Shenanighans

Biblical Hospitality in Jordan

2012-03-05T13:22:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, I emailed my friend Nora from DC for any tips about Jordan. I was desperate for any insight and knew she had lived there for many years as a kid. She wrote back that her parents were currently in Amman and I was welcome to stay with them if I wanted. A home base to a new country in a new region by locals? Of course I wanted to stay with them! After my 2-day journey from Nepal, I arrived in Amman and was warmly welcomed by Suhail and Leila Bisharat, who made me feel right at home and like there was honestly no other way they'd rather spend their Tuesday afternoon than to pick me up from the airport. In emails discussing flight details and our meeting, I had told Leila that I'm tall, and have fair hair and a blue backpack. Don't worry, she replied, we won't have any trouble recognizing you. Sure enough, I was the only American backpacker at the Amman airport that day.

Approaching the lowest spot on earth!

Salt deposits on the Dead Sea.

Using the resort beach mirror as a self-portrait…

For most of the next week, I was shown seemingly every major site in northern Jordan, educated about the tremendous amount of history here and fed some of the most outrageous food of my trip. We drove down to the Jordan River valley, the agricultural hotspot of the country and much of the region. We sipped tea overlooking the Dead Sea and I ran down to put my toes in! We waved at Mount Nebo where Moses saw the Holy Land and subsequently died. We cruised by the baptism site of Jesus Christ in the Jordan River, strolled through citrus groves on the Jordan river and drove throughout the endless peaks and valleys of the Old Testament. Leila told me about an expression in Jordan that really rings true- you come as a guest, we keep you as a hostage, and you leave as an ambassador. Although it's worth noting I'll be a "hostage" of the amazing Bisharat's any time!

The beautiful Sea of Galilee beyond the Golan Heights.

Mint tea and backgammon- very Middle East!

For an overnight visit, we picked up Neil, a University of Southern Maine student currently studying abroad in Amman, and headed north to Um Quays on the Syrian and Israeli border. Suhail and Leila have an olive farm in this politically sensitive area and despite the military check-points every 2 kilometers or so, it's a serene place. And an olive farm in the middle east? Pinch me! We sipped tea and strolled through the property to their vegetable patch where lettuces and cauliflowers are running wild. The land tumbles down into the Israeli border and looking north across the Yarmouk river the Golan Heights rise majestically with the green hills of Syria to the right of that. In the distance to the west you can see the Sea of Galilee and the building tops of Nazareth. I'm having trouble thinking of words to describe this place because "surreal" just doesn't do it justice.

The Bisharat's beautiful olive farm

The Hashemite Dynasty- current King Abdullah II is front and center.

And of course, we ate amazingly well. I've really enjoyed the change of pace here with huge quantities of fresh produce, olive oil, citrus, wine and other Mediterranean specialties. Favorites include falafel, Maklouba, kebabs, a pomegranate panzanella salad, olive oil drizzled on Greek yogurt with fresh pita (why have I never done this before?) and a breakfast pastry smothered in a paste of wild thyme, roasted sesame seeds, olive oil and spices. Amazingly delicious.

From Amman, I headed south to Kerak where I was further indulged by Arab hospitality. I stayed with Evyn, a friend from UCSB currently serving in the Peace Corps. We hadn't seen each other in years but she saw on Facebook that I was coming through the area and we got in touch. After getting off at the bus station, a local cop immediately picked me up and drove me straight to Evyn's house. She lives in the basement unit of a family home and when I pulled up both parents and a couple of their kids were outside. They looked at the American getting out of a cop car rather quizzically until I said, "Evyn?" and they immediately perked up and said "ahhhhhhhh yes, Ev-eeen! Come, come!" So I waited out Ev-eeen's arrival home from work in their lovely sun room over tea and chitchat.

Nassar (grillmaster extraordinaire), Leila, Suhail, Neil and our delicious dinner!

View from Kerak Castle- the Dead Sea is in the distance.

Evyn preparing our Maklouba!

Evyn and I toured the famous castle in Kerak from the Crusaders era, cooked lots of delicious food, caught up and I got to tour her workplace, The Jordanian Hashemite Fund for Human Development. Turns out there are a few dozen Peace Corps volunteers doing great work in Jordan and, randomly, one of them (hey, Maggie!) is good family friends with my aunt and cousin. In the Middle East of all places I found myself saying, "yeah, yeah, the last time I saw your Mom was at Saul's Bar Miztvah!" My cousin Saul's Bar Mitzvah is not a connection I expected to make with someone in this region, at least not outside of Israel.
I've found Jordan to be exceptionally beautiful in addition to being exceptionally friendly. An old Fodor's guide i skimmed in Amman described Jordan as "arguably the most underrated tourist destination in the world." After my first week here, I'd say I'd have to agree!

Adventures in Transportation: Nepal and Qatar

2012-02-26T09:15:00.003-08:00

I'm in Jordan, and it's amazing, but getting here from Nepal was a 2 day epic journey. I started the commute from a small village about 3 hours by bus from an airport where I'd catch a domestic flight to Kathmandu. Catching the early morning bus was the easy part but after only about an hour, it broke down. We all filed off when it became obvious it was more than just a glitch and we as passengers would need to make other arrangements. There seemed to be a lot of festivities going on that I couldn't quite figure out- locals were carrying trays of offerings around town, sugarcane was stacked up and being sold in big bundles on the side of the road, and people seemed to generally be greeting each other in the back-slapping holiday kind of way.

Turns out February 20th is Goddess Shiva's birthday and a big deal in Nepal. In addition to using that sugarcane to make loud noises on the street (apparently by slapping it on the ground) and eating lots of treats and salted lassi's (yogurt shakes), Shiva's birthday is also marked by smoking a lot of weed. All of this was made clear to me by a nice lady who also told me if I wanted to catch my flight, I'd need to hitchhike the rest of the way. So I stuck my thumb out and hoped for the best.

Pim's transmission was a little worse for the wear...

Nepali drivers are very friendly and curious and a packed car pulled over after just a couple minutes. I got up to the window and was immediately hit by a wave of marijuana smoke. Three guys were in the car and all of them looked like they'd already been celebrating for many hours. While a ride through mountain roads in a hotbox would undoubtedly make a great travel story, I decided I valued my life too much to risk it and politely declined their offer. Fortunately just a couple minutes later, a guy named Pim pulled over and said he could take me directly to the airport. His transmission was a little worse for wear but he did not appear to be under the influence of anything and off we went.

An hour later I was at the airport and grateful for Pim's kindness. I had told him about fist bumping for some reason so we tapped knuckles before he drove off. And then I got on a 12-seat airplane to fly 45 minutes to Kathmandu. Wow! It was amazing. Airports round those parts are built into mountain sides so runways literally end in cliff drops which is and exhilarating/terrifying concept when the engines rev up and the pilot hits the gas. The only unsettling thing was that the plane said AIR TANZANIA across the side, which seemed to introduce more questions than answers. My inner dialogue during take-off went something like this: [engine roar] omgomgomgomgOMGOMGOMG [wheels up, cliff drop] AAAHHHHHH..... hahaha! HAHA! I couldn't stop laughing, I was giddy from the view! I did wonder, though, if any second-hand pot smoke influenced my elation. 45 minutes later we landed in Kathmandu where I had my first multi-hour layover of this section of transit.

View from the back of my plane

Watching the passenger plane become a cargo plane once we made it to Kathmandu

Sadly this was the best I could do with my point and shoot.

There is absolutely nothing interesting to report from this 7 hour segment of time.

I flew Qatar Airways to Jordan which meant connecting through Doha in the Gulf. There were a few interesting things about the flight in addition to the fact that they served lamb curry and free wine for dinner and that I was able to watch the Mildred Pierce HBO miniseries on my personal screen. First, the seats were ergonomic and second, Nepal sends a lot of men to the Gulf to work construction jobs so the plane was a really fascinating mix of tourists, Saudi businessmen and Nepali construction workers. I can't say I've ever seen that while flying Jetblue. The approach into Doha is unique because there's nothing but burning oil refineries, bright stars and darkness. We finally landed and I was surprised to see that even at 3am, the airport was seriously bustling.

Arab soap dishes, tea mugs and piggy banks.

Qatar shirts are available in all shapes and sizes

10 kilos of Nutella!

I checked out the terminal and found a corner of reclining chairs where I passed out for a few hours. I woke up craving caffeine and managed to find a coffee shop but despite looking around and through at least a half dozen duty free stores, there didn't appear to be any food other than a knock-off bistro-ish place, a TCBY, and an A&W franchise all clumped together in the corner. Unexpected, to say the least. I ended up going back to the coffee shop for a wrap of some kind where conveniently you could pay in 6 different currencies, including dollars. I spent the next 7 hours wandering and people watching and reading and contemplating how anyone could possible consume the 10 kilo jug of Nutella available in duty free.

Doha Airport

TCBY and A&W... weird.

Thankfully my connecting flight to Amman finally arrived and, after 36 hours on the road, I uneventfully made it to the next region of my travels where I'm being spoiled rotten by Arab hospitality!

Not Just Trekking in Nepal

2012-02-19T04:01:00.000-08:00

There's plenty to do here, particularly if you like being outside, adventure sports and wild animals. Before heading over to Annapurna, I spent some time touring temples in Kathmandu and visiting Chitwan National Park, famous for their elephant, rhino and tiger populations. Kathmandu is a dusty, bustling metropolis where the power is out for most of the day and smoking ghats line the riverbanks. I was struck by the Chinese influence on my first few days. In a way that's hard to describe, you can tell you're bordering both India and China. Ironically, when I was hot off the plane I was swarmed by touts and drivers at the airport, all of whom assured me "this isn't aggressive like India" or "don't worry, we don't scam!". I took the bus into town.

City Square in Kathmandu

In addition to some UNESCO World Heritage Sites, Kathmandu has a thriving tourist district, museums and more North Face knock-off stores than I have ever seen. I indulged, of course- it's cold here! Honestly I wasn't thrilled with the city. I didn't arrive at my healthiest and quickly developed a bit of a chest cold so I moved on after only a few days. I'd actually read online to skip a long stay in Kathmandu if you planned on trekking, because the pollution makes many tourists sick. So add my voice to that suggestion if you ever come this way!

There's a whole lot of Nepal going on here- a mix of new hotels and old guesthouses, and cute kids playing football in the shadow of beautiful mountains.

From Kathmandu I took the bus to Chitwan National Park, where jackets are not required during the day! The park is beautiful and heavily guarded. I was strolling through some trails in the adjacent village and got stopped by a machine-gun armed soldier enquiring about my "country of residence." Afterwards I learned that poaching is a real problem in Chitwan, hence the abundance of Nepali soldiers on high alert. In the jungle you can ride elephants, take canoe rides on the river, and admire rhinos, rare breeds of crocodiles and (supposedly) tigers in the wild. The rhinos were abundant and so amazingly pre-historic looking. I saw one from the back of an elephant and one wild on a jungle walk organized by my guesthouse. Want some advice, for if you are ever chased by an angry rhino? "Climb a tree," our guide told us. Ok, good to know.

Working Momma elephant and baby, Chitwan National Park

Sunset in Chitwan

The elephant ride was also pretty cool, it was a super misty morning so I got some neat pictures, and posed for at least ten different photos with a Chinese and South Korean tour group (I will miss you, Asia). The elephants had platforms on their backs that 4 people could sit on. I was led to what was essentially the line for singles (just like on ski lifts!) and clamored on with a nice Aussie guy and a local couple. I chatted with the Nepali guy for a bit about my impressions of his country, his impressions of my president and his visit in 1998 to Universal Studios Hollywood. In other words, what I usually talk about with locals in Asia! He mentioned that he was an actor so it was especially cool. When we were getting off he got "recognized" and the next thing I knew, dozens of locals were flocking to have their picture taken with him. I'm still not sure who he is, but a guy from my guesthouse was incredulous that I got to ride an elephant with him.

Rhinos! So cool.

And then since the trek, I've bummed around in a city called Pokhara and the surrounding smaller villages. Pokhara kind of reminds me of Lake Tahoe- it's a tourist enclave and centered around a lake, although I didn't see any gambling. The main street is packed with laundry facilities, travel agents, gift shops and pizza places. It's a nice place to hang out for awhile and rent a rowboat, go paragliding, watch Europeans take pony rides and enjoy a happy hour or two with fellow travelers. I got a little antsy, though, and have moved around a bit in the last few days. I'm now a couple hours north by bus and staying in a lovely little room by a river. The downside is the intermittent power outages which means I've been a horribly unreliable Skype date and have no choice but to take cold buckets showers by the light of my headlamp. Awesome!

Pokhara

A giant, heaping plate of Dal Baht, the Nepali national dish.

Tomorrow I make a rather giant leap and fly to Jordan, where I'm really excited to see Petra, meet up with friends and enjoy an entirely new change of pace. My time in Nepal has been restful and beautiful, but largely solitary and at a slow pace. I'm excited to mix it up a bit in the Middle East, and indulge in olives, cheese and wine! I'm leaving Nepal (and Asia proper) with the same mix of excitement and nostalgia that I've left most every region on this trip. Until the next time zone!

At the Mercy of Mother Nature in Nepal

2012-02-14T22:20:00.000-08:00

Annapurna 1 and 2, as viewed from the SW

Namaste! I've spent the last two weeks trekking the Annapurna Sanctuary Trail in Nepal. The scenery was unsurprisingly beautiful and the trek was amazing, and likely my last time totally off the grid on part 1 of this journey. But it's February, you've probably heard, which means dead of winter which in the Himalayas means icy trails, blustery winds and, ultimately, turning back from our goal destination because of my favorite weather phenomenon- thundersnow!

Just after dawn in the Himilayas...

I joined 3 Polish folks for the trek so there were 4 hikers plus a guide and porter for the Polish group. It just about killed me over some of the steep passes but I'm fiercely proud of carrying my own bag. One of the most interesting things about trekking in Nepal is that, in general, you start at a very low elevation- our trail began at less than 2,000 feet. As you gain altitude, you'll traverse lush green river valleys into Rhododendron forests with tightly closed flower buds as desperate for Spring as I am, and finally into the arid atmosphere above 10,000 feet where the cold winds are sobering.

Lots of ups and downs on the trail, we'd cross a river and gorge just to climb back up.

The hike was actually quite social- every couple of hours we would walk through villages where we could stop for tea, buy a Tibetan handicraft shawl or a $2 Snickers bar (mark-ups are insane on the trail!) or just refill our water bottles and take a load off. The scenery was spectacular, of course, but the little villages also had plenty of their own charm. Donkeys, mules and ponies wearing colorful knitted headgear and lugging garlic, potatoes, kerosene tanks and beer and coke bottles are frequently lunching in town squares. Groups of women shelling peas and stringing Nepali prayer flags greet you with "Namaste!". And, little ones with wind-chapped cheeks will giggle at you from behind their mothers' shawls. It's a feast for the eyes.

Tadapani, a typical Himilayan village

We started in the southwest corner of the Annapurna Sanctuary trail, which included a couple passes at about 12,000 feet and "Poon Hill" which is about 10,000 feet. By virtue of trekking for multiple days, carrying my own stuff and purifying my own water, I felt kind of hard-core about the whole experience. But on this part of the trail, when our clothes were still relatively clean and our legs relatively steady, we met some dudes who were completing the entire 20-22 day trail which is considered significantly more difficult than Everest and which requires a couple nights in a tent above 15,000 feet- in February! My group was duly humbled meeting these guys while sipping our hot chocolate and complaining about the thin air at 8,000 feet. There are some serious mountaineers in Nepal; I am not one of them.

Rosy-cheeked, shattered and enjoying some moonshine one evening with Durga, our guide, and Pavo the Pol.

One of my favorite characters from the trail was an old Swiss guy with a giant beard who had first greeted me with a "Namaste, sweetheart!" as he was skipping down an incline and I was wheezing up. On the tortuous day of decision where thundersnow was crashing and winds were howling and we were lamenting about powering through or turning back, he showed up at our tea house like a mirage through the snow. He took a tea and chapati break with a group of about ten of us and said that the weather and trail conditions only got worse up the way, and that he had turned back because he didn't bring much of his ice gear. Then he complained about the "idiot tourists" who were unprepared and "didn't even have ice axes!" and everyone laughed. I laughed too but belatedly because, for the first and likely last time in my life, I was thinking- am I the only one here without an ice ax?? When he went on his way, and we had all decided to turn back from the base camp, everyone else confirmed they didn't bring ice axes either and I felt much better about the situation.

This was about half-way up a steep incline and made me laugh out loud.

We stayed in Tea Houses which were described as "very basic" to me before the trip. "Very basic" means a mattress pad on a wooden frame covered in a sheet and bathrooms downstairs shared by about 20-30 people. Not the best, but not the worst I've seen either. Hot showers were difficult to come by this time of year but we managed to get a few. No one, though, was operating under peak hygiene. But the food was surprisingly tasty, lots of Dahl Baht, which is a huge plate of rice served with lentil soup and some form of vegetables, most often curried. Most Nepalis eat this twice a day- it's spicy, filling and satisfying. Western food was also available- pastas, rice and noodles and sometimes pizza would make an appearance. We didn't starve.

A team of donkeys carry stones behind my teahouse on my last afternoon in the mountains. Not a bad place to write haikus about a sleeping bag...

The routine on the trail was pretty standard- we usually got up early (it's impossible to do otherwise in a rural village) and hit the trail between 7 and 8 after a big breakfast. We'd hike through the morning and sometimes into the afternoon but mostly would arrive at our next destination for the day in time for a late lunch. This made for some looooong afternoons on the trail. At first you're chatting with your trail mates, exploring the villages and sipping hot coco in the kitchen with the local women. But by the end of the 2 weeks, I felt myself slowly going mad. Without books, Internet or other people (the Pols and the porter left 4 days early and I went solo with our guide), I spent some tortuous afternoons sitting around watching donkeys walk up and down the trail, chickens wander and generally make a mess of things, and even resorted to writing haiku's about my sleeping bag in my journal (oh my sleeping bag/you are so warm and cozy/but I want to stretch). Did you think I was kidding?

Traffic jam on our last morning finally heading back to civilization.

All in all, the trek was an amazing experience, and one I hope to replicate again at some point in my life. But for the next few days, if you need me I'll be at the Internet cafe and indulging in fresh produce and general urban bustle.

Punjab, Amritsar and India Wrap-up

2012-01-25T09:00:00.000-08:00

The Golden Temple at night

My last stop in India has been the state of Punjab, which borders Pakistan to the west, Kashmir to the North, and the Himalayas to the east. It's unsurprisingly chaotic, colorful and devoutly religious. I've spent most of my time in Amritsar, famous home of the Golden Temple which is arguably the greatest pilgrimage site for Sikh's in the world. The temple is simply stunning, and I think the complex rivals the Taj as the most beautiful building in India. The weather has been foggy so I skipped a sunrise visit here and came for dinner instead. There is a huge cafeteria attached to the temple that provides free food for all visitors, although donations are much appreciated. It was a wonderful experience to jostle and eat with literally thousands of Sikh's and travelers from all over the world, mostly from central Asia. The scale of the cooking was insane- dozens of people volunteer to wash dishes, 100 gallon canisters are used for peas and carrots, hundreds of volunteers (including me!) shuck barrels of garlic with their hands and football fields of space are filled with pilgrims from all over the world enjoying a good meal. It was the perfect way to end my trip to India.

Sadly, this is as close to Pakistan as I'll get on this trip.

Note the giant portrait of Gandhi on the gate behind me!

