my stomach is going...blahhhh...bllllah....bbbllahh. I think I might need to do a little training before any marathon sessions.

My Elephant Adventure

Traveling in developing countries can be moralistically confusing sometimes. In this case, we were presented with the opportunity to ride an elephant on the last day of our visit to Thailand. We were traveling with a large tour group, and one of the stops offered optional elephant rides for an additional cost. Knowing that riding an elephant is not something that I would typically do, I decided to jump at the chance. To my surprise, only two of us out of a group larger than 30 did so - myself and a friend we made on the tour - Cynthia.

I had heard before of the plight of the elephant and was generally aware of the poor conditions reported, but since we've returned, I have seen a new story in National Geographic that really chronicles problems with elephants in Thailand specifically. I think most people would have expeted the decision whether to ride to come down to one of saftey, but in the moment and that particular situation, I was not worried about my safety. I was concerned with the elephant guide's large hook used for control and the random use of vegitation for feeding the animals along our route. The elephants of Thailand are in a difficult position. They're essentially unemployed and the only work that can be found is serving tourists like I was. So, what is worse, being the tourist that pays money to ride an elephant or just passing them by. I guess, in hindsite, the best thing that could have been done was to visit some sort of a sanctuary and offer a donation there.

In the moment, and for the moment, I was and am content with my decision. It gave me a perspective that I never would have gotten without riding. I now feel more like a friend to the elephant than I would have felt if I'd passed by and will do my best to be supportive of elephant rights in the future.

Macau - Fireworks Saturday

Two weeks ago today, Eric, Lara, and I went to Macau for the day. Part of the motivation for going to Macau was to watch a fireworks competition that started that night and continues every Saturday through this month. At the end of a day of site seeing, we sat and viewed the fireworks in the night sky.



I was really caught of guard when I looked up while crossing the street and saw a Royals shirt. Looks like they have at least a couple of fans in this part of this world.

What Color is Your Buddha?

Yellow, Pink, Green, Light Green, Orange, Blue, Purple, or Red. No fuscia, lavender, crimson, or jade. The rainbow of colors adopted by Thai Buddhists based upon the day of the week (and in one case time of day) on which an individual is born was assigned hundreds of years ago but is still taken seriously today.

Can’t remember your day of the week? You can calculate yours at:

http://pregnancy.about.com/cs/boyorgirl/l/bldayofweek.htm

The specific assignments are:

Monday Yellow
Tuesday Pink
Wednesday (day) Green
Wednesday (night) Light Green
Thursday Orange
Friday Blue
Saturday Purple
Sunday Red



The king of Thailand was born on Monday and the country shows this by having yellow flags near palaces, on billboards, and most impressively on the King Rama IX Bridge. As a close cousin to Boston’s new Big Dig bridges, the King (an engineer by schooling) designed the basics of this bridge and arranged its construction as a gift to the Thai people on his 72nd birthday. Apparently, every 12th birthday in Buddhism is a special celebration (guessing this is tied to the celestial resetting of the calendar) and the King thought this a great manifestation of his thanks. The bridge has bright yellow cables and sashes. We caught them from a striking water view we had on our final day in Bangkok and driving over the bridge the day before.


The Queen. Her birthday was celebrated during the month before we were traveling.

Eric is green; I’m yellow (in good company); the queen’s is blue. What’s yours?

Saturday’s Private Tour

The floating market

Venturing outside of Bangkok gets slightly more difficult for the self-guided, particularly just over a weekend trip. So, with a 6am wake up call and quick breakfast, we were off in our large but comfortable Toyota van with driver and our tour guide, Wendy.


The view from James Bond's seat

We drove for an hour south of the city before coming to the launching point for our floating market tour. Exiting our vehicle, we took what would be our second of three forms of transportation for the morning, the “James Bond boat.” Apparently since Gold Finger was filmed in Thailand in the 1960’s, one of the traditional Thai boats has become known for its use in the film, at least according to our tour guide. Whatever the name, the boat could fly and gave us perhaps our biggest AH! WE’RE IN THAILAND moment of the weekend. Scooting down the water at about 40 miles an hour for minutes on end, we shot deeply into the wilderness of Thailand. Every few minutes we would have to slow to a near halt and make a turn, as the canals were tight and all the corners hard ninety-degree angles. Eric took some great video from this portion of the trip, but I am not sure how to post it here, so if you’d like to see e-mail me.


