tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79018209168425885382024-03-14T11:48:10.231+08:00Off in SingaporeJasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-450211516660230632011-05-15T20:26:00.000+08:002011-05-15T20:26:45.316+08:00I just heard the washing machine sing it's happy little laundry song for the last time.<br />
Maybe I'll come back someday and hear it sing again.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-24976269340283887422011-05-11T22:47:00.008+08:002011-05-15T13:40:09.935+08:00Korean HighlightsI'm going to be obscure while stating the facts. Just so you know. <br /><br /><br />While in Korea, I...<br /><br />Dined on drug sushi and fermented rice wine and a boatload of different kinds of side dishes.<br /><br />Cut my hair and joined a cult (a liberal use of the word). We all had to wear pink pajamas and sit in hot rooms on mats, then eat eggs and drink plum jam tea.<br /><br />Biked through a city that reminded me of home! Mountains, how do I love thee?! Let me count the ways...<br /><br />Lived with a girl at my guesthouse who has been in Korea for three months just because she likes K-pop. I thought she was talking about Kapap at first, but nope. Those are two very different things.<br /> <br />Hung out at the Hi Seoul Festival and watched a man ride a bicycle backwards and play the clarinet at the same time. There were also lots of artsy performances by people with knives and cabbages, people who hopped on one foot and wriggled their arms, and people wearing pink alien costumes.<br /><br />Met up with an accountant from Miami (a spontaneous occurrence) and a German student from Tunisia (as planned) to see the sites. <br /><br />Did Jun-sanctioned things (e.g. night-bowling, amusement-parking, prank-calling, and coffee-drinking).<br /><br />Visited Chad and Hyeji at KAIST to say, "Hey, how's life? Remember Olin?"<br /><br />Bought a cashew necklace.<br /><br /><br />That's the general gist. I loved Korea. It reminded me of Colorado, if Colorado had lots of rice and kimchi and a couple palaces. The people were super friendly. One woman gave me extra blood noodle sausage and liver because I was a foreigner. <span style="font-style:italic;">Thank you?</span> The weather was cool and the rain only drizzled. I could saunter about without an umbrella and not become drenched (just very damp). This was an extra nice feature since I didn't have an umbrella. The mountains were lovely and the hills filled my heart with the sound of music. The country gets bonus points for being the home of some old friends. If I knew Korean, I think I could have lived there for awhile. <br /><br />Unfortunately, with my dearth of language knowledge and plethora of future obligations, I had to bid the dear ol' land farewell this morning. Perhaps we'll meet again.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-15397141099241253212011-05-11T16:45:00.002+08:002011-05-11T16:45:59.693+08:00A strange thoughtIn a week's time, I'll be standing on New Zealand.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-15486182847451602902011-05-09T22:06:00.007+08:002011-05-10T07:58:26.580+08:00Hangin' with the LocalsThat sort of summarizes my recent, relaxed travel style. It's an excellent way to see a country because it minimizes foreign-city-stress and maximizes meaningful-human-connection. The human connection part is my favorite. Strange sites are dandy, but ten times the fun with friends. Case in point:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L5QySrdFw0M/Tcf9uVJ7m0I/AAAAAAAAAGs/8_3hYYmOAjs/s1600/1_guard_jump.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L5QySrdFw0M/Tcf9uVJ7m0I/AAAAAAAAAGs/8_3hYYmOAjs/s400/1_guard_jump.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604727233680481090" /></a><br /><br />Jun and Hyeji were my token locals in Korea, and it was quite relaxing to have them show me around, order food in restaurants, and put me on the right trains and buses. So relaxing in fact, that I didn't pay nearly enough attention to all those tiresome details. <br /><br />When I ventured forth on my own on Sunday, I immediately got lost. I found a parade instead of my guesthouse. I had to wander the streets for an hour to orient myself and manged to try all the wrong directions before heading in the right one. My lack of language knowledge kept me from finding and ordering food. I had to resort to eating whatever someone else was eating, since finger pointing proved essential for communication. The past two days have been fun, but they have definitely heightened my appreciation for local pals who are willing to serve as guides and friendly companions. I toast you with my rice tea. Kamsahamnida a bazillion!