This region is also famous for the Attari-Wagah border closing ceremony. Each night, Pakistani and Indian border guards put on a show as they close the border between the two countries. I didn't know what to expect but was completely blown away by the high kicks, coordinated dancing and, most importantly, spirited chants from either side. You can also buy snacks and souvenirs like Indian flag visors and scarves so the entire place has a real carnival feel to it. As we yelled "HIN-DU-STAN!" in response to "PAK-IS-STAN" coming from the bleachers on the other side, I got homesick! I've always thought that traveling makes one all the more patriotic but please believe me when I say this was NOT the place to chant U-S-A, U-S-A! So, I proudly assumed the role of Indian national and screamed for Hindustan with the best of them.

A glimpse of Pakistan from the Indian border.

It was part Olympic games, part Superbowl and part comedy show. The India side had many more people but the Pakistani side had a man I can only describe as the country mascot, because he was wearing an outfit made of the Pakistani flag and using his drum to rally the crowd like crazy. I'm pretty sure I saw a human wave on their side, but I can't be positive. The whole things lasts about 45 minutes with all kinds of ceremony, gate opening and slamming, flag folding, kicking and stomping, and hand-shaking between the 2 countries. As if you didn't already know that India and Pakistan have a historically complicated and tenuous relationship, they've put together a hilarious spectacle to show you.

Yeah Democracy!

India Wrap-Up:
This really is a place you just need to see to believe. India defied and challenged all my expectations. At some points I felt like I was seeing the future, like when visiting a business complex that hosts international corporations and high-tech industries in Pune. At other times I felt like I was visiting the past, like anytime I went to a post office and anytime my travel plans had to change because there were cows or camels blocking the road. Mostly I'll remember the people here, the vast majority of which completely overwhelmed me with their hospitality, generosity, and love of life.

This is sometimes what India looks like from the perspective of a SWF...

The Men:
I've made some really wonderful friends here, starting with Sumeet all the way back in China who influenced so much of the first part of my trip here. In Rajasthan I bonded with the guys on my safari and have sweetly been checked up on over the last month when I hadn't updated the blog. Bus drivers have bought me tea and small-talked, guesthouse owners have invited me to share dinner with their families and countless guys have given me directions, tips, a hand, or any other bit of assistance. By and large, I was treated with a welcoming heart, respect, and good humor.

With that said, there are things I won't miss- constant badgering on the street, lecherous glances, being followed by groups of men, the unnecessary touches and brushes on public transportation, being on constant high-alert for scams, and all the stray comments, some of which you understand and some of which you don't. I've tried to follow my friend Jen's advice and assume that all indecipherable comments are "you are a beautiful woman of integrity, please go about your day." But it's not always easy.

One of my favorite images from India- women look at pictures of my nieces on my ipad before bed in Rajasthan. Rita's grandmother (center) said, "they have the same hearts as us."

The Women:
Early on in my time here, I read Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children and I've found myself actually thinking mostly about something he wrote in his updated introduction. He described Jane Austen as a "great Indian novelist" for "her portraits of brilliant women caged by the social conventions of their time." I want to be really clear that I don't think of most Indian women as "caged" or stunted in any respect. There are extremely intelligent, put-together, multi-lingual, forward-thinking women everywhere and I've been so lucky and inspired to meet a whole bunch of them. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have plenty of conversations here with women whose first priority was caring for their in-laws, women who haven't gone to school or traveled outside their state, and women who can make a mean curry, wash the laundry and sweep the yard all while nursing a child. And, women who simply CANNOT BELIEVE that I'm an unmarried, twenty-something woman traveling the world by myself. More than any country I've been to, this is where I'm stared at, by women, with baffled, incredulous expressions. It's been the biggest experience in cross-cultural communication I've ever had.

I've also felt the greatest sense of sisterhood here- starting with lovely Meghana and Amitra in Pune at the wedding, and lasting through Rita and her lovely relatives in Rajasthan, and the women who owned my guesthouse in McCloud Ganj, among all the other daily smiles, giggles and nods with women all over the place. Despite all the hard parts, India is the best kind of place to travel alone because women will speak with you if you're on your own and are generally very curious about what you're doing in their neck of the woods and, of course, what you think of their cooking.

Hitching a ride on the milkman's motorbike in Ranthambhore. Those are copper pots he uses to distribute his goods.

Transportation:

You've got to take the trains for the experience but fortunately busses are also running wild here. And a tuktuk is never far in cities of a certain size. For solo women, I'd recommend 3rd class on the trains only if you want and only on day trips. I didn't feel this way in China but I would not have felt comfortable trying to doze in 3rd class here on overnight trains. It's been cool to downright freezing during my trip so AC wasn't necessary but a 2nd class AC or non-AC ticket (the difference mostly being open windows) is perfectly comfortable for overnight. Bring a lock for your pack and shawl to hang for some privacy. And be ready to chat- it's customary to share your life story. Also for women, definitely use the women-only cars on the local trains. Look for pictures of a woman wearing a headscarf on the platforms to know where you should be standing. Final tip for the train- don't mess with the grannies, they get off first and they get on first. Don't even try.

Deluxe tourist buses run to a huge amount of destinations from Delhi and Mumbai if that's more your cup of tea. For government busses, try and sit as close to the front as you can so you can keep an eye on your pack. Usually the driver is behind a glass partition that riders can sit behind too. I did this a couple times to keep my bag close. It's louder but you get a better view and will likely make friends with a bored driver. No matter where you sit, be ready to be crammed and, if you're sitting at a window, watch for those with motion sickness in front of you...

By the numbers:
Tuktuk: 20? Honestly, I lost count.
Rickshaws: 4
Taxi: 8
Motorbike: 5
Bus: 16
Train: 11 (including locals)
Camel: 1
Canter: 3
Jeep: 7

Village tour with some local students.

Overall, I'm sad to be parting ways for the time being with this vast, insane, stunningly beautiful and mostly very welcoming place. I was concerned about traveling alone here but, save for a few isolated incidents, my fears were unwarranted. And the best parts of India- the people, the chaos, the alternate definitions for everything you thought you knew- were even greater than I let myself hope. I've spent over 6 weeks here and yet I'm leaving thinking of all the food I didn't get to try, all the books I didn't get to read, and all the places yet to see- Kashmir, Calcutta, Varanasi, the hill stations like Darjeeling and, oh yes, the entire South! I suppose the most intoxicating thing about this place is that it's completely inexhaustible and constantly changing. That's exciting, of course, but it also makes me wonder how entirely different my next visit here could be. So long, India, thank you for everything and I promise we'll meet again soon!

Great times in the Himalayas, Not So Great Times in Agra and Delhi

2012-01-24T22:08:00.000-08:00

Hi, friends. It's been awhile. Last we left off I was raving about Rajasthan and while I'll still think of it as a highlight of India, let me tell you about what happened the night of my last post. I went to a corner cafe that had been recommended to me and ordered mushroom masala and chapati for dinner. After dinner I went back to my guesthouse and pretty much went straight to sleep feeling fine. From what I remember and could piece together in the morning, I woke up a few hours later after apparently dreaming about Martina McBride's song "A Broken Wing," because I downloaded it in the middle of the night. Then I took a freezing cold shower (hot water was only available at this place a few hours a day), and used the entire bottle of body wash I had bought the day before. Then, I was apparently cold because I ripped open the duvet cover I bought in Bikaner that had been sealed for shipping with industrial packing tape. I woke up the next day woozy and with damp hair and still tried to make it to the bus stop. On the way, however, I got sick out the side of a tuktuk and asked the driver to take me back to the hotel. I spent the next 24 hours violently ill and shivering in the fetal position.

Alas, my healthy run finally hit the wall but I'd like to point out that it was a restaurant, and not street food, that finally did me in. I'm no expert on magic mushrooms but I'm pretty sure I had them, because I've never before sleep-walked, shown super-human strength, or downloaded country music (not my fav genre), let alone all in the same night. If there are any mushroom aficionados out there, please, feel free to comment.

So gorgeous.

After my drug-induced stupor I finally made it to Agra. There's not much to say about Agra except this is where the Taj Mahal is. I'm going to have to vehemently disagree with Lonely Planet that it's a "charming town" and "worth sticking around." I found very little to redeem it other than the awe-inspiring Taj. I went at sunrise and was struck by how you-are-in-India! the whole experience is. Outside of my gross budget hotel goats were sleeping and fornicating, the dirt alleyways around the complex are covered in trash and livestock feces, I paused to let a herd of camels pass on their way to work, the ticket-seller was working by candlelight and totally tried to short-change me, and afterwards as I left from the west gate, a giant herd of cows had blocked all traffic. But yes, wow, on the inside it's as magnificent as they say. I'd recommend the early visit to escape the crowds because I was able to walk through and enjoy the details without much hassle. It's worth sitting on a bench for awhile and just staring at it, too. I found it impossible to comprehend that something so exquisite could be made by man.

The Taj just after dawn.

You pay for that kind of serenity inside the gates with the pulsing crowds of touts on the outside. I also went to the 16th century Mughal Empire city of Fatehpur Sikri and found myself screaming at the jewelry vendors and fake tour guides who actually jumped into my tuktuk and refused to get out. It was then that I realized that if there is a point in India at which touts would back off and yet I don't appear as if I'm losing my mind, I haven't found it. This is not a place where a firm "no thank you" will suffice, at least not for a solo foreign female.

National Palace, Delhi

After a memorable train ride, I made it to Delhi. By this point I was eating solid foods again so I'd highly recommend Karim's in New Delhi. It's just as tasty as both the locals and your guide book will tell you. I toured the red fort and national palace, biked the old city, snacked my way through the markets and splurged on an over-priced beer at 1911, the very cool bar in the famous Imperial Hotel. I like to have a drink and use the restroom facilities of fancy hotels I can't afford to sleep in. And then I attempted to visit the Jama Masjid mosque, a sacred religious site for Muslims in India. It's customary to leave your shoes outside of pretty much every religious institution so I had mine off and was handing them to the shoe clerk when he said, "300 rupees." That's $6 and 280-290 rupees more than I've ever tipped in the dozens of religious places I've toured. I shrugged and walked towards the entrance thinking I'd just carry my shoes.

The famous Red Fort in Delhi

But then I was approached by the "official" host of the mosque who told me if I didn't leave my shoes, it would cost 300 rupees to bring my camera in. At this point he pointed to a handmade sign that said "camera... CHARGE." Meanwhile, dozens of people are flooding in around me, including tourists, and it does not appear as if anyone else is being hassled. I figured I'd call his bluff and walk in but as I turned away he grabbed my upper arm and chest attempting to stop me. I yelled and threw my arm up, he started screaming and pantomiming my shoes and without much thought other than he was scamming me because I'm a tourist, and pushing me around because I'm a woman on my own, I started yelling back pantomiming him groping me. I'm sure we made quite the spectacle. We managed to stop quite a bit of traffic, which is embarrassing, especially when you see other Westerners gaping at you, and you want to be like, "yes, you're all doing this sooo much better than me right now!". When the men with machine guns (the "volunteer police" according to the back of their uniforms) came over, I finally just stormed away, still holding my shoes and with furious tears stinging my eyes. If we don't know each other well, I can assure you I have plenty of faults. But until that moment, "a propensity to cause scenes at sacred religious sites" was not one of them. I've thought a lot about the incident since it happened and alternate between fury but also disappointment in myself- a better traveller would have seen that situation going nowhere fast and walked away before it escalated. Lesson learned.

I caught the Indian Armed Forces Honor Guard practicing their formations in Delhi.

That same afternoon I was also propositioned by two different tuktuk drivers, the guy who sold me some lunch took my head between his hands when I reached for my change, told me my chakkra was off and enquired about my latest menstrual cycle, and 2 different creeps "accidentally" touched my butt while walking on the street. So, yeah, Delhi really sucked. And while I regret not making the effort to visit new friends and give the city more time, I felt the need to move on quickly. Really quickly.

Wow- the view from my room in McCloud Ganj!

View from inside the Tibet government complex.

I went due north to Dharamasala, famous for hosting the exiled Tibetan government, including the Dalai Lama. The collection of guesthouses, yoga retreats, meditation centers, vegan cafes, and Tibetan temples, orphanages and museums is actually in a village just up the mountain called McCloud Ganj. I thought I'd spend a weekend here, not more than a week, but I liked the off-season local vibe of the place, landed a really great room and met some wonderful people so I stayed. I was planning to stay in an ashram while in India but in McCloud Ganj decided to do an "ashram lite" experience and take meditation classes in the morning, read a lot, hike up random trails into the mountains and sip tea with monks at English conversation sessions in the temple. This is what monks like to talk about, according to my field research: Americans and their knowledge of Tibet, Barack Obama, baseball and if it's similar to cricket, fast food and if I've ever been to McDonald's, and exactly how much money I've spent in each country I've been to (especially China).

Snowy McCloud Ganj from a trail above the city.

An afternoon hike with new friends, the Singh family, in Dharamasala.

I stayed long enough to develop an exaggerated familiarity with the place- I found myself saying things like, "Nice haircut Fayaz!" and "Look at baby Amman and his new winter hat!" and "Your mom is in town and cooking parantha for dinner? I'll be there by 7!". If the locals thought I was a total poser, they were at least nice about it. One of my favorite things about the city was that, to combat the cold, each night the main boulevard that led down to my guesthouse would be dotted with trash fires and surrounded by folks trying to keep warm. I'd stop at each one for a moment or two thinking it was like trick-or-treating but for blasts of heat instead of candy. The little village in the mountains was a special place for me to visit, rest and think about some things, and a stop I know I'll think back on whenever I need a little zen in my life. So while there were some lows on this leg of the journey, it certainly ended on a high! Next stop- Punjab and Amritsar!

Embracing the Unexpected in Rajasthan

2012-01-05T00:08:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year from Saffron the camel!

I've mixed it up a bit and flown by the seat of my pants for the last ten days or so in Rajasthan, the desert state west of Delhi that borders Pakistan. From Jaipur, I headed straight up to Bikaner, known for a legendary and violent warrior past. Everywhere you go there are remnants of civil wars between clashing tribes and of course thousands of years of conflict with present-day Pakistan. With this kind of history, the town is surprisingly kind of kitschy, with camel safaris advertised right and left and bangles and shawls for sale as far as the eye can see.

When it became clear my bus would be hours late and arrive in the middle of the night, I frantically flipped through my guide-book for guesthouses with free 24-hour pick-up from the bus station. Enter the "Camel Man," who had my heart when he agreed to pick me up from a potentially bad situation at 2 in the morning, and who has since influenced much of my travels through the area. By the time I finally got to sleep that night, I'd agreed to head out on a camel safari the next day. I wouldn't say the experience was enlightening but it was a lot of fun, and especially hilarious when I learned my camel's name was Saffron. I like to think we bonded over our mutual love of curry. After cruising on Saffron through the winter-chilled desert for an afternoon, myself and a nice German couple ate a delicious dinner and huddled around a campfire to listen to our cook and his kids sing and play instruments passed down through their family for many generations before sleeping under the stars. The most interesting part of the trek was that the staff was quite a microcosm of India- our guide and driver was Hindu, the cook/musician a Muslim and the camel hands were Sikhs.

Retirement Party festivities

After exploring more of busy Bikaner for a couple days, I headed to one of my most random encounters yet. On the late bus out of Jaipur a few days prior, I ended up sitting next to and chatting with a lovely teenage local, Rita. Turns out she also loves to read, her family was having a party on New Year's Eve on a farm outside of Rajaldesar village and would I like to come? Rita clarified that despite the date, it wasn't a New Year's party but actually a retirement party from the local electric board for her grandfather. Even better, I thought. Wow, this ended up being quite a retirement party. Rita graciously picked me up at the bus station on NYE and we headed 30 kilometers into the sticks. Her grandparents' farm was an impressive place- about a hundred acres of aloe, wheat and vegetable fields surrounding a collection of livestock and a few cement and stick structures. Along with plenty of cousins, we took a long walk along the perimeter, played some games and ate pomegranates off the trees.

I've found that this game works anywhere in the world

My entourage on the farm tour and the family camel, which was named "Camel"

Rita's family had rented a rather psychedelic tent for the occasion, in addition to giant colorful quilts for all of the 200 guests. The first ceremony started in front of the tent as Grandpa Raj was driven up in a jeep draped in wreaths of money and geraniums. Local officials, friends, family, strangers (me), and the local holy man who rolled up with two armed body guards (?) took turns laying more wreaths on him and wishing him congratulations for decades of service. First the men greet him, then he greeted the women who have all stood off the side. After well-wishing and singing songs, dinner is served. OMG- so good. Rita and I ate with the men in the tent but the other women were served separately outside. This brings up an interesting "woman traveller" tick I've experienced- as a foreigner I'm usually instructed to eat with the men and given permission to socially drink with them as well. But as a female, I'm also welcomed into the kitchen. It's been a huge, insightful perk of this trip to have the opportunity to do both.

With Rita's grandmother and the hostess of the evening. Please understand how under-dressed I felt.

Adorable Rita and her adorable parents

The 4 men catering seemed to effortlessly create enough deliciousness for the 200 guests without electricity, running water or cooking surfaces. "Iron Kitchen" to the extreme. Speaking of food- don't make the same novice mistake I did assuming that all Indians eat naan with their curries, veg and Dal. Outside of restaurants for tourists or urban hotels, it's all Chapati all the time. Every home-cooked meal I've been lucky enough to eat has included the heartier, denser wheat bread. One guide told me naan is thought of as "too perfect" to eat regularly. To think, the Indian take-out in DC that I sometimes went to, Naan and Beyond, steered me wrong!

The night will undoubtedly be a highlight of my trip, I was so honored to be part of the festivities. The very best part for me came at the end when all the women and children were bundled up in our sleeping structure. Of course talk turned to husbands ("no, I'm not married," I said for the millionth time), family and friends. Female gossip and chat and laughter is so universal. In the morning I bid emotional goodbyes, promised to send lots of pictures and hopped a bus.

When leaving Bikaner, the Camel Man had encouraged me to join a loosely-organized tour he'd arranged to a collection of villages to the west. The morning before, he had written the most hilarious set of instructions that I have ever received. Transcribed exactly:

Dear Emalee,

Hello! Please come to village. No problems in village.
"Directions"
Bus to Rajasdar. Do not talk to boys on bus.
Bus to Churu. Do not talk to boys on bus.
Walk out of bus station. Turn right at samosa stand. Good samosas if you are hungry. Go Rathore Lodge hotel use phone to call Ajendre at [number]. Wait hotel. When Ajendre come, call me at [number] so I know Ajendre good man like you good woman. Go with Ajendre. Thank you Emalee. I pray Lord Ganesha keep you safe and help you have more friends in our India.

Your friend,
Vijay

The trip was actually requested by the Canadian artist Allen Smutylo (http://www.allensmutylo.com/index.html) who travels to remote regions like the Northern Himalayas and Arctic for inspiration for his work. I felt bad about crashing but Allen couldn't have been more gracious about it, we hit it off and I really enjoyed spending some time meandering through the maze of backroads in the desert, playing cards with locals around a nightly campfire (it's flippin' freezing here!) and strolling through villages. Allen was particularly interested in the nomadic tribes in the area and the Haveli paintings that stretch across most of the buildings constructed in the early 18th century.

A launderer I watched for awhile whose iron was filled with hot coals. The paintings behind him are of the Haveli style.