You can see the steam in the air.



After a few minutes of what seemed solo boating, we began to fall in line with other boats and it was evident that we, along with half of the tourists in Bangkok, were approaching the floating market. Although touristy now, the floating market in Thailand has a long tradition coming from the days when local farmers and villagers would meet in the morning on their boats to exchange their goods and enjoy freshly made meals. The market that we found had remaining hints of quaint practicality but was beginning to boil over with a shrink-wrapped tourism. Our treasure purchases ended up to be food purchases rather than trinkets. The boats inched along full of people, as temporary lanes of traffic emerged and sellers peddled their goods – all this with the surreal feeling of doing it all while floating. I still have an occasional craving for our first and best purchase – coconut pancakes. Yum, yum, and yeow! These small sweet pancakes came served in a banana leaf and had a hint of coconut milk. The other food we enjoyed was purchased for us by our guide – a pomelo – a fruit, similar to the grapefruit in its tartness but slightly sweeter and also plumper and firmer in its composition. The segments we had came wrapped, clean, and easy to devour.


Cooking from above


The tourist merchandise was set up on the side of the canals for easy pointing and purchase.

Returning from the floating market, our tour made a stop at a handcraft market. Apparently as more and more of the local crafts have become subjugated by factory produced items, someone came up with the idea of bringing local craftsman together in one working location where people could view the traditional production processes and also purchase goods. Although it felt a little forced, we were fascinated to see some of the wood carving action. Many of the pieces were made from teak wood (large murals that took between half a year and a year for two men to complete) and impressively massive chairs made from entire stumps and roots of local trees. We only purchased a couple of small coconut bowls but there was a wide variety of ready to ship handicrafts that were tempting.


The detail on these carvings was amazing.


A big chair


Temple of Ramma IV

Our last stop for the day with the guide was at the Temple of Ramma IV. It plays host to the tallest chedi in Thailand and may have been my favorite of the temples that we saw. I don’t know what it was about it, perhaps it was just having a really good guide with us that could explain everything, but it was fascinating. The bell-like shape on the horizon was just the beginning of its splendor. Inside the chedi that was visible was another older chedi, completely encased but still standing. There was a functioning Buddhist school on site and the most complete selection of the different Buddha poses that are meaningful for the Thais that I saw. Our guide gave a really good explanation that I think I will expand up for my next post.


A close-up of the chedi.


The open-air school room at the temple.

From there, it was back to Bangkok, a long drive with good traffic, and a really long drive on the day we went. It was interesting though to see great fields of salt being harvested for export and also some small manufacturing plants. It was also nice to have the time to ask our guide all of our accumulated questions from the previous day.

Thailand – Friday PM

The chedis at Wat Pho

To recap our Friday AM adventures in Bangkok – slow waking, walk through city, tuk tuk ride, Royal Temple, Golden Buddha, and our first reclining Buddha.

On finishing our hour solo tour through the Royal Temple, we found our tuk tuk and driver waiting in the shade. While a nice gesture, we should have been suspicious at that point, as our driver obviously saw us as an opportunity for profit. We zigged, we zagged, and many minutes later, completely disoriented, we emerged from the back streets of Bangkok at a run-down boat landing. Our request to go to the Grand Palace had been partially fulfilled, as the final destination of the boat was the Palace but only after a couple hour canal tour.

As we scrambled to figure out this non-guide book adventure, we ended up in a situational alliance with two German women that found themselves in the same position that we were. Fortunately and unfortunately for us, the women had several more weeks travel experience in Thailand and were ready for a resolution to their plans. They quickly took charge of negotiations with the slightly shady boat entrepreneur, and soon we set sail on a boat together and with some understanding of at least where we were headed. And thus, the canal tour began.