We also stopped for five rupee cups of Chai Tea where ginger and cinnamon are crushed to order and fresh milk is foamed in whirling copper pots. And in one village, we paid a visit to a local ashram. While sitting on the cement floor and chatting with the female monks about how no drinking, drugs, modern technology or sex is allowed on the property, one of the oldest women in the room turned to me rather pointedly through her mask and said, "Do you drink beer?". I was flummoxed. Of course I think there's never an occasion to lie to a monk but in context the question was really uncomfortable. After some "uhhhhhh..." I finally settled on, "occasionally." I rationalized that since leaving boozy SE Asia, this was true. She seemed fine with that answer, Allen and Rishi our guide thought it was hilarious, and we went on our way.

Visiting with masked female monks... very interesting.

The next day, after driving extensively and touring a fort, Allen and I popped into a roof-top restaurant for an evening beer. The view was gorgeous and we had a pleasant and uneventful time until moments after returning to the street. Alleyways in India are shared by people, cars, rickshaws and animals alike and while I was looking out for a bus barreling towards me, I suddenly found myself almost lifted off the ground by a painful head-butt from a cow I was passing. It got me twice in the butt with its horns before I could stumble away and while I was laughing, it was also painful! On the drive back to our campsite, Allen pointed out that he didn't think it was an accident that I would be assaulted by a normally docile bovine minutes after drinking a beer that I swore to a devout religious official I rarely consume. In India there's religious and spiritual symbolism everywhere, especially with their beloved cows who are so sacred because Hindus believe all their Gods live in the cow, and because milk is such an important part of their diet. If a horn in the ass from a Goddess on earth isn't a sign from above, I don't know what is. I vow to never mince words with a monk again.

A boy and his tea in rural India

And now I'm back in civilization. The relative tranquility of the desert was a welcome relief but I'm also relieved to have had a hot shower and finally washed some clothes well after I ventured into a desperate laundry situation that required more creativity than I was comfortable with. And now, I'm finally heading towards the mad tourist crunch of the Taj Mahal and Delhi.

Tiger Safari Christmas

2011-12-27T01:33:00.000-08:00

Sunset in Bombay

After leaving lovely Pune, I made the journey to Mumbai and spent a few days in hyper-tourist mode running around seeing as much of the gigantic, staggering and thought-provoking city as I could. Bombay (known to the locals) is not cheap and I was lucky to stumble on a cinderblock cell with a single bed and bucket shower for $18/night. It was one of the creepiest places I've stayed, but the location was fantastic. The city itself is a physically and emotionally exhausting place. I spent a lot of time on the local trains zipping up and down the peninsula and as you watch the world go by, it takes your breath away to see the discrepancy between rich and poor. Modern fancy high-rises give way to endless slums that border the tracks where naked little kids play cricket with discarded water bottles and sticks, and women cook over burning piles of trash and cow patties. It's a place that makes you think differently about needs versus wants, and your own definition of rich and poor.

Entering the jungles of Ranthambhore...

Then I headed north to Jaipur where I caught up with a Jungle Lore safari tour. This was one of my most impulsive decisions of the trip- my friend Sumeet knows the company, knew I was headed towards the area and it turned out they had a spot for me on the next jeep. I can't recommend this company enough- it was an incredible experience and very well organized.

I am now a total convert to safaris. It was awesome to cruise around Indiana Jones style in the back of a canter (basically a giant open-topped jeep) chasing tigers. Each canter holds about 20 people and has an expert tracking guide. He and the driver look for prints, listen for alarm calls and study hunting patterns. You also rely on some luck, it's mother nature after all! I didn't anticipate the adrenaline rush that comes when actually seeing a tiger come out of the brush for the first time. We saw one for a few minutes on our first night and people were flipping out- it's surprisingly emotional and absolutely breathtaking. The guides have a cute tradition of shaking the hands of those who see one for the first time. I shook everyone's hand because I was on such a high and it seemed like a good idea.

Hello, gorgeous.

Over the next two days, we saw one more tiger and a leopard and also countless spotted deer, giant antelopes, a vast variety of birds, peacocks and peahens, crocodiles, and endless monkeys. The group also cruised Ranthambhore village which was a fascinating little place. As the 8 of us were walking around, huge groups of people would stop and stare at me. It was very obvious they don't get a lot of girls from California round these parts. Jayant, a new friend on the tour, said, "Emily, you are an alien here!". I wanted to say I've felt like an alien most everywhere I've been but just laughed. As we were heading back to our hotel, the three men on the trip requested a stop at the village liquor store and of course I joined them. We bought some Indian whiskey and Kingfisher beer and I put all the booze in my bag to smuggle back inside the hotel.

Downtown Ranthambhore

A fascinating old man who reminded me of Santa Claus

Booze run with my new friends, the rad local beer menu is on the right

And that is how I ended up hosting a Christmas party that night for a half-dozen Hindus and an Indian Catholic. Over whiskey and plates of salted radishes, guava and bell pepper slices and spiced cumin Indian fry bread, we talked about the plentiful arranged marriages in India, the caste system, Tibet, the tension between India and China, Millenials (kids today, what will we do with them?), tigers and food. I only have a couple Christmas albums on my iPad, so we listened on repeat to the very American combination of the Washington DC Gay Men's Chorus Christmas Celebration and A New Orleans Brass Band Christmas. I heard, "this music is so interesting!" more than once over the course of the evening. That night will undoubtedly be one of my more interesting and fun Christmas memories.

"Oh. Hey girl."

This is the hilarity that ensues when an Indian Treepie (the cute bird on the right side of the frame) lands on a man's hilariously huge hat.

Group shot on top of Ranthambhore fort. Really wonderful people here...

The next day on Christmas Eve we toured the hugely impressive and beautiful Ranthambhore fort. After lunch as I was leaving, the group gave me a little gift wrapped in newspaper as "a memory from my first safari." I opened up a small painting of a tiger and sat there for a moment. "It's a Christmas present!", they said. I was so touched I started to cry, really cry, for the first time in a long time. I couldn't help it, at that moment every kindness I've been shown over the months of planning and taking this trip hit me like a ton of bricks. Sometimes I've wondered how many lifetimes I'll need to pay forward the generosity I've been shown by old friends, new friends and strangers alike, and this little painting seemed to encompass all of that. Of course my blubbering and weeping was awkward. The problem with not crying very often is that once you get going, its really hard to stop. Everyone was looking at me, at each other, and back at me like, "she knows we just got this at the gift shop, right?". I'm sure what will now be known as the Tiger Painting Accidental Emotional Breakdown will be a major memory from the trip and while it was embarrassing, it was also cathartic.

Ranthambhore Fort

Overlooking the national park- breezy!

And then I headed back to Jaipur, where I've spent the last couple days on FaceTime and Skype with family and friends back home. My nieces made it home from the NICU just in time for Christmas and it was a great present to see them live for the first time. They're perfect. Jaipur, on the other hand, is a bustling, dirty town where remnants of their "pink city" past are difficult to find. The boulevards are overwhelming so I've spent most of my time cruising the alleyways of old town where camels pull carts of uncut stones and bazaars are full of clothes, street food, and produce. I've seen chili, tea, spice, kitchen supply, tire and lottery ticket vendors. I've seen women silhouetted in doorways who offer to read your palm for a price, one man barber-shops lining the open sewer, and kids who scream, "PHOTO FOR MONEY!" at you while walking down the street. Pigs, goats, mules, horses, dogs, cats, rats and monkeys sift through trash piles to the symphony of constant horn blows from buses, the occasional car, motorbikes and auto rickshaws. And even though you look down and up and out, you're still shuffled and bumped by crowds and traffic alike.

Yes, this has been a Christmas to remember. Happy New Year to you and yours!

A Monsoon Wedding Welcome to India!

2011-12-16T23:21:00.000-08:00

Meghana, the beautiful bride!

This is actually a story that starts on the Great Wall of China. Way back in August, when my trip was just getting started, I met this guy Sumeet on a bus heading towards the Great Wall. He was from India, also loved to travel, and I told him a little about my trip. He said his wife's sister was getting married in India in December and I was more than welcome to come. Originally I said 'thanks!' without thinking I could make it and without really being sure he was serious. As am American, the idea of inviting a complete stranger to a family member's wedding is practically unheard of.

As a few weeks went by and I started to think about the next leg of the trip through the winter, it seemed completely ridiculous to not take him up on the invitation. I love weddings! And an Indian wedding? Their reputation reaches far and wide. I made arrangements to make sure I was in Pune (pronounced Pune-ah) by mid-December. I am so, so glad I did. What a memory the experience turned out to be.


Blessings from the Bride's mother to the Groom's family

Rice tossing for good luck

First, the sari! Of course I had to dress authentically. I was nervous about it for a couple reasons- one, I had no idea how one would use the bathroom and two, I haven't gone out in public with my stomach showing since the Reagan Administration. But then you put one on or, rather, some generous soul "drapes" one on you. I'm not going to lie, there's something about a sari that makes you feel gorgeous. It sounds vain, but you get tired of wearing the same thing every day and having your entire beauty routine consist of soap. In a sari, you glide instead of walk and can't help but stand up straighter. I thoroughly enjoyed wearing mine and a highlight of the night was being told by a lovely elderly lady that I "wear the sari very well."

I bought mine while in Sri Lanka last week from a friend of Chitra's in Hapitule. The seamstress was a very kind local shop owner and it was really a kick to sit around over tea with a bunch of Sri Lankan ladies and chat about stitching techniques... not like I had anything to contribute to the conversation. But I needed a blouse (the crop-top underneath) and spent a frantic morning running around Pune desperate to find one. They're not as abundant as you'd think! One sales clerk suggested I roll up a t-shirt but a helpful local behind me said doing so "would give all the other women A LOT to talk about." I then found myself at a clothing market where I found a tailor who had a few lying around. Ladies-- if you ever find yourself behind a dirty sheet trying on sari blouses in India, the sizes 32, 34, 36 etc. are not your band size but actually your bust size. Please, save yourself some heartache. I finally found one that could kind of work and the tailor speedily stitched it up. Crisis averted.

The knot is tied! Happy family.

Sumeet picked me up in a motorbike (just as fun to ride in India as SE Asia!) and we went straight to the bride's house. Family chaos! I loved it, pre-wedding fun and stress and food is universal. The Rajwade family could not have welcomed me more warmly. I was folded in as a member of the fam and was incredibly touched to be part of the hustle and bustle of the day. As I was being "draped" with Amrita, Sumeet's wife, and Meghana, her sister the bride, I remarked that the whole bride-getting-ready-for-her-wedding thing was kind of a sacred ritual in the US and I was honored to be there. Amrita said, in India everything is a sacred ritual! Besides, they explained, this was the first of 3 changes for the night. And, wow, Meghana looked absolutely stunning in everything she wore.

You eat well at Indian weddings...

Indian weddings are hard to describe succinctly. Whereas I think we're more accostomed to briefer ceremonies and longer parties in the US, an Indian wedding is actually a few different ceremonies spread across an evening, a night, and a buffet dinner. Some folks come for the first part the leave after dinner, others come for dinner and the later ceremonies and... I'm pretty sure a few people just came for the food. I don't blame them, it was awesome- lots of curries, chutneys, vegetables, samosas, sweet carrot puree, rice and naan. Delicious and all vegetarian. Also, no booze so the late night carousing is kept to a minimum.

New friends at dinner. All of my gorgeous jewelry was loaned to me from the bride and her mom!

As a disclaimer, describing an "Indian wedding" is just as impossible as describing an "American wedding." Some of the ceremonies I saw are used by many Indian couples, some by just a few. Puneet, the groom, is from Northern India so the wedding was a compilation of traditions from the couples' respective regions of the country. But the vast majority of Indians do get married during the auspicious time of year determined by astrologers. I got a very comprehensive tutorial about the astrological blessings involved with getting married during a certain time of year, on a certain day, and even performing certain ceremonies at specific times. Arranged marriages are also still abundant, many of which are predicated on matching horoscopes. Puneet and Meghana are a "love marriage" (they met on a train! Cute.) but I chatted with many young and older women about their preference for their own arranged marriages. Fascinating, to say the least.

Such a gorgeous couple. I mean seriously... look at these two.

Triumphant groom!

The beautiful couple were walked through numerous rituals like circling a fire 7 times, offering gee and puffed rice to the fire, performing rhymes with their spouses' name, being wrapped in string, drinking blessed water and placing wreaths on each other to signify unity. And, poor things, they posed for more pictures than anyone I have seen in my life (and I've been to one or two political fundraisers!). Like, 3 hours worth. By the end of the night, I was struck that like every wedding I've been lucky enough to go to, this one was also about loving someone enough to like them when it's easy and especially when it's hard. It was a beautiful, spiritual night.

Family blessings

Offering Gee to the fire

I'll be sad to leave the indescribable hospitality of the Moghe and Rajwade families in Pune but am excited to spend some time in Mumbai before heading north to the deserts and tiger preserves of Rajistan. Finally, if you have a thing for travel blogs, check out my friends Danni and Cesar as they drive (!) from DC to Argentina, sleeping all the way in their Roof Top Tent (RTT): http://capitolsouthbound.com/. A very Merry Christmas to you if I don't post before then!

With Sumeet and Amitra!

With the happy couple

SRI LANKA

2011-12-16T22:48:00.000-08:00

To all of you who told me I should come here- thank you! The last twoweeks have been filled with wonderful food, sights, "cuppas" of Ceylonand people. The first thing I noticed about Sri Lanka is that peoplesmile with their whole face ("smizing" for any Tyra fans out there),and laugh with their bellies. I love it here, and I'm definitelyplanning on having a long-term relationship in my life with thisstunningly beautiful island south of India.

Sigiriya the "8th Wonder of the World," Me, Grazing Cow

Ethereal temples at Anuradhapura

My first week was a rather frantic tour of most of the historicalsights in the North of the country. I went to Anuradhapura whereBuddhism was first introduced in Sri Lanka and numerous temples andmonkey-covered ruins remain. I saw the gorgeous cave temples inDambulla (more monkeys) and the cave paintings at Sigiriya, the "8thwonder of the world." The scope of history here is really insane and aninteresting compliment to SE Asia. I then headed down through Kandy, avery pretty city centered around a lake. Here I visited the Temple ofthe Tooth, the Pinnewala Elephant Orphanage, a couple of spice gardensand saw a local dance and fire-walking performance along with 500European tourists so obviously it was really authentic!

Exterior of the Dambulla cave temples

Like everywhere I've been, I traveled mostly by local buses andtrains. Buses here are outrageously cheap and super convenient- justflag it down on the side of the road and get a running start to jumpon. My first bus out of Colombo was a riot of chaos and color andpeople selling mangos, coloring books, samosas, Dal dumplings withshrimp and ginger beer. Things get really festive when people come onand do bird calls or tambourine performances for tips. I learnedquickly that people who snag seats have a duty to hold things for thosewho stand. Over the last couple weeks, I held a bag of coconuts, 2paint cans, grocery sacks and a baby whose chivalrous father refused totake my seat. It's certainly cramped, and one 7-hour standing journeywas enough for me but my only real low-point was getting a face full ofchewing tobacco spit while hanging out the window to gape at thecoastline. To the man sitting two rows in front of me- thanks, thanks alot. Needless to say, I'm still recovering.

Even an old man can look like a little boy on a Sri Lankan train, I love this shot.

From Kandy I headed into the gorgeous Hill Country area which is knownfor their tea plantations. There's also a famous pilgrimage hike that Iwas curious to check out. The mountain is called Adam's Peak and theclimb is mostly done at night to enjoy a spiritual cleansing atsunrise. From the guide book: "Venerated by all religious faiths forover a thousand years, and named by religious communities according totheir particular faith, the mountain is 'Adam's Peak' to Mohammedansand Christians who believe the footprint on the rock at the top of themountain marks the spot where Adam landed when hurled out of Paradise.The Shaivites believe it to be that of God Shiva while the islandBuddhists believe it was the Buddha, who left the mark as a token ofhis visit."

Gorgeous early morning view from the top, framed by prayer flags.

Adam's Peak view from my guesthouse the evening before- intimidating!

The hike was one of my favorite travel memories so far. After startingout on a very empty trail at about 2am, I quickly gathered somefriendly local mutts who follow hikers up the mountain. I appreciatedtheir company so we all shared the ginger biscuits I'd brought to snackon. I completely lucked out with weather, the sky was crystal clear. I counted at least 10shooting stars during my plentiful star-viewing breaks! The sunrise waspretty spectacular, and the walk down just after dawn even morebeautiful. I've seen a lot of early mornings on this trip, and that oneranks as one of my favorites.

From Adam's Peak, I made my way down via train to the lovely littletown of Haputale. Getting off the train, people usually swarm you togive you a ride somewhere or try to get you to stay at theirguesthouse. I was targeted by one guy who assured me his place was thetop rec of Lonely Planet but I had a recommendation for anotherguesthouse so I declined. Then he offered to get me a ride on a tuktuk"for only 1500 rupees." I laughed- that's about 10 times more than across-town ride should be and a total rip-off. He said, "1000?" and Ideclined again looking at him in a way that I hope said, I am not atotal idiot. Next thing I know I have a free ride with one of hisfriends, which was fine by me. And later that afternoon, I bumped intohim in town and he invited me for a cup of tea. His name was Ali, hegrew up in Haputale and seemed to be the unofficial mayor of the place.He apologized for the tuktuk thing, saying that to some tourists, $15is nothing. This was a first for me. In every place I've been in mylife, no one has ever, ever apologized for trying to rip me off. I saidno problem, and for 3 of the next 4 days Ali and I had tea at hisfavorite "bake house" (Sri Lankan for bakery).

He's not one for photographs, that Ali...

We talked about our families, American politics, Sri Lanka's tumultuouspolitical, racial and religious history and the efforts older SriLankans were making with the young kids to impart the importance ofnational unity. Haputale was a really cool town in large part becauseof the religious diversity- there was a Mosque, Buddhist temple,Christian church and Hindu temple all along main street. It was hardlya Utopia, but I've never seen such a cohesive religious environment ina town that size. And the tea! Tea is a major life-blood of this placeand they are rightfully proud of their history. Sir Thomas Lipton gothis start in tea production in Sri Lanka, where he started theDambatenne tea factory in 1890. To give you an idea about what avisionary he was, the factory is still the biggest in Sri Lanka, with1500 pickers each picking over 50 pounds of tea leaves a day. North ofthe factory, there's a famous look-out point called Lipton's Seat highup in the hills. Friendly Canadian Brian from my guesthouse and I tooka tuktuk up there to admire the view before a factory tour. Rashid, ourdriver, was awesome and in addition to taking the tuktuk off-roading,he let us drive!

Rashid, his beloved tuktuk, and I make it to the top!

This is my "weeeeeeeee!" face

My parents took teaching my brother and I how to drive very seriously,and my Dad insisted on giving me lessons on his manual transmissionbecause it's a "valuable life skill." Who knew that those lessons wouldcome in handy so much while in a tuktuk in Sri Lanka? Thanks Dad! Wecareened down the mountain and I heard from Rashid that I not only"like driving very fast" (true) but also "drive like a man." From aconservative Sri Lankan tuktuk driver, I took this as quite acompliment. As we cruised by a primary school out on recess and managedto attract quite a bit of attention, Brian yelled "wuuu WOMEN POWER!".I wanted to fist pump or thumbs up or something but we were approachinga tight turn and "WOMAN POWER" followed by "Epic Crash" seemedcounter-intuitive. My favorite part of the drive was using the hornwhich round these parts can mean, "get the hell out of the way," "lookat the foreigner on the side of the road," "hey how's it going," and"absolutely nothing." It was awesome.

Warm, wonderful Chitra making coconut milk in her kitchen.

Final feast at Chitra's house- don't let those utensils fool you, I ate this meal with my hands!

As if there wasn't enough to love about Haputale, there was also Chitrawho ran the awesome guesthouse I stayed in. I heard about her cookingbefore I met her and knew hers was the place for me to stay for a fewdays. I not only had a lovely little room (with a giant window and hotwater- score!), I ate some of the most outrageous food of my life inher kitchen. Each of the 3 nights I stayed with her, I watched her cookdinner for a couple hours and took copious notes. Some of which werevery helpful- "like most foods, salt curries along the way but neversalt Dhal until the end (interferes with consistency)" and "never marrya man who doesn't help in the kitchen." Other tidbits might not be sohelpful back home- "only use eggplants from mama's garden" and "onlyget your knives sharpened at the Muslim market on Tuesdays." Things Iate for the first time in her kitchen include but are not limited to:fried curry leaves with chili salt, boiled curried jackfruit seeds,vegetable salads smothered in fresh-grated coconut and turmeric (shegoes through 100 grams a month!), and really authentic milk rice shapedin a heart on my last morning. Like most great cooks, she was a talkerand I could wax poetic about our conversations for plenty of blogposts. But I'll just leave it at she was a really special woman whosewarmth, hospitality and lessons in cooking and Buddhism I will neverforget.

Stunning Ella rock from mini Adam's Peak above the village

For the last few days, I've cruised through the lovely village of Ellaand down into Mathara and Mirissa, a couple of southern beach townswhere the people are friendly and the rooms are cheap (though "clean"would be an overstatement). I had to limit my time back in Colombo toone chaotic, funny day sadly and am now bound for Mumbai and headed tothe airport. Let's do this, India.

Bangkok and SE Asia Wrap-Up

2011-11-21T20:05:00.001-08:00

Greetings from my last night in Bangkok! I've been here almost 2 weeks and while I've developed a familiarity and fondness for the city, I'm anxious to hit the road again. I've been waiting on my Indian visa, which has taken longer to secure than advertised online. It's meant some flight rearranging and additional expenses but all in all, there are certainly worse places to kill time than here (although yes, this city smells remarkably like trash). Bangkok is a sultry, sexy place where the food is incredible and women are gorgeous and almost everyone has an inspiring sense of style. It's enough to make a girl currently on a 6 shirt rotation very jealous. And, most importantly, I had visitors from home! My friends from DC and California- Jen, Jason, and Jon, came here to spend the Holiday weekend and Jen's birthday after their epic family heritage tour through China.

One Night in Bangkok- drinks at the Hangover 2 Skybar

I've loved meeting all kinds of people on this journey. But especially while traveling alone, you really start to miss people who knew you yesterday, let alone for years. Jen and I have worked together, campaigned together, road-tripped together and she knew me when I had blond highlights and wore make-up and business suits. So, we go way back. Seeing her, Jason and Jon at this point in the trip was just fantastic. And, staying in a clean hotel with free breakfast (!) was a nice break from my daily grind.

Standard Bangkok- alley way with resort hotels in distance

On Thanksgiving (known amongst us as Jen's Bday!), we karaoke bowled, sampled street food, drank plenty of Chiang Beer, created a potluck dinner of selections from the mall food court and got all dressed up to have a couple drinks at a totally empty Irish pub. You know, just like the Pilgrims did! The group politely looked at every live-blog picture I have of my new nieces and even listened to my stories that were either too long-winded, embarrassing or gross to go on the blog. After a few days of wandering, eating and drinking, it was hard to say goodbye. Being on pause here for the last couple weeks has given me a chance to reflect on the trip so far. At four months in, I'd say I'm loving this even more than I thought- but when you're reminded every day of your role in the global community, you can't help but think of your role in your local community as well. For me that means really missing people I used to see every day or once a year. So, basically, it was really really wonderful to catch up with these guys...

Good People

Vietnam:

I'm still thinking about Vietnam in a way that's hard to describe. I really enjoyed being there but the highly developed tourism industry means a lot of your experiences are defined for you before you step out the door. I'm not above photo ops (I'll create a slideshow of my more ridiculous pictures at some point), but all of the posing and staging got old. I met a guy who said his tour of the Mekong Delta was "very low-resolution," which has become a new favorite expression of mine. That's not to say you need to take tours everywhere, just that it's frequently much cheaper to do so, some places aren't even open to solo travelers and at that point, I think I was still getting my feet wet with the trip. And I got cash-robbed in broad daylight in Vietnam, the only time so far on the trip, and felt the most targeted for scams as a tourist. This coupled with the troubling war tourism meant for some low points. But I also experienced plenty of my favorite memories and met many of my favorite people of SE Asia there, so it's interesting to think back on it now a couple countries removed.

Water puppet show in Hanoi

Floating Market in Halong Bay, definitely one of my favorite days.

An unstaged pic- Pho being prepared in a floating market on the Mekong Delta

Cambodia:

Cambodia was the dark horse of this region. If I had to pick a favorite country, you might be surprised to learn this is it. I was lucky, though, in that I spent some quality time here. I saw Angkor Wat and Phnom Penh but I also spent a couple weeks in the more rural regions and was really touched by all the stories I heard. Most people are very forthcoming about losing family, friends and neighbors during the Pol Pot regime. One guide told me that they don't really teach modern history in school, so families take it upon themselves to pass along an oral history of the horrific devastation that affected them all. It's physically painful to listen to, but their resilience is incredible and, frankly, taught me a lot about priorities. I also feel like I hit my stride in Cambodia- the infrastructure can be challenging but is totally manageable. This was where I first bought bus tickets to totally random places, showed up and found a place to stay and something to do. To say that was liberating would be a serious understatement.

Detail of the National Palace in Cambodia

Sweethearts

Angkor Wat

Classic Cambodia road scene- tuktuk driver, overstuffed van with passenger up top, trucks going the wrong way and motorbike banana delivery. Love it.

Thailand:

I'll come back to Thailand anytime. You can really see why this place is such a vacation-haven for the world. It's an idyllic, friendly, tasty place filled with male tourists in tank tops and female tourists in patterned mosquito pants. With that said, I struggled a bit with being a long-term traveler here. I think that was because many people you encounter are on 1 or 2 week getaways and I found myself unable to keep up with their budgets and energy level. Cheap but not totally sleazy accommodation is harder to come by here and, knowing that plenty of people come here to enjoy themselves, there's a premium on food and booze. But some things are worth paying for and I had some really great nights here out on the town and days driving motorbikes through surreal scenery. Thailand has a reputation for a reason, this is a great place to get to know SE Asia and first flirt with the bustling, intimate and friendly way of life.

Evening in Pai

That's me in a smokin' hot orange helmet

Laos:

Laos was a high point of the last four months. I know I've said most every country is friendly but the people there really are exceptionally welcoming and have gorgeous smiles. I wish I had spent more time off the Viantiane - Vang Viang - Luang Prabang track but I needed to keep moving at that point in the trip. The formal name of the country is Laos PDR and you'll hear around town that instead of People's Democratic Republic, "PDR" actually stands for Please Don't Rush. It's true- things move slower in Laos more than any other country I visited in the region. Between the relaxed pace, the delicious coffee shops and all the fun activities, I'm kind of amazed I ever left. I took a couple cooking classes here though- so hopefully I'll bring some flavors (at least their delicious chilli paste) back with me!

Me and my homegirl

Young Laos students

Tubing bar in Vang Viang

Guides:

I'll always love you, Mo

A huge part of traveling in this part of the world are the guides you meet along the way. Some are for the hour, some are for the day or more, and most of them are knowledgeable and a great way to learn more about the country you're in. My favorite guide was Mo, who I met on my trekking tour in northern Vietnam. She not only taught herself English using her kids' school books, but she also looked after 10 members of her family on a single salary while her husband traveled the country working in construction. Mo also single-handedly hauled me out of a vat of water buffalo manure, practically carried me to a waterfall and stripped me naked of horribly filthy clothes while I was violently ill. She then fashioned my poncho into a dress, sparing me complete humiliation. So, of all the people I've tipped in my life, I feel pretty good about saying she deserved it the most.

Beers:

"Fresh" beer on Cat Ba Island, Vietnam.

SE Asia has plenty of good beer, I thoroughly enjoyed sampling my way through this place. Vietnam wins for most variety- Tiger Beer, though technically from Singapore, is ubiquitous, Bia Saigon green and red labels are common, mostly in the south. Bia Ha Noi has quite a following in the north and Biere La Rue and Hue Beer in the central areas. 333 wins for cheapest canned beer but when I could get it, my favorite was the "fresh" beer because, at about 30 cents a glass, it was quite a bargain. It's rumored to be quite dangerous thanks to being unfiltered and brewed independently under suspicious conditions but I never had a problem. Chiang Beer and Singha Beer are everywhere in Thailand and usually only about $3-$4 for a big bottle in bars. Cambodia has Ankor Beer (not bad) and Anchor Beer (pretty bad), and a budding brewing scene with the new "Kingdom Brewery" in Phnom Phen. I could only get this in grocery stores and at about $2 (or 4 times the cost of other local brews), it didn't seem worth the premium cost. My favorite beer over here is Beer Lao, brewed in Laos' Capital city, Viantiane. I'd read that sometimes they do tours, so I took a motorbike out there one day while in town and despite learning "tour?" and "tasting?" in Laos, I was turned away. Actually, I was stared at so suspiciously by the front guard that I was convinced I accidentally asked for a colonoscopy instead of a tasting. So much for my feminine charms...

Bia Saigon in the Old City of Hanoi.

And now I'm taking my first flight since leaving LAX to Sri Lanka, a place that originally wasn't on my radar but I'm excited about thanks to the all the enthusiasm I've encountered on the road. I'm sure the next leg of this trip will present plenty of new challenges. Honestly, I'm excited but anxious about India. I've appreciated all the very solicited advice but "don't travel there alone as a woman" (something I've heard plenty of times in hostels along the road) is getting tiresome. But, most of this isn't meant to be easy, right? Thanks for traveling with me this far, see you in Ceylon!

Final cross of my beloved Mekong between the Thai and Laos border

Becoming an Aunt in the Golden Triangle

2011-11-18T20:16:00.001-08:00

Before I became an Auntie Em last Wednesday to baby girls Cleo and Annie, I would have said the highlight of my week was falling off an elephant. I'm in Bangkok right now and thoroughly enjoying my access to email and wifi after a couple weeks of mostly being off the grid in stunningly beautiful northern Laos and Thailand. But now that I'm in the urban metropolis of SE Asia for the week putting my next round of visas together, all that open space seems so far away. After Vang Viang, I headed up to Luang Prabang in Laos, which is a World Heritage City and a lovely place to spend a few days. The French influence in this former colony is still extreme, as evident by the abundant coffee shops and even more abundant French tourists. The courtyards, quaint alleyways, outdoor cafes and general joie de vivre seem prime for any French traveler looking for a touch of home in Asia.

Always one of my favorite sights- Buddhist Monk robes drying in the monasteries.

Grilled Mekong fish sold for about a buck at the night market.

I was really hoping to get my chance to ride an elephant at one of the sanctuaries in this neck of the woods. I found a 2-day program where the elephants are rescued from logging operations and was really thrilled with the experience. Along with 3 other friendly elephant enthusiasts, we rode the elephants bareback by ourselves, bathed them in the river, and fed them as many bananas as we could afford (of course bananas are a surcharge). Getting on an elephant bareback without any assistance is, um, tricky. People much more nimble than myself probably wouldn't have too much of a problem but I didn't exactly look graceful trying to get up myself. And that's just the beginning-- the real fun happens when you try and get off! I might have done so a little over zealously, right as my guide was taking my picture, and ended up with this horribly unflattering gem of a shot:

Please note that no injuries occurred other than the stomach cramps I get from laughing hilariously every time I look at this picture.

I have a beloved picture of my grandmother riding an elephant in the 50's, and all day I thought- I wonder if any of these pictures will be looked at fondly by any future generations? While not nearly as idyllic as my Grandma Jan's, I think it's safe to say we found the perfect shot. I got some other ones, of course, but they just don't quite measure up.

Bathing elephants- more fun than it looks!

One of the more remarkable 30 minute increments of my life.

Also in Luang Prabang, I was able to participate in a really cool volunteer project hosted by an organization called Big Brother Mouse (www.bigbrothermouse.com). My friend Julia over at Enroute Consulting (http://www.enroutegapyear.com) first told me about them over the summer. Using some of the money posted about here (how many links can I include in one paragraph?), I hosted a book party for a primary school a couple hours outside of the city. In the more rural parts of the country, you'll hear heartbreaking anecdotes of children who have never owned a book, or understand that you can read one more than once. Big Brother Mouse works to address these needs by supplying communities, schools and libraries with books written in Laos and English. It's a well-run, reputable organization and it was really, really cool to watch the young Laos staff work their magic with the kids.

All the school kids holding their books.

Epic jack-rabbit race during the games.

These girls got a particular kick out of the games.

The parties are a few hours long and include an art contest, silent reading time, a super-brief ceremony and mostly an epic school-wide game competition. One of the Big Brother Mouse staff members leads the kids in races, Simon Says, call and response animal noises (more fun than it sounds) and songs. Mr. Yang, the presenter for the day, was amazing. It's always fascinating to watch a phenomenal teacher at work. He had the young girls and guys completely hamming it up in front of their friends and strangers, I was really impressed. All in all, it was wonderful to see some of the countryside, work on my nonexistent singing skills and get a look inside a great organization promoting literacy.

From Luang Prabang, it's a tedious but beautiful 2-day slowboat ride into Northern Thailand. And from the border, it's about another day by bus to Chiang Mai where I stayed for a couple days to river-raft. From there I headed north to Pai to explore by motorbike the Golden Triangle area near the Chinese and Burmese border. Pai is a dreamy little town with awesome street food; you can see why hippies and gross old white guys with Thai teenage girlfriends never leave (honestly, all the sex tourism is a really hard part about traveling through SE Asia).

Downtown Pai

While stopping for a break from biking at a wired coffee bar in Northern Thailand, I learned that my sister-in-law and brother had become parents almost 2 months (!) ahead of schedule. These girls are clearly already exhibiting a tenacity and strength they come by from their parents! My own Auntie "M" describes them as "very centered little things-- just focused on growing up." The range of emotions I've gone through over the last couple days is vast; they're where my heart is, for sure. It's daunting to think of so much more of this journey ahead, when I already miss and love them with everything I've got. But I can't imagine a sweeter homecoming than meeting the next generation sometime next year.

Mekong river at dusk outside of Pakbeng, Laos.

Loving Laos

2011-11-06T23:45:00.000-08:00

Sabaidee from beautiful Laos! I started my travels here in this relaxed, geographically-diverse country in Viantiane. It's the Capital city and also the most populated, though you'd probably be surprised to hear that after visiting the sleepy, rather small riverside town. There's not a whole lot to do there, so after visiting some wats and exploring the riverfront, I followed a sign to get a massage in this lovely facility:

Open-aired spa in Laos

It ended up being one of the more interesting spa-like experiences of my life. First, I was given a sarong to change into behind a tree. Ok, fine. Then I was escorted into the hottest sauna I've ever been in by a lovely elderly lady who also brought me some piping hot tea. Within seconds, I was soaking and was proud I managed about ten minutes in the thing. After a bucket shower and brief cool down, I was escorted to the porch for a massage where I sat with a bunch of locals for awhile before settling in. The entire facility was open-air so it was important to make sure my sarong covered my most important parts. This was more nerve-wracking than you'd think when you consider how public everything is here- when I turned over mid-way through, I instantly made eye contact with 5 village women who had come to watch me while they stuffed sticky rice and pork into bamboo sticks for dinner. I smiled at them but ruled out waving, for fear of making any sudden moves. All in all, I left moderately more relaxed than when I came but I'm not sure I'd be a regular if I lived locally.

A beautiful day in Vang Viang

Zip-lining! So fun.

I'm eating plenty of traditional, delicious Laotian food here. One of my favorite meals so far is the Congee served for breakfast from the street stalls. It's a hot rice porridge poured over a fresh raw egg and topped with fried shallots, and a scoop each of chopped basil and scallions, and thinly sliced pork. On the side comes savory donuts for dipping and juicy lime wedges for an acid kick. All this for about a buck. I'm also fond of the spicy, acidic green mango and papaya salad, the ubiquitous BBQ stands and the French-influenced bakeries and coffee shops. And the national beer, Beer Lao, is one of the best brews in SE Asia so with all this together, it's a good thing most of my days are spent actively exploring the countryside.

Delicious

The city of Vang Viang, where I headed to next, is known as an adventure-hub in Laos. You can spend your days here caving, kayaking, trekking, zip-lining, rock climbing, biking or, most famously, tubing. Backpackers flock here to float down the river on inner tubes and spend their days at the raucous riverside bars where you can drink yourself into the ground and then climb 3 stories to take a trapeze swing out over the water, or climb 5 stories to fly down the Human Torpedo Water Slide. From what I had heard heading up here ("It's all 18 year-olds on acid!" or, "It's no fun if you don't get wasted by noon!"), I was convinced I would hate it. But, actually, for just one day, I loved it! When traveling alone, so many of your experiences are significantly tainted by the people you meet. I was lucky in that the two rad Kiwi girls I had zip-lined with the day before were also headed down the river and we connected with a German couple cycling their way through Laos, a friendly Australian ex-pat and a couple other "old" people. By old, I mean older than 25.

I had enough Beer Lao's to thoroughly enjoy flinging myself off the water swing, dance to blaring tech and pop, and fly down the Torpedo slide (once). But, I did not have enough Beer Lao's to spray paint obscenities on my body, scream every lyric to Britney Spears and go head first off the slide- holding a bottle of whiskey. So, if you go, just know that either option is available to you! I'd recommend starting about noon instead of two if you'd like to be with the people passing through town, instead of hanging with those who have tubed every day for the last 2 months...

I made sure to leave the city with a bang. On my last full day in town, I was sitting on the deck of my guesthouse, taking in the beautiful mountain view, sipping coffee and generally minding my own business. I noticed across the street and down about 20 yards there were a bunch of clothes drying in the sun. I giggled as some school kids pulled a bra off the fence and tried it on for their friends, and also as foreigners walking to the river pointed at the scene like, what kind of person would dry all their underwear on the main boulevard of town? As the morning went on, and more people stopped to laugh, I looked over as one lady pulled a sleeveless top off the rack and tried it on. I thought, that looks remarkably like the shirt I had CUSTOM-MADE in Vietnam! ... Are those... Are those MY CLOTHES?? OMG. Those were indeed my ripped, stretched-out, faded clothes that haven't seen a dryer since July and that I gave to the nice lady on the street last night to wash for about 60 cents a kilo. I'd happily do my own laundry but there aren't laundromats in this part of the world. I waited until the crowds cleared, took a picture and thought, thank god I am leaving ASAP so no one will associate me with the private viewing of my unmentionables that I provided for half the residents of this town...

Oh, no.

I left the city very early the next morning, in my most nondescript clothing, and headed just a few miles up the road to an organic farm that runs a volunteer program. For rock-bottom prices (my dorm is $2/night), you can stay and eat their wonderful cheap food if you help out during the day. This place is famous for their goat cheese and I was excited to learn more about the process while staying here. Tending the goats starts at 6 am but if you didn't bring an alarm clock, don't worry because the roosters start crowing before 5 and the rats running through the rafters will keep you sleeping light... First task is mucking all their stalls which are above ground on slatted floorboards. It takes about an hour to clear the stalls and center aisle of waste and remnants of their alfalfa dinner from the night before. Then it's time to clean the water buckets, feed them their morning meal of grain and herd all those that won't be milked that day into pasture to graze.