Our German friends had spent the prior month traveling all through Thailand. One was a teacher and the other worked for Berlitz, a company that teaches languages to business persons. In their mid and early thirties, they were fun companions who were making the most of their adventures. Eric and I sat to the side of the boat and they sat in the middle facing forward. Our canal tour boat was long and semi-squat by comparison to other boats that we would take in future days in Thailand. Our driver was a Thai man who sat towards the back of the boat, elevated by cushions as he steered us through the wide river that headed south out of Bangkok toward the canals that jut off in every direction and create a series of house-lined streets of water.

From the river, we could see many of Bangkok’s elite hotels but also the remnants of Bangkok’s pre-Asian financial crisis boom. Enormous skyscrapers sat incomplete, outlined only by concrete pillars as if children’s coloring book pages that were never filled in properly. I had heard and read about the impacts of the crash, but here I was starting to see a reality so influenced by the bad policies of many years prior. From unfinished buildings to an elevated subway system expansion line that was finding use more as a trellis than as a weight-bearing structure. If Bangkok continues to recover, these blemishes could soon be erased but hopefully the lessons they signify not forgotten.



The tour took us by our first “floating market” about 30 minutes in, although this was really just a single floating souvenir shop. One of the highlights of the tour was to be a stop at the Snake Market, but it was too much for us. We disembarked to look around but were met with a very sketchy zoo/circus-like environment that was not appealing. We could see a man fully wrapped with a boa snake but were frightened off by the very poor conditions that the animals appeared to be in. In particular, there was a dog that appeared to be so sick as not to stand up and thus was soiling itself. It was a troubling sight, yet, for all the problems of the city, there was so much joy and positive action that it’s hard to think that the Thais aren’t making progress.


A passing boat on the canal.


A few second later.

The boat tour ended up lasting closer to 2 hours but dropped us at the promised destination of the streets near the Grand Palace and Wat Pho – a set of temples with the big reclining Buddha and the national Thai massage school. After some confusion in finding the entrance to Wat Pho (a scene that confirmed an underlying practice of using decoy people on the street to confuse tourists thoroughly and drive them towards paid tours), we set about exploring the site which dates back to the 16th century. It’s enormous chedis are ornately decorated with painted tile and other forms and it plays host to the largest reclining Buddha in Thailand.


Wat Pho chedis


The largest reclining Buddha in Thailand. The bumps in the foreground are toes.

The Grand Palace also held the Emerald Buddha, which seemed to hold more religious significance for visitors than the reclining Buddha. It is this Buddha that the king ceremoniously changes the dressing (yes, the statues have actual robes) on seasonally in large national ceremonies. We saw this ceremonial robe changing occurring at other locations in Thailand, also not by monks (or royalty) as young men in t-shirts were called upon for the act.


The Emerald Buddha is inside this building.

I must note the dress customs at the Grand Palace. Many Buddhists places of worship strictly enforce rules that require the covering of the legs and the shoulders. For us, that meant renting a pair of pull over pants. Although not stylish, at least we were provided an easy option for meeting their standards while not baking to death in the heat of the day. Many women traveling in Thailand carry a shawl to put over their shoulders if going sleeveless.




Food market.

A short walk through the food market left me feeling less than hungry in the heat of the day, and Eric wisely suggested we return to the hotel for some rest. After hailing a taxi and negotiating what we would later find out to be only about 50% more than we should have paid, we were off for a long and slow ride through the traffic jammed streets. Luckily, the Thais seemed much more willing to wait quietly in traffic. Such a jam in Hong Kong would have left us with major headaches.

We had a relaxed late afternoon, Eric taking dinner by the pool and I in the room with some rest, before leaving for Siam Center via the Sky Train – Bangkok’s monorail. Though there were a variety of cinemas and stores in this hip couple of blocks, we didn’t find much that enticed us to just enjoy the walk there and back and the eventual return to clean sheets.


A school bus.