Milking was a family affair on the farm...

Straining the milk

Pi, the farm's eccentric cheese maker, and Naomok, his apprentice who taught me everything I know about cleaning goat houses, gave me a quick tutorial on getting as much milk as possible out of each goat. While I was being given very serious instructions about warming up the teat, I did have one of those Where Am I? moments. The milk is gathered, about 4 quarts worth, and brought to the shed where Pi adds starter liquid from yesterday's batch and a couple drops of important enzymes. Give it a mix, and let it sit for a day until it needs to be further strained into discus shapes. The day-old batch has curdled into the consistency of greek yogurt and is strained further for just another 12-18 hours before it's ready to be served at the restaurant. Watching the process was a lesson in simplicity for me. I love fancy cheeses that seem to be dipped in rose petals, gold, cashmere or whatever as much as the next person. But this cheese was perfect, and needed just rudimentary attention after coming from a healthy, grazing goat. So good.

Pi working his magic..

Naomok preparing the curds

I'm headed north once again, where hopefully the food and scenery will be just as wonderful!

Tumbles, Flooding and Food in Thailand

2011-10-26T05:35:00.000-07:00

Thailand is such a show-off. It's gorgeous, the people are friendly, the food is outrageous and I keep thinking how different it seems compared to the rest of SE Asia. Thailand and I did not experience love at first sight, however. On my second full day here I took a rather serious tumble while on a jungle trek on the island of Koh Chang.

View from the top of Koh Chang

Just a random waterfall, on our way up the trail.

I was rappelling down a wet, moss-covered steep rock face and the guy below me stumbled and snaked the rope. I was already on shaky footing and am hardly an experienced climber, so I over-compensated to steady myself, lost all grip from my shoes and slammed into the rock knees first before sliding about 10 feet down first on my stomach, then left side, then back. The good news? I never let go of the rope. I lost the top-half of 3 fingernails but I kept it together just enough to hold on to the damn rope.

The group I was hiking with pitched in wonderfully and I managed to ward off a full-fledged panic attack but it was actually rather terrifying. Obviously, I keep things light-hearted on the blog. I figure who wants to read about a girl feeling sorry for herself on the trip of a lifetime? But it would be dishonest to say I wasn't thrown by the fall and have struggled over the last few days to regain some positivity and confidence. I went to a medical clinic on the island, just to get cleaned up and disinfected, and received the unwelcome advice that I should refrain from getting my injuries wet, or expose them to the sun. So, with no swimming or sunshine available on an island in Thailand, I headed for Bangkok early the next morning.

Don't try this at home.

Monkeys are everywhere!

You may have heard about the flooding here, it's no joke. While it's just preparation in downtown Bangkok right now, the entire city is on lock-down. Some businesses have already closed and the traffic is much lighter than usual, from what I hear. But even with less cars on the road, this is a city of constant chaos. I'm in the lucky position right now of scouting out good places to go when I'm here again at the end of November with friends from DC. I'm also working on settling some logistics for the next leg of my journey in Sri Lanka, India and Nepal. So while I'm eating well, I'm saving most of the congested tourist attractions for my return visit.

Let's talk about food for a second because it's blowing my mind. The curries, fruit shakes and noodles are beyond compare. I've loved snacking on mangoes and chili salt, ginger and lychee smoothies, whole fried fish, jasmine rice with chili and scallion omelets, stewed chicken with vegetables and coconut milk, curried fried rice and, of course, Pad Thai. On Koh Chang, after dark you can see the dim lights of countless fishing boats off the coast. Oddly, it's looks a little like the oil refineries off of the CA Central Coast. One of the best meals I've had on this trip yet was fresh seafood Pad Thai (from those same boats) on my first night. It was a sensory memory I'll keep with me always.

I know, I know, rough life.

There's a definite appreciation in Bangkok for the off-kilter that is really fun to soak up. I've found myself thinking things like... Is that a transgender beat-boxing mime? Hell yeah it is! Are those women in burqas really posing with a wax figure of Jackie Chan? Yes, yes they are. And, is that a Korean BBQ restaurant with a carousel horse theme? Why, of course! A simple walk down the street is a constant source of entertainment.

Finally, I added a page called "International Book Club" (upper right) to keep track of the country-specific books I'm reading on the road. This list does not include the Dean Koontz, Danielle Steele, Stephen King or young adult science fiction paperbacks I'm taking from book swaps on the road... Please send me any suggestions you may have! I'll be adding and tweaking it periodically over time.

Happy Halloween! For what it's worth, I think "transgender beat-boxing mime" would make a great costume...

Bangkok skyline over their Central Park equivalent.

Wow, Angkor Wat, Wow

2011-10-18T02:18:00.000-07:00

"Wow, Sir, Wow" is an expression occasionally used in my old office. It was shorthand for "I have no other words to describe how ridiculously good/bad what you just said/did/insinuated is." Or put simply, I'm speechless. Angkor Wat is a place that takes all your descriptive words and mocks them. It's just awesome, and a highlight to any visit to SE Asia.

My first day, I woke up really early to watch the sunrise over Angkor Wat which is the biggest and obviously the most famous, but not the only temple in the complex. It was pouring rain but ever the optimist, I just hoped it would clear in time. My guide said in the high season about ten thousand people watch the sun rise over the biggest temple. I was one of no more than a dozen, standing knee-deep in moat water unable to see even a silhouette thanks to the tropical storm. Lonely Planet describes watching the sunrise over Angkor as a "capstone experience." I'll remember it because I was thinking, is this one of the regions in Cambodia with leeches? Fortunately, it's not. But even rain can't kill the beauty of places like this. As the day went on, the downpour continued with a lighter rain breaking things up every 2 hours or so. At one point it stopped for a whole 5 minutes and I ripped off my poncho and posed for 22 photos that all look like this:

Fortunately I had a three day pass so while it rained most of every day, there were periods of relief where I could see how beautiful a slanted sun looks on some of the most ancient artifacts in the world. On my second day, I did the "grand tour" which includes some more far-flung temples and also the Cambodia Land Mine Museum, which is an incredibly fascinating and emotional place to see.

The torrential rain was inconvenient but had its own romance. Mostly I was relieved not to be hassled incessantly by people selling water, coconuts, postcards, fried rice and scarves. Most of the vendor booths were entirely closed up and from what I've read and heard, that's very unusual. The three times I was bothered over three days is about as much as I should have been heckled in 15 seconds in the high season.

These little dudes made my day on the slowboat ride into Siem Reap.

Typical scene on a slowboat.

The journey to this end of Cambodia included some interesting bus rides and a slowboat from Battambang, about a day's journey from here. Our boat was lucky in that the engine made it through the day, but we did stop for all letters, produce deliveries, clothing and medicine distribution and, at one point, had 3 newborn crocodiles on board on their way upriver to a zoo. I added "journey by boat with crocodiles" to my mental list, Things I Never Thought I Would Do In My Life.


Typical spread of Khmer food from a night market in Cambodia.

Everyone wants some BBQ at the night market in Battambang.

Battambang was another cool city in Western Cambodia. Much of the tourism in the area revolves around the prevalent Killing Fields left over from the Pol Pot regime. But there are also opportunities to ride a bamboo train, one of Cambodia's coolest and almost extinct methods of transportation, fields of chili's drying in the sun, and... a winery! Seriously! I checked it out and while I don't think Trader Joe's will be ordering bulk shipments any time soon, it wasn't half-bad. Interestingly, grapes in Cambodia fruit 3 times a year, thanks to the tropical climate. So "annual" vintages are a blend of all kinds of harvests.

Wine tasting in Cambodia? Who knew?

This is my last dispatch from Cambodia, a place I've really fallen for. While the weather hasn't exactly cooperated, I've loved the journeys between cities and meeting locals, all of whom have fascinating personal stories to tell. Thanks to massive flooding in Thailand, I don't know what my travels there will bring, but I'm looking forward to it!

Life on the Mekong River

2011-10-10T05:43:00.000-07:00

I've gone off the grid a bit, over the last couple weeks. I was looking forward to scratching the surface of Cambodia and hopefully spending some time away from the manic tour system that monopolizes much of Vietnam and China. Leaving Vietnam, I spent some time in the floating villages and markets of the Mekong Delta before slowboating into Phnom Penh, the Cambodian Capital. I've fallen in love with slowboating- it's relaxing and almost always filled with locals. Outside of the big cities, the river communities get progressively less developed and more dependent on the river as their main source of livelihood.

A pineapple vendor in a floating market on the Mekong Delta. He reminded me of that
great line from Cabaret... "if I could, I would fill your room with pineapples."

So delicious it makes up for the pre-dawn market visit!

Eels are a popular staple of Mekong cuisine. I blame "The Princess Bride" for my inability to eat them.

In Kompong Cham, I motorbiked around for a day exploring Wats (temples) and avoiding the plentiful mice in my motel room. In the city of Kratie, I watched Irrawaddy dolphins, the only breed of freshwater dolphins in the world, frolic in the currents and spent a couple nights picking my way through the street stalls across from my guesthouse. Traditional Khmer food is delicious! Lots of citrus marinated beef and fish, plenty of spicy soups and fresh vegetables with fried eggs everywhere. After eating here, I understand why there are so many chickens running around.

Buddhist monks- they're just like us! I saw these men posing for pictures outside the National Palace in Phnom Penh.

Dolphin scouting on the Mekong

I also found the Cambodia Rural Development Team (http://www.crdt.org.kh/), which does really great work across the rural communities on the river. Through them, I spent some time on the island of Koh Pdao learning about rural life and rice production, and teaching English. I had no idea how labor-intensive it is to produce a humble bowl of rice. I went through every step with some young women from the island, including cutting, hulling, heating and shucking. After an exhaustive afternoon, we were finally able to enjoy the fruits of our labor.

Cutting rice with a sickle

Corn hauling. I couldn't manage the load on my head, but it was no problem for this local.

Final product in the metal bowl, fresh grains in the basket. We cracked open
a coconut over the top for the freshest sticky rice I've ever had!

A few of the young women on the island speak conversational English. With a lot of their help, I was able to get through a lesson about police officers in Lawrence, Kansas. I tried rather unsuccessfully to explain the concept of cities and states when one girl asked if there was a difference between "Lawrence" and "Kansas". For some reason, this made me sympathize with any teacher who has to explain the Electoral College to baffled students.

Bathing on the island also proved interesting. With no electricity or running water, the outdoor shower stalls contain a bucket of rainwater and a coconut shell for scooping. As I was trying to navigate the system my first night, I heard neighbors killing a chicken for dinner. It was a very acute "I am so far from home right now" moment, to say the least!

And the kids... they slay me. Less than a generation ago, Cambodians suffered through genocide and horrific devastation to their infrastructure thanks to the Khmer Rouge, led by Pol Pot. I highly recommend "First They Killed My Father," a book about the military camps from the perspective of a young girl who survived them and eventually moved to America as a refugee. With this kind of history, I look at anyone slightly older than myself and wonder about the stories they have to tell. And mostly I look at these beautiful kids and think, is there any greater testament to the resilience of the human spirit than children?

Like any small town I know, I was asked a lot about my personal life on the island. On my last night, I was light-heartedly frying eggs in fish sauce and pork fat with a kitchen full of women when one of them asked about my husband. When I replied that I didn't have a husband, and that yes, I was 28, the mood darkened. The women were very concerned. They offered to introduce me to some of their neighbors, and wondered what my relatives back home were doing to ensure I tied the knot quickly. At least this is what I'm pretty sure was being said, thanks to the broken translations offered by the teenagers in the group.

These lovely women were very concerned about my love life.

When I left before dawn the next morning, my homestay mother said, roughly translated, "come back with your husband." Ok thanks, will do! Even with the overreaching concern for my love life, my time on Koh Pdao and the surrounding areas of the Mekong was very special. It can be challenging to navigate (lots of broken-down buses and cars), but in many respects Cambodia is the most authentic place I've been to yet. I'm looking forward to moving westward tomorrow.

Miss Saigon

2011-09-28T01:18:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry about the cheesy title, I've just never been able to pass up a Broadway reference. The last week has been spent trickling through Hoi An, Natrang and now Saigon, known as Ho Chi Minh city to "tourists and communists," according to my motorcycle driver this morning. Saigon is another cool fusion city where East meets West, and historical significance is everywhere. The food ain't bad, either. I came here through Hoi An and Natrang, both of which are geared majorly towards tourists, and where I found myself indulging in custom-made clothes, a beach or two, cooking classes and souvenir shopping. I'm tapped out, full, and back to sharing a bathroom with 8 people so while the break was nice, I've returned to the reality of my budget.

Sunrise from a night bus close to Natrang

My bus trip to Saigon was quite interesting. I took a motorbike to the station and my driver asked me, "speak English?" and when I said yes, he proceeded to scream the entire "Happy Birthday to you!" song at the top of his lungs. One more of those "Asia is hilarious" moments. The bus was 2 hours late thanks to the constant torrential downpour and another guy and I were the last to get on. We're at the back of the bus by the bathroom and every seat is definitely taken. The bus clerk looks at us and puts 2 fingers together like, "you're together, right?". He then points to a pad on the ground in the aisle that's directly in front of the bathroom. We both say in unison "no no!" and he keeps putting his two fingers together like, "take one for the team, you guys." The pad was 18 inches wide- best case scenario we would have been uncomfortably spooning all night while sewage fumes surrounded us. And, while it could I guess technically pass as an "aisle seat," I've always been more of a window person myself. Finally we convinced the guy that we didn't in fact know each other, had pre-paid for a seat, and intended on using one (each).

Ho Chi Minh's portrait hangs in the City Post Office.

Antique alley in Saigon.

30 hours later I was in Saigon thinking, as I've started to with these numerous epic journeys on public transportation, 'this will all be hilarious after a shower.' In the last few days I've come to learn the city is also home to pretty much every single person I've met in Vietnam. My first night, I bonded with Becky the Brit and Mel the American and as we were getting dinner, I saw the rad French girls and sweet Spanish couple from my Halong Bay cruise. While getting a nightcap, we then ran into an Israeli couple from my night bus and made plans to tour the city the next day.

Famous War Remnants museum- much more comprehensive than the military museum in Hanoi.

A cyclo ride through Saigon...

We hired cyclos, which was an experience I don't need to repeat but was glad I did once, and hit the top sights including the War Remnants Museum and Imperial Palace. The city is clean and efficient and filled to the brim with motorcycles. Walking around here during rush hour is like being punched in the face with noise, fumes and chaos. It's exhilarating but exhausting to navigate a street crossing. After dinner that night, I ran into John and Claire, an Irish couple from my cruise as well, and the 7 of us went for coffee. Looking around, I was reminded of what I love most about traveling- meeting people.

Group shot

I also visited the Cu Chi tunnels here, which is another war tourism hot spot in the south. Honestly, this was my most uncomfortable war tourist attraction yet because, in many respects, the attraction seemed to glorify the war in a commercial way. For example, there were murals, pictures and demonstrations of how many soldiers were killed in spike traps and plenty of opportunities to buy hats, beer cosi's and tshirts with things like 'I survived the Cu Chi tunnels' screened on. Most disturbingly, for a dollar a bullet you could fire M-16's or AK-47's so the entire place is bathed in the sound of rapid gunfire.

Produce market in Hoi An

Mango salad with greens, crsipy shallots and sesame seeds. Sigh.

There were families there with small children, and I felt for one Mom in particular who looked completely freaked out about how her kids were handling the violent images and deafening noise. I understand Americans are likely more sensitive to the exhibits than your average foreign tourist, but most of the people in my group also seemed perplexed and thoughtful about all the information. I've got just a few more days in Vietnam before heading into Cambodia, and I feel like I'll be thinking about this place for quite awhile without coming to any sort of final conclusion. My time here has been perspective-building but also just really fun, and a great mix of long-term travel and vacation. I know that, like China, I'd like to come back later in my life to see how much has changed.

Tomorrow I head south to the Mekong Delta and into Cambodia from there!

"War Tourism" in Vietnam

2011-09-21T21:30:00.000-07:00

Obviously Vietnam has been on the tourist track for quite some time now; I'm hardly forging new ground as a Western visitor. But plenty of people have asked why I wanted to come here, and what it's like to travel through a place with a violent history with my own country. When he was reminded I would be in this general area, my grandfather, a decorated WWII vet, said "Why?".

On my last day in Hanoi, I visited the Hoa Lo Prison Museum. Known as the "Hanoi Hilton," this is where John McCain was famously held. I also stopped at the Vietnamese Military Museum, which focuses mostly on Vietnamese civil war history. It also featured an exhibit on the lasting effects of Agent Orange, the code name for chemical warfare used by the U.S. military from 1961 to 1971. From the American Veteran perspective, I worked on this issue in my former life in politics.

Ho Chi Minh highway, formerly known as the Ho Chi Minh trail

After spending all morning consuming the Vietnamese interpretation of the "American War," I was wandering the streets just trying to process it all when I ran into Marco, a gregarious German who I had met on my Halong Bay cruise. We grabbed lunch and on a balcony overlooking one of the busiest intersections in Old Town, we talked about our impressions of the country and how it's clearly still rebuilding from a violent past with France, America and a civil war. The topic led to WWII and our grandparents' involvement (I have family who served and his grandmother helped hide a Jew in her village in Northern Germany). All of this made me wonder- could my future kids or grandkids not only be safely traveling through Iraq and Afghanistan someday, but also meet up and chat with a Vietnamese about their families' distant but intermingling history? Unreal. I'm so glad I ran into Marco, he saved me from a moody place that would have been hard to shake entirely on my own. And our conversation epitomized what you hope to find on a trip like this- a random meeting that creates an entirely new perspective on things.

The caption here reads "What is President Johnson thinking?"

As I moved south, I was also really intrigued to explore some of the De-Militarized Zone (DMZ) on the central coast. I spent a few days in Hue and Danang taking in some tours and museums. In Hue you can eat at places like "Cafe Charlie" and "Bar DMZ" and you might remember Danang from Robin Williams' monologue in "Good Morning Vietnam!". One of the weirdest things is to tour places like former military bases, POW camps and cemeteries like it's some sort of hip, fun thing to see. It was unnerving to see people from all different backgrounds strike dramatic poses with rusted machine guns and do handstands (really) in the tunnels built by Vietnamese to hide from American bombs.


Front of the Doc Mien Fire base, now a coffee plantation and museum.

American aircraft still on the ground.

On both day-long tours I took, I found myself to be the only American. This made for some really uncomfortable questions like, "is it true Americans teach children that war is good?". For the record, after I recovered from the sheer shock of the question, I responded with the most WTF answer I could muster without completely losing cordiality. Most of the other folks were war and history buffs from Australia, Israel and Europe. I had naive hopes that I would bond with other Americans on these trips, maybe even veterans, but that was certainly not the case.

Message in the guestbook.

But the guestbook in the museum at the Doc Mien Fire base proves that plenty of Vets have made the trip. The base was a former American stronghold in the heart of the DMZ and is now a coffee plantation run by locals. Some messages were benign-- "may all the souls who rest in this place finally be at peace." And some were opinionated-- "I was here. USMC. Semper Fi. Very inaccurate place today. Full of false statements...". I can't even imagine what it must be like to return to Vietnam for a veteran who served here. The messages in the book will I'm sure be one of my most poignant memories from this country, if not my whole trip. War tourism is unsettling and I can't quite figure out all that I'm supposed to feel about it. But I'm glad I came, if nothing else to pay my own respects.

I've just settled a little further down south in the beautiful French colonial city of Hoi An. I hear food, beaches and tailor-made clothing is prevalent in these parts and I'm looking forward to checking it out.

Adventures in Transportation in Northern Vietnam

2011-09-16T08:30:00.000-07:00

I hit the ground running in Vietnam and haven't slept in the same bed once for the last 9 days. Moving around that much requires quite a bit of planes, trains and automobiles. Except here it's more like motor bikes, row boats, mini-buses and muddy boots. After soaking up Hanoi for a great couple days, I took a night train to Sapa, a trekking hub in the North known for stunning scenery. I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the sleeper car on the "Orient Express," until I figured out I had an accidental first class ticket booked through a tour company and all those in third class were sleeping with cockroaches. Feeling rather guilty, I thoroughly enjoyed my stay.

Pho for dinner, motorcycles for ambience in Hanoi

In the chaos leaving the train station very early the next morning, I followed the wrong sign (for the record, it did say EMILY GHAN so I was pretty sure I was on the right track...) and ended up driving up the mountain with a group of Japanese businessmen. When I got to the hotel a couple hours later, the manager had a bit of a flip-out that I wasn't on his list. Turns out "EMILY GHAN" got printed twice and the budget travelers I should have been with had driven 60 kilometers in the other direction to visit the Bac Ha market, which I was also keen on going to. Next thing I know, I'm standing out in the rain wondering if I have time to grab my poncho when the manager flags down a motorcycle, throws me on the back and says "GRAB!". I have a secret-- I've never ridden a motorcycle before. And for a second, I thought, maybe a rain storm on mountain roads in Vietnam is not the best first-time experience?

But the driver quickly proved himself a pro, and riding a bike is more similar to riding a horse than I would have thought. And, most importantly, it was AMAZING. We stopped for a purple trashbag to put over my clothes and tech gear and peeled down the mountain. The trip was part paved road, part dirt road, and entirely soaking wet. It was the most exhilerating 130 kilometers of my life!

Giddy, purple

Even more beautiful whooshing by...

It's important to watch for water buffalo crossings in this neck of the woods...

The following days were all about muddy boots, as I trekked through some smaller villages south of Sapa. Within minutes, I was covered in mud and... other stuff. This day was also home to my first truly epic travel story. I can't quite bring myself to fully describe it yet because I'm embarrased to admit I haven't gotten over the "shock" and "anger" phase. The short story involves: an unfortunately placed trough of water buffalo shit, an even more unfortunately placed stumble of mine, throwing away an entire outfit of clothing (a big deal when you're traveling light), walking the last 5 kilometers to the next village in nothing but a belted poncho, and buying a shirt that says 'I heart Pho' and a pair of velvet culottes. If I hadn't had nightmares and involuntary gag reflexes for the last few days, I'd provide more details. For now, I think you get the drift.

My now beloved poncho, which saved me from utter and total humiliation.

From Sapa, I headed straight to Halong Bay on the coast. I was excited to be at a beach again and was thrilled that the scenery in the Bay really is as impressive and gorgeous as everyone says. My boat was filled with a fun group of Europeans and Australians and we had a great time kayaking, cave-touring, swimming, and depleting the boat's entire stash of Tiger beer. It was a wonderful, completely surreal night.

Stunning Halong Bay

And then things got interesting again the next morning. Most of us were staying another night on Cat Ba Island, and after docking and negotiating for a mini-bus to take us to town, we promptly came across a completely flooded road. It's the rainy season here, so we were at the mercy of a fleet of fisherman who probably make their annual pay rowing tourists and locals alike across the 1/2 mile stretch of road that is completely submerged in murky water.

There's my ride

I think my expression speaks for itself...

It's amazing how many people can fit in a bus.

I think I would have enjoyed the sail a little better had I not been responsible for bailing water out the back, but I was happy to do my part to ensure we made it safely across. Waiting not too far on the other side, we found another bus that played "It's A Small World" when backing up. It seemed like destiny that our international hodge-podge took it to our final destination. The rest of the afternoon was thankfully uneventful and we managed to get a hike in through Cat Ba National Park. I've loved this region and, minus the clothing I'm leaving behind, will miss it as I head south.

Great hike in Cat Ba National Park!

China Round- Up

2011-09-08T16:29:00.000-07:00

I couldn't have asked for a more diverse, beguiling and thought-provoking place with great food to start my trip. China has surprised me, and definitely forced a steep learning curve in extended travel. As I'm sure every destination will, each day here provided a lesson in my own ignorance. This morning, I jumped on a parked bus to take me to the larger village in the area with a train station. It was empty but buses here generally don't leave until they're full so I figured I'd have to wait it out. I sat alone for 15 minutes sweating profusely until the driver hopped in and cranked the AC. Out of every shady nook and cranny in a 200 ft radius, locals suddenly flocked to the bus. Every single one of them looked at me like, "what kind of idiot sits on a sweltering hot bus any longer than necessary?". Touché China, touché.

Early morning exercises in Shanghai

A typical Chinese market scene

Amongst all the good memories, I've also been scammed and confused. But at least it's cheap here, and I'm hoping the lessons I've learned (every single price is negotiable, never buy coffee at your hostel, steer clear of temperamental babies without diapers, etc) will help me as this journey progresses. A few things I've taken notes on along the way...

Transportation:

Train: 9 day, 5 night

Metro: 11

Cab: 12

Bus: 17

Boat: 11

State Department Van: 5

Bike: 6

Random Police Escort: 1

Tuktuk: 4

Yes, this is what you will battle every time you want to buy a ticket

….but there is no guarantee the agent will speak English

If I had to pick a central theme for my time in China, it would be train travel. I've been up and down this subcontinent and while I really enjoyed the opportunity to travel somewhere in real time and watch the countryside go by, it took a lot out of me to navigate this place entirely overland. A few tips if you plan on taking the trains here anytime soon:

- Buy your tickets as soon as possible. I had to change plans numerous times because I couldn't get a ticket somewhere I had hoped to go. If time is of the essence to you, it's worth popping for a plane ticket. And even if you're coming off a long trip, head straight to the 2 hour line at the new station to plan your outgoing journey.

This is a newer, nicer train but I think the expressions of the people in the foreground speak volumes...

In friendly, safe situations, the Chinese get a kick out of photo features on the iPad!

- Make friends. I mean this 2 ways- 1) your concept of personal space will forever be changed by a 36 hour 3rd class ticket. Cuddle with your neighbors, eat with your neighbors, politely look at their photo albums from Universal Studios, agree to take pictures with them, and generally try and be pleasant. In my experience, people will look out for the polite but confused foreigner. 2) young Chinese almost always speak a bit of English. Ask them to help you out with a disagreeable ticket agent.

- Don't be a pushover. The first time I was physically lifted off the ground by a crowd surge to get on a train, I thought, "maybe it would be easier to just let all these people go ahead of me." Do. Not. Think. This. You won't have a place to put your bag, you'll stand all night, you'll get elbowed in the boob by an old woman with no teeth, you'll be laughed at by toddlers, etc. While most tickets technically have a seat or berth, space is at a premium and you need to claim your rightful place in line to make the trip manageable.

-Enjoy the ride! Many of my most hilarious and ridiculous China moments (I really did get physically harassed by an old woman with no teeth) come from my countless hours on trains here. And, it's a beautiful place to watch the world go by.

View from one of the cooler guesthouses I stayed in

Malls:

In Beijing I finally started writing down Mall names that amused me. You're a purist? You'd probably prefer "The Mall," "New Mall," or "The Big Mall." Francophile? Maybe "Printemps Promenade" is more your style. A Feng Shui devotee? Try the "Fire and Ice Mall" or the "Great Ocean Mall." Just out for a good time? The "YouMeLove Mall," "Summer Nights Mall," or "Funtimes Mall" should work for you.

A local vendor selling her craft

Books:

The thing about traveling alone is that a lot of evenings are long and I don't have the money to go out often. My e-reader has been indispensable and I'm finding that one of my favorite things about visiting places is reading about them in fiction or nonfiction for a different kind of context. About China specifically, I read "River Town" and "Oracle Bones" both by Peter Hessler, and "Beijing Welcomes You" by Tom Scocca. All three are highly recommended. Looking forward, I read "Freedom at Midnight" about India's independence from Great Britain, Ghandi's life and assassination and the origins of Pakistan. It was an exhaustively researched book; highly recommended. Off the top sellers list, I read "Unbroken" by Laura Hillenbrand and "Room" by Emma Donaghue. I also read the Twilight Saga because I'm not that hardcore. If you have any recommendations for books about SE Asia, or by SE Asian authors, please send them my way!

My Vietnam visa is secured and my bus ticket over "Friendship Pass" is bought. As a parting gift, the nondescript noodles I bought on the street last night have given me my first case of (minor, thankfully) food poisoning. I'd say 1 meal out of 5 weeks of eating fearlessly in China isn't too bad... See you in Hanoi!

Beautiful view from a sunset hike on my second to last night in China

Yin and Yang

2011-09-02T15:56:00.000-07:00

China is a country of contrasts. I've been moving through cities at a rather rapid pace, seeing that it takes a day, night, or a day and a night, to get to my next destination. All the train travel is catching up with me- I have a China hack and a bit of a cold, and have felt pretty rundown. Taking it easy in the countryside was a perfect cure. I was also looking forward to some physical exertion other than sprinting across crowded intersections and running to catch busses. Where Beijing aims to impress you purely with stature and formality, rural towns in the south want you to take note of their rice terraces and minority villages, and eat delicious things like whole fried fish in beer batter and roasted corn and bamboo diced with Sichuan peppers and ginger.

Dawn on the Yangtze

The first dried fish vendors come in early in the morning. They sell all kinds of things, most of which is delicious.

But before I made it this far down, I spent a few days on the Yangtze river. I've never taken an American cruise but from what I understand, it's all about relaxing and eating. This is entirely not the case in China. For 3 days my activity level was full throttle. For example, our first stop on our first night was from midnight to 2am, and then we were awoken the next morning before dawn. Can you imagine the mutiny retirees from Florida would stage if it was like that on Royal Caribbean? And there's no food, only a snack cart with water and tea and dry noodles. The boat holds about 250 people and, as the only foreign woman on board, I'm pretty sure I took a picture with every single one of them.

A cruise ship and barge make their way down the river

Creeping into the crevices of the river with smaller boats...

We temple-hopped, disembarked to smaller and smaller boats, sang songs, listened to minority fisherman and early morning opera performances, hiked along unsteady flotation devices, viewed tight-rope bikers, and hustled through both the Little 3 Gorges and the 3 Gorges Dam. Basically, I was expecting leisurely sails and breezes off the water and found myself in a full-blown summer camp. On my last train ride, I read "River Town" by Peter Hessler, a book about his experience in the Peace Corps in a town on the Yangtze in the late 90's before the dam went in. After the trip I was struck particularly by this passage:

"The country [China] has been controlling and harnessing water for centuries- no other civilization on earth has such a long and successful history of turning rivers to man's use."

Lucy, my best friend for the weekend. Her father took approximately 647 photos of us together.

The Yangtze tourism industry is the heart of all the river towns I saw- ports are everywhere and each stop runs like a well-oiled machine down to the touts who want to roll you up the mountains and sell you coin purses, NBA memorabilia, jewelry and dinner. If you've read the book, Hessler's quaint description of slow-boating from Chongqing doesn't really exist anymore. You can hop a barge but they usually pass the most impressive scenery at night. It appears as if the dam blew the area open for a bustling tourism industry. Like all of China, business opportunities are alive and well.

Lake-viewing in Guilin

Watching local fisherman do their thing in a valley town about 50 km south of Guilin.

After disembarking and taking 2 (two!) back-to-back night trains, I was so ready to eat and relax like the American I am. I'm in the Guilin area, which is stunning, friendly and the first city in China I've been to where I can walk around and see most of it in a day. Maybe I found the Chinese Santa Barbara? It's also a great spring point for hiking rice terraces and riding bamboo boats. I loved climbing to the top of Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces and soaking up the mountains and smaller rivers as much as I could.

A pig herder, on a cell phone.

Approaching the top of Dragon's Backbone

The change of scenery has really done me well and at this point, I'm looking to explore the area further as I trickle my way down to Nanning, where I need to stay a few days to secure my visa to Vietnam. It's so odd to already be thinking about SE Asia, but it's officially on the horizon!

Success!

Love and War in Xi'an

2011-08-25T07:05:00.000-07:00

After 27 godforsaken hours in a hard seat slow train to get here, I have no words to describe how happy I was to finally arrive in Xi'an. I'll buy you a beer sometime and tell you how to pass a day and a night in the third class rail car but for now, just consider yourself lucky that you probably sleep horizontally and not cuddled with hundreds of strangers, and likely don't eat your meat in tube form.

Xi'an is known as the end of the silk road, home of the Terracotta Warriors and a busy, bustling melting pot in central China. You can also find one of the largest Chinese Mosques here, and subsequently a large population of Chinese Muslims. The Bell and Drum Towers are main tourist draws, as are the City Walls that are still intact or rebuilt from the 14th century. My hostel was very cool, designed in traditional Chinese courtyard style, and after a long purifying shower post train trip, I headed out.

A view of the Bell Tower from the Drum Tower in central Xi'an.

Overlooking the Muslim Quarter from the Drum tower.

My first stop was the Terracotta Warriors, broadcast around town as "the most famous archeological find in the world." It's essentially a life-size army of 6 thousand completely unique statues built by China's "great unifier," Qin Shi Huang to protect him in the afterlife. As with all great archeological finds, there are plenty of gift shops and an introductory video, where I met one of the most adorable old ladies ever. I'm leaning against a railing thinking the video reminds me of every Civil War reenactment stereotype except in 13th Century China, and a woman leans next to me and grabs my hand. I look over thinking she's mistaking me for someone else (as if I could be mistaken for someone else in a room full of Chinese). We smile at each other and I keep holding her hand back because, well, look at this woman. Wouldn't you hold her hand too?

Me and my new best friend.

We just sat there like 2 teenagers at a drive-in until the movie ended. Her grand-daughter asked to take a picture and of course I needed one too. Sadly, we parted ways after the movie with lots of little bows. Random.

View from the main platform.

The refurbished warriors stand in front.

You'd think I could have managed a more staid expression...

The excavation of the warriors is very impressive and flippin' huge! Unfortunately the archeologists only work at night when the crowds leave, but the pit was still a site to be seen. The pride China takes in the warriors is very evident-- and with pride comes marketing opportunities. You, too, can take your picture with the "original farmer who is now very rich man" who discovered the pit in 1974. You can also hear all about how much the world loves China and their Warriors, and have your face molded into a Warrior replica, such as the (presumably unsuspecting) former President Clinton:

Oh, you didn't know former President Clinton got his start in politics as a Terracotta Warrior?

The city is worth a visit in of itself and the street market here is something else. I've gone back now every day because I can't get enough. With the large Muslim population in town, it's as if Beijing and Istanbul had a love child as far as the food is concerned. I finally bought a little notepad just to write down the food that blew my mind because I was tired of forgetting details as soon as I got back to my hostel. Think lamb kebob, sesame flat bread, udon noodle stews with mint and garlic remolades, mixes of dried kiwis, apricots and chilis, roasted walnuts in sesame oil, almond and cardamom tea cookies, sweet sticky rice balls dipped in sesame seeds and covered in fig jam and pistachio crumbles, fried quail eggs on sticks slathered in chili sauce, pancakes stuffed with lamb and scallions... I could go on and on. It's amazing.

Sesame bread baking and commerce.

Muslim Quarter street sweeper.

My plans have changed a little bit (of course) and now I'm headed to Chonqing, where I'll hopefully hop a Yangtze River boat. I've been told the Chinese crowds will die down with the end of August so I'll be curious how my ability to get train tickets will be influenced from there.

Happy Labor Day Weekend!

A Lesson in Diplomacy in Beijing and the Tsingtao Beer Festival in Qingdao

2011-08-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

Beijing is a giant and overwhelming city, and arriving delirious and with cankles (sorry, TMI?) after a long hard seat night train did not put me in the best frame of mind for being impressed. Add getting kicked out of my first cab at the train station, and my second cabbie insisting on 5 more yuan to open the trunk to get my bag out and you could say Beijing and I didn't exactly get off on the right foot. Fortunately, I came around to a begrudging respect for the sheer volume of history here but I'm not adding Beijing to the list of my favorite cities anytime soon. But man, the sights are something else...

Chairman Mao overlooking Tiananmen Square

Just a little hot and just a little crowded in the Forbidden City

Night market in Beijing

Tiananmen Square at dawn, the Forbidden City in the heat and suffocating crowds, endless markets selling jade, pearls, lotus seed candy, Michael Jordan playing cards, roasted giant roaches, and ducks in bags... the list goes on. It's hard to even just get started in Beijing, so I hit the top sights first and jumped on a bus organized by my hostel to the Great Wall. It was unbelievable to actually see it finally, and scramble around the crumbling steps. I was feeling like an uber traveller when I signed up so I went straight for the day-long hike. A week later, it's hard to regret going the distance for these kind of pics:

Photo by Sumeet Moghe, a nice Indian guy I met on the bus. I hope to visit him in Bangalore!

Another one from Sumeet, this is me making the final climb

But the best part, by far, in Beijing was hanging out with my old friend from DC, Connolly, and some of her colleagues who were in town on a trip for the State Department. She not only saved me from my hostel wreaking of urine, she also kicked up my sight-seeing ability a notch. We spent time in markets where I honed my bargaining skills-- stay tuned for pics of me in my "Ray Bans" and a silk scarf or two. Fake Louis Vuitton bags are one thing but we also saw fake Tom's, which seems to cross a line. We also hit up 798, a really awesome Art Zone where you can stroll through galleries of contemporary art and quirky souvenir and trinket shops. Freedom of expression isn't exactly synonymous with China, so spending time surrounded by the works of local artists was a really wonderful side of this country to see.

Conballs in "Sharon Stone's" pearl shop

Courtyard in 798, the Beijing Arts District

I have no words for how good this duck was except "life-changing."

Even though I've only been going for a few weeks now, it was great to hang out with such friendly people who remind me quite a bit of my former life. Apparently even in China, I can't escape politics! It was fascinating to get a glimpse of diplomacy in action and rather excellent to use a clean shower and let my stuff explode and my guard down for a short while. I even got a chance to give a break-dancing tutorial. I thought my skills would get a little rusty on the road but after one or two Tsingtao's, the worm made an appearance. Katherine, if you're reading this, just keep practicing. You're a natural! And randomly on my last night in Beijing, I had my first international blog connection.

Patty, Abby, Brad, me, Tom and Connolly get some Tsingtao's for the road

It's 1am in Beijing Barb, and we miss you!

Some of us were having a nightcap in the hotel lobby and a guy, Max, traveling with the Georgetown basketball team (also in town and staying at the hotel, randomly) came over and introduced himself. A friend of mine and old roommate of Connolly's, Barb, works with him in the Sports Information office and told him to keep an eye out for Connolly at the hotel. Barb had also shared my Shanghai post with Max and when we figured all that out, we had to take a picture.

Alas, early the next morning I had to face my reality as a solo budget traveler and hit the road. The only ticket I could get out of town was to Qingdao, where they make Tsingtao, the famous Chinese beer. There also happens to be a beer festival going on so at the risk of sounding like an alcoholic, I wasn't too bent out of shape about heading out here to the seaside. After getting my ticket to Xi'an (where I'm heading next) and figuring out where my guesthouse was, I hit the main boulevard in town.

Qingdao from the boardwalk

On the corner, I ran into a gentleman with a scale and decided to check it out. A friend from DC had told me she weighed herself on the street in China and I'm really curious about how a trip like this will affect me physically so I gave it a whirl. I got on and the ticker spun around a couple times and ended up on 48. I asked "kilo?" to the guy and he said "no, L- B's." When I showed him the number he picked it up and shook it around and I tried again. 317, this time. Not likely. Needless to say, I tried to get my 2 yuan back to no avail. So if you've ever wondered what I weigh, I can say with authority that it's somewhere between 48 pounds or kilos and 317 pounds or kilos.

Qingdao is a coastal, breezy town with dried shrimp and crawfish in most every window and plenty of women shading under parasols. The beer festival is not quite Oktoberfest, but fun nonetheless. I ended up at a table of South Koreans where I found myself saying things like "yes, I hear Buffalo is lovely town, your son is lucky to be studying there," and "actually, the actors in the Waterworld show at Universal Studios aren't really that famous." It was a surreal, and rather buzzed night. My biggest regret of the trip so far is leaving my camera battery charging at the hostel while I was there... but I'm hoping to track some pics down when I have Facebook again some day.

I would agree that Tsingtao beer can give you passion and happiness

Tomorrow I head to Xi'an, then south to Chengdu and finally into the mountains from there. I didn't exactly plan it like this but it looks like my first month in China will be mostly urban, and my second mostly rural. Cheers!

A warm welcome to China- Shanghai and Hangzhou

2011-08-12T06:17:00.000-07:00

Hello from behind the Great Firewall of China! Apologies for the blog delay but for an inexplicable reason, the China internet police have cut off my ability to access Shenanighans out here. Facebook I was prepared to miss, but not this! I've recruited a proxy blog poster (thanks David!) until I leave this beautiful, giant, ancient, hot and steamy place.

XieXie!

So far, China and has really treated me right. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop because I feel downright spoiled by both Shanghai and Hangzhou. I arrived thrilled but rather bleary-eyed in Shanghai. I connected through Vancouver, so I had been treated to a stunningly gorgeous lift-off over British Columbia. On the flip side, when I lifted the shade approaching Shanghai, all I could see was gray. I didn't expect to be so bowled over by the pollution. It's no joke, you guys. And even a week in now, I still have a hard time catching my breath after biking or walking long distances.

Pudong Skyline from the Bund in Shanghai

Some very friendly, random and shirtless elderly gents took it upon themselves to walk me from customs to the metro in the Shanghai airport and point me in the right direction. Lots of thumbs up gestures, "hello, hello, hello" and smiles ensued, although I felt like a bit of a circus freak attracting so much attention (the Chinese are all about staring, and 3 old Chinese guys and a foreign lady with a pack made quite a scene). There was a dumpling stand on the corner getting off the metro and despite the jet-lag, pouring rain and the fact I had no idea which direction to head, those dumplings will rank as one of the best dinners in my life. My first meal in China! I still can't believe I'm finally here.

Dragon fruit shopping at a Shanghai market

Shanghai is an international city to the core, and the bilingual signs and efficient public transportation system are awesome. I visited great museums, including the Shanghai City History Museum in the basement of the Oriental Pearl Tower in Pudong (this is the structure you see most frequently associated with Shanghai). Highlights from that visit included an exhibit for kids about "FUN farming in the Ming Dynasty!" and an information sign that described "western food" as "huge food." There's also a lot of references to WWII (known here as the "Anti-Japanese War") and Shanghai's history as a hotbed for ex-pats and opium. Coincidence?

But the real fun in Shanghai happens in massage parlors. I went to one with a friend of a friend, Mike, who works here and graciously showed me around. We were placed in the same room and as we're walking in Mike is telling me that the Chinese are not afraid of nudity and it's a very open culture in that respect. He's turned around so I think he means "so go ahead and get ready now" and our male masseuses don't appear to be going anywhere, so I'm the consummate joiner like, ok it's totally normal in China to take my clothes off in a room full of men! So I take my shirt off and the two male masseuses say "no, no, no!" and Mike's like "they're still here? I thought they left! No no!" so I grab my shirt to my chest as the masseuses literally run out of the room and I'm left thinking two things-- major ego blow and 3 days in China and I'm already causing international incidents... Mike explained to me later that the nudity thing is within sexes, definitely not between them, so I'm sure I've developed a reputation as the "blondie" looking for cheap thrills. Don't worry, there are no pictures from the massage parlor.

Maneuvered my way to the back of a market to find my first Cricket fight!

Yes, please.

I'm also eating well out here- traditional Shanghai soup dumplings, spicy tofu, mushroom noodle soup, tangy pork and rice, edamame popsicles, cucumber flavored potato chips, fry bread with bok choi, sesame buns, etc. I've loved every bite except a poorly steamed liver dumpling I got suckered into buying to "beat the heat!" outside of the Jade Buddha Temple in Shanghai. Right, lady, right. After a very chaotic, entertaining and stressful experience buying train tickets (think shoving, spitting, foot-stomping, wild gesturing and befuddled expressions), I headed out to Hangzhou having little idea it was one of China's most popular tourist destinations.

This is a picture of me thinking it's hilarious I'm using the escalator at an ancient Pagoda.

Overlooking one of many Buddhist temples in Hangzhou

(you'd be sweaty biking in 95 degree heat, too)

The city is centered around a lake and home to numerous Buddhist temples, Pagodas and ancient stone carvings. I bunked with an international group of very friendly guys and three of us, 2 Chinese and me, headed out for a day-long bike tour of the region. After city-dwelling for a week, the landscape was awesome even though my bike was definitely designed for someone barely 5 ft tall.

Beautiful view of West Lake from the mountains

Laughing Buddhas!

We wandered through lake-view temples, gawked at 500 over-sized gold plated Buddhas, and dipped our toes in the natural bubbling springs. It was hands down one of the most surreal and beautiful places I've ever been. A week in, I'm loving how friendly the Chinese are, adjusting to sketchy hostel bathrooms, excited about the places to come, contemplating the security I've left behind, reading copiously, and devouring all these new tastes and sights. Tonight, I head to Beijing!

Last shot of a great day- biking through hills of tea leaves.

A sneak peek to my next post: 17 hour train rides give you cankles.

Heading Out!

2011-07-31T11:05:00.000-07:00

The last two weeks have been a blur of packing, securing visas, bringing my mom into the 21st century with Skype, Facetime and Facebook, eating guacamole, seeing friends and family and loading my ipad with books, music and endless podcasts.

I'll miss you, CA

I had a wonderful 28th birthday bash, the best ever really. A multi-generational group of us went down to the San Diego area for an epic day of beer tasting. We hit up Stone, Ballast Point, Greenflash, Lost Abbey and Port Brewing Companies. All were fantastic, and it's a good thing I won't have access to that kind of delicious beer for awhile...

The group at Greenflash. Best Birthday Ever!

I'm surprisingly calm and ready to just finally hit the road. I swear, I'm finally leaving already! I'm grateful for the graciousness I've been shown tooling around the country this summer on some sort of extended farewell tour. The blog is still odd to get used to, it's been awesome to reconnect with some folks I haven't seen in ages and amusing to hear that some of my closest friends can't remember it exists. So, a million thanks for the support and I'll see you in Shanghai!

RTW Gear List

2011-07-26T12:37:00.000-07:00

Hello again!

I might be venturing into TMI territory for some of you with a gear list post, but it's something I found really helpful when scouring travel blogs for tips. Let's skip over the part about how much I've obsessed over some of this stuff, how many cute REI employees with facial hair I've consulted, and how many mistakes I'll inevitably make with some of this crap and get right to it, ok?

Pack:
Osprey 65L (I went big with the intention of stuffing my day pack in here as well, if need be)

Day-Pack:
REI "mini" messenger bag w/ clip front

clothing spread out...

...and cubed up.

Clothes:
5 tops- 3 T's, 2 tanks
2 Columbia Marakesh Maven dresses (black)
1 "active" skort
1 pair black capris
1 pair Nike yoga pants
8 pairs Patagonia travel underwear
4 bras- 1 black, 1 nude convertible, 2 sport (this seems excessive but bras beyond A cups are pretty much the only thing I know I can't count on buying in Asia...)
1 swimsuit
3 ankle socks
1 lightweight black zip-up hoodie
1 Marmot wind/water resistant jacket
1 black scarf
1 floral headscarf
2 hats- one collapsible wide brim, 1 ballcap
1 pair sleep shorts
2 pairs bike shorts

Shoes:
Chaco walking sandals (stop smirking)
1 pair lightweight Keen hikers
1 pair cheapo flip-flops

toiletries spread out...

...and in a dopp kit

Toiletries:
sunscreen
toothbrush
toothpaste
hair pick
dry shampoo
dry body wash
bobby pins
travel wipes
hand sanitizer
deodorant
baby powder
Q-tips
face wash
face lotion
bug repellent (DEET)
razor w/ 2 extra blades
floss
"feminine protection"

Tech:
ipad (this was a long internal debate, but the idea of an e-reader sold me)
ipad cover
ipad charger
international converter/adapter
Sony Cyber-shot 10.2 megapixel camera w/ case
2 batteries
2 16 GB memory cards
ipad picture loader
1 wifi camera card
1 collapsible travel tripod

Misc:
mini first aid kit
meds- fiber, pepto, birth control, doxycyclone (malaria med), cipro, tylenol
swiss army knife
light-weight sheet
earplugs
inflatable neck pillow
head lamp
sharpie w/ duct tape
journal
bandana
super-absorbent towel
couple pics from home
poncho/bag cover
1 pair sunglasses
5 ziplocs
spork
combination lock
good luck charm
passport (!)
money (!!!)

Pack weighs in at 32 lbs, daypack at 3.5 lbs

RV-ing in Montana: Totally Awesome, Just Don't Make Me Empty the Sewage Tank

2011-07-17T10:43:00.000-07:00

I wish I could say that RV-ing in Montana is like eating meat off the bone-- but I'm currently lounging on a couch, and staring at my brother's espresso machine after enjoying the night away in a jacuzzi because of a rained-out game. This is a beautiful place, yes, but I'm definitely not roughing it. For the last 5 days, I've been driving and driving and hiking and base-balling through this stunningly gorgeous state. For the sake of the dog, Ryan figured renting an RV in Billings would be the best bet. Fortunately, everything that could have gone wrong about that idea did, and we ended up spending just one night in a Billings hotel and moving on to Missoula the next day. Since then, we've also laid our heads in Flathead Lake and Great Falls, and have driven through Glacier National Park and other unending streams of natural beauty.

Just an average roadside stop in Montana...

That'll do, Montana, that'll do...

I'm here with Ryan and Lucy of South Dakota fame, and our old friend Michael, who joined us for this leg of the trip. Traveling with these two dudes requires some serious brotherly bonding. I have the kind of adult friendship with Michael that can only be formed from hating each other as kids (I'm embarrassed to admit that, in 1987, I believed him when he told me his feet smelled like cherries). Traveling with these guys has also affected my sense of gender roles. I'm not one to fall into them so quickly but I've been happy to let Ryan empty the sewage tank, Michael grill the meats and, as for me, I cook breakfast and make sure we're all wearing sunscreen.

We made it! First game in Billings.

I won't name names (RYAN), but the RV mis-hap required adding hundreds upon hundreds of additional miles to our trip. It's hard to complain though, when it means you spend a great night in Missoula, drinking delicious local beer and strolling along the riverwalk watching fancy kayakers impress the crowds in the rapids. In the morning, we hiked the "M" adjacent to the University of Montana and Ryan and Michael gorged themselves on biscuits and gravy at the Kampgrounds Of America (KOA) breakfast buffet. When traveling via RV, you stay at these giant KOA compounds that we've learned vary significantly depending on where you are. It's the kind of bubble where people ask you how your day's going, where you got your sandals, and men sit around and talk for hours about their "equipment." We then sauntered up the mountains to Flathead Lake, where a friendly local barista told us only the "rich tourists" visit. Bummer.

Beautiful evening in Missoula

Our night on Flathead included a rather epic campfire and lots of whiskey. This night was responsible for Ryan seriously and forcefully explaining to Michael that he "doesn't drink any of that wheat beer sh*t!" and Michael providing a detail or two too many about his rollicking love life. He's doing alright for himself, if you were wondering. We also managed to set off the smoke alarm in the RV and poor Lucy has yet to recover from the shock...

Group shot at Kerr Dam

Glacial Brewing Company tasting (highly recommend) in Polson, MT.

Stunning view of Flathead Lake from the KOA grounds in Polson

Then it was off to Glacier National Park and wow, what a place that is. The depth of color of the river water, and the striking mountains really do take your breath away. I grew up spending time in the Sierra Nevadas so I'm partial to dramatic views and Glacier definitely did not disappoint. When we come back to Montana, we decided we'd spend much, much more time exploring this beautiful park.

It gets rather gusty in Glacier National Park!

We've since caught half a game in Great Falls, before it got rained out. We were informed by a friendly local couple that rain-outs happen only about three times a year, so Ryan's been feeling completely cursed about the baseball portion of the trip. In the hot tub tonight, we talked about the Angels starting line-up, but also how kismet it was to have all met up here when we did. Until just a few weeks ago, we all had pretty serious day-jobs and were living in different cities. But now, Ryan's moving to Portland, Michael to Denver next week and me to god knows where. It's been such a treat to just enjoy the moment and the company in such a beautiful place before I fly back to CA to hit the home stretch of packing malaria meds and securing visas. Thanks for the memories Montana, see you soon.

Mandatory rain-delay beers

Even the butt of an RV is cute in Montana

South Dakota: Land of Kitchsy Roadside Stops and Haunting Beauty

2011-07-12T22:20:00.000-07:00

I figured I might just post a couple shots of South Dakota, and call it a day. But I had no idea what a hilarious and hauntingly beautiful place this is. We crossed a large chunk of it on the 90, the main thoroughfare through the state. From this highway you can see the world's largest bison head, the South Dakota Hall of Fame, the movie set from Dancing With Wolves and ride numerous life-size buffalo's, should you so fancy:

I call this one "Freebird"

Lucy the labradoodle, Ryan and I were driving in and out of rainstorms, and the scenery was stunningly beautiful with vivid green grasslands to either side for as far as the eye could see. It's definitely evident that we're approaching "Big Sky Country." When we'd traveled across much of the state, we turned off the main drag to do some exploring. Ryan was really enthusiastic to visit Badlands National Park, and I was so glad we did. The landscape was honestly unlike anything I'd ever seen.

Like no other place, so beautiful.

In 1935, Frank Lloyd Wright wrote, "I've been about the world a lot, and pretty much over our own country, but I was totally unprepared for that revelation called the Dakota Bad Lands... What I saw gave me an indescribable sense of elsewhere- a distant architecture, ethereal... an endless supernatural world more spiritual than earth but created out of it." He has quite a way with words...

"Artsy" grasslands shot.

Freebird 2.0

After stopping to see a prairie dog town, and driving the length of the park in stunned silence with only a bluegrass station to keep us company, we decided to take the long way to Mt. Rushmore and see Wounded Knee as well. After miles and miles of grasslands, feed lots and beautiful Black Hills in the distance, we arrived at Wounded Knee National Landmark. I'm fascinated by cemeteries and this one was no exception, it's a touching tribute to the unspeakable tragedy that happened in 1890.

Cemetery at Wounded Knee

We then drove and drove some more. Lucy was a trooperdoodle today for putting up with so many miles on the road and not getting sick. My iphone helpfully pointed out that it would be almost 3 hours between the two landmarks "with traffic." There is no traffic on South Dakota backroads. However, unfortunately the iphone neglected to foresee road work and detours and it took much longer. After fetch breaks for the dog, almost hitting a cow on a dirt road and plenty of hairpin turns later, we finally made it Keystone, the charming (read: tacky) town adjacent to the President heads. At this point, it was cloudy and rainy, and we joked after paying our $11 entrance fee that we probably wouldn't even be able to SEE the damn thing. And then, we rounded the corner and saw....

Oh yes, I see, Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, Lincoln

Nothing! Absolutely nothing! I'm so glad it took us hours to get here! At this point, I got a side cramp from laughing so hard. I've only been imagining this day since we started planning this road trip over Christmas. It's a good lesson for travelers, I suppose, in that you must remember there are infinite things you cannot control. I thought we had it bad but then I looked around and saw kids crying (Ryan suggested I get a pic for the blog but believe it or not, I do have a line), plenty of angry old folks and mostly people squinting and saying things like "oh! I think I see a silhouette of Lincoln's beard!".

Yeah Mount Rushmore! I'm so glad we drove 11 hours to get here! I'm never coming back, wuuu!

I'd come back to South Dakota anytime, but I'm over you, Mount Rushmore. Tomorrow we drive from Rapid City through a tip of Wyoming and finally, into Montana. I'm bearing down on two weeks left before I head to China, so I'm looking forward to thoroughly enjoying the beautiful scenery, and no more national landmarks.

Oregon Trail 2011 Begins in the Heartland...

2011-07-11T07:16:00.000-07:00

The American Heartland leg of the USA tour began in Chicago where I spent a delightful 20 minutes in the pick-up area at O'hare. If you don't get a little wistful watching twin sisters in their 80's joyously weep to be together again or see a young Dad introduce his parents to their new grandson then I'm not sure we'd be friends. Particularly when you plan on landing solo in a lot of foreign airports and train stations over the next year, family and friend reunions are special to watch. After getting a little weepy, I had a reunion of my own with my friend Christy from Orange County who graciously braved Chicago traffic to come get me.

Please don't make fun of my travel sandals.

Safari Emily takes on downtown Chicago.

We had an outrageous dinner at Girl and the Goat and a fun walk around Milenium Square Park. But the real fun began back at her and her husband Kyle's apartment when they busted out the greatest wedding gift I have ever seen:

Oh, you DON'T have a life-size blanket of yourself? Really??

The next morning, my brother Ryan and his Labradoodle Lucy picked me up to hit the road for operation Oregon Trail 2011. He's en route to Portland, OR with his dog, car and many personal belongings and I'm tagging along through Montana. As kids, we both played a lot of Oregon Trail so we have yet to tire of jokes like "we're approaching the Mississippi, should we ford the river or ferry across?" or "would eating at Sonic mean we die of dysentary?". He's also a minor-league baseball blogger when he's not molding young minds as a junior high math teacher so we're hitting plenty of games and chatting with players, coaches and scouts.

Before hitting the road, Ryan's first order of business was wrapping my bag in plastic and strapping it to the top of his car with just a bungee cord. When I reminded him the bag contains all of my belongings on earth, he said "it totally works Em, I trust it so much I put the coffee-maker up there across Ohio." I wished it well, and got in the car unsure if I was being incredibly trusting or incredibly stupid. Our first stop was Madison, Wisconsin to visit Ryan's friends from college Mike and Anna and their adorable baby Jonah.

Beautiful family

I have serious affection for the great state of Wisconsin, and for the upteenth time in my life, was mistaken for a local. I love the people, beer and cheese curds, so I figure the rest is just details. After a great visit, we took a meandering, beautiful drive through dairy country to Cedar Rapids, home to the Angels' Single A affiliate, the Kernels. From our charming room at the Econo lodge off the freeway, we can see a manufacturing company, parking lot and the General Mills cereal factory in the distance. It's quite a place.

Cool view of the field from the press box.

The baseball here has been successful, not so much for the Kernels who have lost the last 3, but Ryan got some good footage for his legions of fans on halosheaven.com. I've also done some scouting of my own and am happy to report that Leinenkugel's is on tap at the Kernels stadium, and that their mascot "Mr. Shucks" is pretty funny and boisterous. Now we head West through South Dakota, where hopefully we'll catch a Sioux Falls Fighting Pheasants game and, of course, Mt. Rushmore!

Cute Babies, Camping, Cousins and Catching Up in the Pacific NW

2011-07-07T02:21:00.000-07:00

Oregon was the perfect place to get my USA portion of this summer started. I grew up coming here to visit family and look forward to doing that much more now that my brother and sister-in-law are moving to Portland this summer. Fortunately, some friends of mine have moved here over the years as well and I got to spend time with Kristen, who I've known for so many years it makes me feel really old, and her adorable child Georgia on my first day up here. These ladies were some seriously cool company and we spent the day bookstore, vintage and shoe shopping, and visiting Reed University to check out where my sister-in-law will start teaching in the Fall.

How can you not fall in love with this face?

After a great night of pancakes for dinner and catching up with the lovely Gough family I headed down to Salem where my aunt and cousins live. While in Salem, I managed to eat Cook river salmon and get scolded at the gas station for attempting to clean my own windshield (it's only full service there, I forget every damn time). The next morning, we hit the road to drop my cousin Lena off at summer camp and do some camping of our own for the July 4th weekend.

Evening stroll with Auntie M and Mount Jefferson in the background.

The bad news was our search for a campsite along the Metolius river was unsuccessful, but the great news is we did what any self-respecting Oregonians would do and drove down a dirt road, found a clearing, pitched a tent and cracked a beer. From our tent, we could see Mount Jefferson and probably ten miles of wilderness in every direction all around us. It was definitely one of the coolest places I've ever spent the night, particularly because we were on the edge of a very serious burn area. Seeing the contrast between healthy forrest and charred landscape was fascinating. We managed to get closer to the river the next day, and meander our way back to civilization on the 4th in time for a great block party and impressive fireworks display. Personal firework shows are forbidden in dry California so watching a bunch of kids light up explosives was a special treat.

Laughing at the suckers with parking spots and fire pits...

Leaving Oregon was hard, but taking the Amtrak north through Washington was a beautiful ride and it was an absolutely stunning day in Seattle when I pulled in. I seem to luck out when I visit up here, the weather has been awesome. And so are the Vietnamese sandwiches! Make sure you visit little Saigon next time you're here, but skip the shrimp balls. Trust me. I visited Lindsay and Michael, two of my very dearest friends, and we have managed to eat, drink and do just a little bit of walking our way through this fair city. Lindsay and I met studying abroad in college so inevitably we look at old pictures of bad haircuts and even worse outfits we had years ago. I like to think we won't be looking at pictures from this visit in 6-8 years and think the same thing...

We studied in Bordeaux, France so it's fair to say I've consumed more red wine with her than with anyone else.

Pizza and red wine is a hard meal to go wrong with but the pies really are exceptional at Delancey in Ballard. Do not skip the butterscotch pudding or you will miss pure ecstasy in a ramekin. Earlier in the day, we also made it to a great brewpub in West Seattle for one of mother nature's true indulgences: a mid-afternoon beer.

Michael and I agreed the IPA's at Elliott Bay Brewery were very tasty.

I'm heading now to the midwest, where I will watch 8 minor-league baseball games in 9 days. Please pray for my sanity. It's always so sad to leave wonderful people in a beautiful place but it's great knowing I'll always come back.

I love you Seattle, see you again soon.

A Community of Travelers

2011-06-29T14:56:00.000-07:00

When I got serious about planning this trip last year, I started reading a lot of travel blogs. Some of them rubbed me the wrong way- they were either diary entries about getting drunk all the time, or people trying to sell their travels to publishers as some sort of unique emotional journey. But some blogs are really great, and something to aspire to. Weddings and Whitewater was a great blog- informative and interesting, had great photos and mostly, the writers seemed like nice people who loved to travel.

Julia and Tom, the engaged couple who write the blog, came back to the States this Spring and on a fluke I sent them an email welcoming them home and thanking them for the distraction during a long politically contentious winter for me in DC. Seemed a little weird, but I figured the worst they could do was ignore it and I could still shamelessly copy their Nepal and Thailand itineraries.

Sylvester and his creek.

What I didn't expect was to get really nice emails back from both of them, which led to conversations about everything from malaria meds to where to get a chocolate milkshake with my brother's dog while in Montana this summer. We had emailed back and forth a few times over the last couple months and when I randomly was going to be in Vermont, it seemed worth getting in touch to at least buy them a beer as a partial thank you for all the tips they've shared.

At the bar, I liked Julia instantly so much that I insisted on awkwardly one-arm hugging her while also shaking her hand while also spilling her drink. It's this patented move I have when I'm really trying to impress someone with my smoothness...

Late afternoon in Stowe, VT

We sat down, I thanked them for giving their internet stalker a chance and after a couple beers, I had tons of great information to go off of and felt like I made two great new friends. Our conversation reminded me how much I loved meeting all kinds of people while on the road the last time I was able to do some extended traveling in 2004. Meeting fellow travelers takes you many steps beyond square one; when you've already established a mutual love of lifestyle, it opens conversation up to all kinds of subjects. Sometimes they know your life story or not even your name, but the conversation topics are almost always interesting and helpful.

Julia asked where I was staying and while I had booked a place that night with credit card points, I didn't have any plans the following night. She offered their place and I kind of waffled a bit, not wanting to be a bother. At that point, Tom said, "if you're going to be traveling, you need to learn how to let people help you out." I believe this is what people call a "light-bulb" moment. He was so right, and I was reminded yet again that I'm working on transitioning into full-time traveler mode (you might be shocked to learn this is somewhat different than full-time political staffer mode).

Tom and I

The next night, I pulled into their place in time for a mango smoothie, a creek trip with their awesome dog Sylvester, and some delicious curry. I'm such a city-girl right now, I was completely transfixed by how beautiful their town, highway and house was. I found myself lulled into silence by the frogs and crickets and fireflies and campfire. After a great night, I slept as soundly as I have in a long time and woke up right around dawn just long enough to marvel at what a beautiful place I was in before drifting back to sleep for another couple hours.

Julia wanted to be sure and let everyone know that she always wears a silk robe. Always.

After a delicious breakfast and a round of less awkward hugs (at least for me), I headed on my way. I hope to return the hospitable favor to them one day on the West coast, but I know them having me over was nothing more than travelers lending a hand, or in this case a bed. It's great to be part of a community who's door is always open.

$500.18

2011-06-22T22:33:00.000-07:00

I was really, really overwhelmed by the generosity I was shown when leaving DC. When my lease was up, I stayed with a few different friends. When I was hungry or thirsty, many people took me out to celebrate and mostly, almost every single person I encountered was supportive and inquisitive about the trip. It totally blew my mind.

And as if I could be any more flabbergasted by the generosity of the human spirit, my friends Jen and Dave put together a happy hour in honor of my departure. While chatting with folks and drinking too many margaritas, Jen handed me a card from the group. Inside was a thoughtful, funny message wishing me well and a check. A check for $500 dollars and 18 cents.

To say I was surprised would be a serious understatement. I figured a couple beers and maybe a shot of tequila would send me on my way, not such an absurdly generous gesture. Despite what you see on cable news, federal employees are not rolling in dough and vacation days. These people work hard, have their own financial priorities and in many cases, mouths to feed other than their own. As I was thinking all of this, I did what any socially-awkward person would do and just stood there like a jack-ass.

I could have said "OMFG THANK YOU WTF?" but I didn't. And my reaction will go down as one of my most embarrassing moments ever. But I like to think I still have time to make the money count. I know the donations to my trip were meant to be entirely supportive, but if a lot of people came together to pass along a big check, then a lot of people should benefit from that generosity.

I don't have an exact idea of what I will do with this money. A couple friends have given me some great suggestions that I will think carefully about but in the meantime, this is what I'm sure of:

1) I will not use this money to get drunk in Thailand.
2) I will use this money when it could go a really, really long way.
3) I will not use this money on pirated DVD's in China.
4) I will use this money to help someone out, or maybe just buy them (me?) a drink.
5) I will not use this money on knock-off Prada purses in Vietnam.

To anyone in DC reading this-- just, thank you. Seriously. For reals. There's nothing else to say except I really appreciate the gesture, am inspired by it, and hope to pay it forward on the road.

Decompressing in the Northeast

2011-06-17T21:00:00.000-07:00

Leaving DC was a bit of a roller coaster, and something I can't quite process yet. I've spent the last few wonderful days putzing around in a Subaru and taking it down a notch in Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont. As a Westerner, I'd never spent any time in this neck of the country and while a few days is hardly enough time to fully appreciate a place as beautiful as this, I do feel like I got a sense of the region, largely thanks to my love of local pubs, radio stations and highways.

Higgins Beach, ME

After a lobster roll and Geary summer ale in Portland, I headed down to Scarborough to find the lovely Higgins Beach Inn. My stay there got the solo traveling started right with a $50 adorable room and the best blueberry pancakes I've had in awhile. Sadly, Maine was the quickest part of this trip and I headed to Conway, NH the next morning to ~~outlet shop~~ hike.

You're pretty, New Hampshire

I became fond of the Chamber of Commerce welcome booths in town centers so I stopped at Conway's on my way in and ended up chatting with the elderly greeter who could not believe I was all the way from California. She gave me a map of the outlet mall and a ranger guide to local hikes and I was on my way. The next morning, I was not at my most prepared and organized when I packed a water bottle and chocolate bar for what I thought would be a quick jaunt through the woods. My quick jaunt became quite a journey thanks to user error and I ended up sore and rather parched at the end of it about 8 hours later. I'm rethinking my minimalist approach when it comes to hydration. I couldn't remember the last time I spent so much time on a trail, though, without seeing a soul. Almost 9 hours of me, mosquitos and rain. It was wonderful.

A proper lunch.

I decided to drive down to Woodstock, VT to check out Sugarbush Farms. I had heard plenty about this place and felt like taking a meandering route to Burlington. And... what other excuse do you need to visit Woodstock, VT? The drive down was lovely, it's biker week in New Hampshire so I bonded with some dudes sporting serious leather. It's a little noisy on the road, but makes for interesting entertainment. The highways here are gorgeous, and just a little different from the super-roads I'm used to in DC and Southern CA. Sugarbush is a charming little place that is excellent at disguising the mail order mega business it really is. After sampling the afternoon away, I snacked at a picnic bench outside and it really started to sink in that I now live off the beaten track. I've had bouts of anxiousness this week where I'm bound and determined to toil away on some project, but the beauty of Vermont makes it easy to go with the flow and do nothing but appreciate the scenery around you.

View from Sugarbush hilltop

With the local 90's pop station blaring, I drove to Burlington to finally see Lake Champlain, eat some Ben and Jerry's and drink some Magic Hat. The city is quirky, beautiful and feels so completely clean. I'm not one to camp out in shopping malls but I had to make an emergency hour-long stop to charge my phone so I speak with authority when I say the J. Crew and Crabtree and Evelyn stores in Burlington seem great. I made a mental note to buy a car charger for my phone and headed off for a beer with my new internet friends, Julia and Tom.

Julia and Tom deserve their own post later, so I'll just say it was really great to meet them in person and always nice to have a beer with people who know the area. I'm back in Boston now to celebrate my brother's birthday, and I head back to CA tomorrow. It's interesting being just a week into the trip and already feeling the highs and lows of solo travel. I've been relishing the time to myself to get organized and think some things through but I've been struck by waves of solitude and the effort it often takes to make connections with strangers. But if New Hampshire is any indication, bikers are easy people to break the ice with. I'll be sure and look for Hell's Angels when I get to China.

Last Day on the Hill

2011-06-10T06:59:00.000-07:00

On my last day of work on the Hill, I can’t help but think of my first day of work in this office. A couple weeks before that day, I had no idea I’d be starting a job in Washington and was finishing up at UCSB, working full-time as a Concierge.

Capps Crew Rooftop Happy Hour, circa 2006

Long story short, an old intern adviser remembered me (thanks Karin!), knew I was graduating soon, knew I was interested in eventually moving out to DC, and thought I might be a good fit in the office. I got a call, I flew out a few days later, I chatted with folks, got a Potbelly sandwich and was in the dressing room of H&M on my way to the airport when my first Chief of Staff called and offered me the job. I flew back to SB, quit my hotel gig, took some finals, drove my stuff home down PCH, and moved here. It was a total whirlwind.

I’ve been culling pictures of some of my favorite memories here over the years. Working in this industry can get cranky and stressful, but there are also really good days. Days when you think, I can’t believe I work here. A few days like that for me…

WASP Congressional Gold Medal Ceremony
We had a couple constituents come out for this, and Lois presented the medal to one woman later who couldn’t make the trip. The WASP’s were female pilots during WWII who tested planes, flew them to staging grounds around the country and were pretty much total bad-asses. My grandmother joined the Navy in WWII, and meeting these remarkable women who in some ways reminded me of her was an experience I’ll never forget. At the ceremony, (then) Speaker Pelosi recited lyrics to a song the women would sing in the barracks. My favorite line- “if you have daughters, teach them to fly.”

Full House in the Capitol Visitor Center, such a special day.

'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' Enrollment Ceremony
Passing DADT was a big deal. Like a seriously big deal, thanks to the heightened stress of the lame-duck session, the looming loss of the Democratic majority, and mostly because gay rights still have a long way to go in this country. Lois’s district included at the time a think-tank that had been working specifically on this issue for many years. When I assumed LGBT rights in my legislative portfolio, I was lucky enough to be in contact with these academics and lobbyists about the statistics-driven work they did and help bring attention to it in Congress. The added bonus was the Director of the think tank was one of my favorite professors in college. Attending the raucous and emotional ceremony, and shamelessly posing for a photo with him and Lois afterwards, was a really cool moment when I was struck by how powerful it is to be a teeny part of something so much bigger than yourself.

Shameless Emily, DADT Lobbyist Chris, HRC Operator Karin, Rep. Capps and Professor Belkin

Healthcare
What can you really say about Healthcare that hasn’t been said? It was epic, and the vitriol and emotion present in the halls of Congress was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I was booed and called all kinds of interesting insults coming out of the Metro. We got a plastic fetus in the mail, and our email and phone lines were filled with all kinds of people screaming “READ THE BILL!” and other slightly more graphic suggestions. To say that I’m glad things have calmed down somewhat since then would be an understatement.

Meeting John Lewis
Meeting someone like John Lewis, on the night he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, was a high point on the Hill, and frankly a high point in life. The man is an American icon and hero, and has devoted his life to equality and justice. Even the bad lighting and awkward pose can’t take this picture away from me; I’ll treasure it always.

I look like a shiny giant, but I'm standing next to John Lewis.

Inauguration Day
I hadn’t slept in quite awhile, I had a house full of guests sharing one bathroom, and we walked and stood for about 17 hours. It was awesome, and an important day to reflect on as time goes by and I intermittently disagree with the President. Days that are all about possibility and our better angels are great days.

Some Capps folks on the platform the day after the ceremony.

Obama's view (minus the millions)

Tomorrow I fly to Boston with just a backpack. I’ll do some beach-walking in Maine, hiking in New Hampshire and cheese-tasting in Vermont the following week. Then I head home to CA before the road-trip leg of this summer gets started. I’m ready to leave DC but it’s with a heavy heart and a whole lotta memories.

Cooing at a Serval cub, another random perk of this job.

Frequently Asked Questions

2011-06-01T12:41:00.000-07:00

Will you start a blog?
Yes. After thinking about it, a blog actually seemed like a good way for folks (ok, my mom) to passively keep in touch. And travel blogs were a huge source of help and inspiration to me while I was planning my own trip. I thought it would be fun to contribute to that community in some way.

I didn’t realize you were independently wealthy/Congressional staffers made so much money/you’re having an affair with a wealthy foreign diplomat/you won a lawsuit. (How much does all of this cost??)
A lot, but not as much as you’d think. I’m budgeting about 20 grand for this trip, and have a smaller portion of that tied up in short-term investments to cash out when I get back and need to do things like buy pots and furniture and clothing suitable for going out in public. I plan on being gone for about 12 – 18 months, which generally averages to about $45/day. I’d like to find odd jobs, I plan on WWOOF-ing for periods of time and I will be generally roughing it, although it seems worth mentioning that I do plan on bathing. I saved this money teeny bits at a time for awhile now by eating lots of rice and beans, living with a roommate in a basement, staying in more than I would have liked, putting a moratorium on all unnecessary shopping and picking up side income projects. It was all entirely unglamorous.

You’re going alone? Why?
Why not? I hope to meet folks along the way and visit with friends who can meet me at various airports around the world.

Do you have a book deal? Is this like Eat, Pray, Love?
HAHA! No, definitely not.

Where exactly are you going?
I start in China, and will move through SE Asia into India and Nepal. From there, I’d like to fly to Israel, and make my way south through Africa. But all of this could change- describing this trip as “flexible” is a serious understatement.

What does your Mother think?
She has been a great sport; I will miss her and my Dad quite a bit.

What are you bringing?
Not a lot. I’ll probably post a full gear list before I go, but right now I’m still thinking about really important things like how much underwear I should bring...

Will you miss me/Mexican food/Mammoth/driving/being barefoot in a bathroom/a sense of community/running into old friends on the street/your own bed/baking peppermint brownies?
Yes! Immeasurably.

First Post-- Thoughts on leaving DC

2011-05-26T15:49:00.000-07:00

It's very surreal to actually be leaving DC so soon! Even though I've practically been living out of a pack for months now, and have been planning (saving) for this trip for ages, the physical act of leaving is giving me pause. Everything I own fits in two boxes, safely stowed in Orange County, and on my back. It's an adjustment.

While I ultimately decided to take a break from working in politics, I know how much I'll miss the Hill. I feel tremendously grateful to have worked here for the last 5 years, during a unique time in our history, and for a woman I wholeheartedly respect. Lois and my co-workers have kept my overall perspective of politics optimistic, and that's quite a gift. Without Congress as a back-drop, I wonder how my politics will change. I've been thinking about how I've evolved here politically, but it's a work in progress.

And then there's the people I will miss like Dave, my roommate for the last three years. This guy has been absurdly patient with my oddities-- I don't think he'll miss having typhoid vaccines in the fridge, or a roommate who stays in on another Friday night to save $$ and research trekking companies in Nepal. I realized over the last 10 years, I've lived in 11 different places with 23 roommates. A couple of them have really sucked; most of them have been awesome. It's weird to realize the roommate/group house era is one I'm likely leaving behind with this move. That constitutes an entire book (23 Roommates Later?), let alone a paragraph in a blog post but I will say that memories with roommates represent many of my favorite times over the last few years. I will miss family dinners, built-in support systems, animal menageries, learning all kinds of recipes, hearing about first dates who become life partners and drinking immeasurable quantities of alcohol at kitchen tables and on stoops, porches, patios and roof-tops. Things I will not miss include but are not limited to: roommates who cook meatballs directly on the oven rack, roommates who mistake your bed for theirs, roommates who seem to grow hair just to litter it around the sink, roommates who let 11 pounds of cilantro rot in the fridge. For the record, Dave is none of these latter roommates, and I will really miss seeing him everyday.

Summertime is still coming together but I think it will be pretty fantastic- helping my bro and sister-in-law move out of Boston (and back to the West Coast!), avocado and citrus eating in CA, minor-league baseball following in Montana and Iowa and mostly catching up with favorite people in OC, Santa Barbara, Portland, Seattle and a variety of other exotic locales (like Wisconsin.). And then flying to China on August 2nd to start this adventure once and for all.

I feel like a real lucky duck to have so much to look forward to.