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-30249215867696397832011-05-09T18:00:00.000+08:002011-05-09T18:00:01.227+08:00Three More Thai Curiosities<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thai money has decoy numbers on it to keep foreigners confused - isn't that a "100" on the 20-bill? Isn't that a "900" on the 100?</td></tr>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sm1VXfiFAwI/TcaaNLSpZGI/AAAAAAAABdE/cdn8cSHk-m0/s1600/DSC_3514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="314" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sm1VXfiFAwI/TcaaNLSpZGI/AAAAAAAABdE/cdn8cSHk-m0/s320/DSC_3514.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XWc9G4R8Y08/TcaZofHzqUI/AAAAAAAABdA/5GEt6JqCvpk/s1600/DSC_3423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XWc9G4R8Y08/TcaZofHzqUI/AAAAAAAABdA/5GEt6JqCvpk/s320/DSC_3423.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">keeps me up at night</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign seen above a toilet</td></tr>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YSaGw3hvxms/TcaZRKIZIuI/AAAAAAAABc8/jTpnnCuQiLw/s1600/DSC_3435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YSaGw3hvxms/TcaZRKIZIuI/AAAAAAAABc8/jTpnnCuQiLw/s320/DSC_3435.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-43036722788194247042011-05-08T17:41:00.004+08:002011-05-08T20:53:21.037+08:00What would you do, if you had a Garden of Eden?A highlight of the Phuket trip was our day trip to the Phi Phi islands. They are fantastically beautiful, complete with soft beaches, snorkeling with schools of rainbow-colored fish, and huge gnarled limestone cliffs plunging into the depths of the crystalline blue sea.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qoBjWa7Y0os/TcZWITkQP1I/AAAAAAAABco/ism-x3dO6os/s1600/DSC_3383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qoBjWa7Y0os/TcZWITkQP1I/AAAAAAAABco/ism-x3dO6os/s400/DSC_3383.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">gorgeous.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>But, while I had brought my camera expecting to take pictures of these things, I found my lens often pointing at something else: tourists.<br />
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Our tour's first stopping point, Maya Bay, was featured in the movie <i>The Beach</i>, where (supposedly -- I haven't seen the movie) Leonardo DiCaprio and his friends discover it to be an island paradise unvisited by tourists and occupied by only a few people.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: -50px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5c/Maya_Bay_Thailand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5c/Maya_Bay_Thailand.jpg" width="320" /></a></td> <td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vFxD4sxE7OI/TcXuzwzXAKI/AAAAAAAABck/DSexx70YpBM/s1600/DSC_3376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vFxD4sxE7OI/TcXuzwzXAKI/AAAAAAAABck/DSexx70YpBM/s400/DSC_3376.JPG" /></a></td> </tr>
<tr> <td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leo saw it like this.</td> <td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is how it was when we were there. (<i>to be fair, the scenery was still there too, only partially obscured by flocks of tourists and boats)</i></td> </tr>
</tbody></table>Our 35-passenger tour boat, as it turns out, is not the only one that goes there every day. There are so many boats that there isn't enough beach space to park them all at once -- the boats have to go to shore, drop off their passengers, and then leave the bay for a while to allow other boats in. 45 minutes later, they come back and pick up the passengers, who have been frolicking about on the beach and in the water, smiling, getting sunburned and taking pictures of each other doing silly things.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp4gTRj6SKM/TcZcIraPhkI/AAAAAAAABcs/urDZ1Ty0qbU/s1600/DSC_3371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="184" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp4gTRj6SKM/TcZcIraPhkI/AAAAAAAABcs/urDZ1Ty0qbU/s320/DSC_3371.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">like, for example, lying in the sand and getting sand in their bikini. <br />
For some reason this was a popular thing to do.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Of course, that's exactly what we were doing, too! Later, when we went snorkeling, I'm sure we looked a lot like this school of floating bodies:<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wtVLSERNrYE/TcXuLb8WFgI/AAAAAAAABcc/VmlU92qw3EA/s1600/DSC_3420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wtVLSERNrYE/TcXuLb8WFgI/AAAAAAAABcc/VmlU92qw3EA/s640/DSC_3420.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They're not dead; they're just looking at fish.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The one thing we didn't participate in was oohing and aahing at the monkeys. "At Monkey Beach," the tour guide had told us before departure, "please don't be disappointed if we don't see any monkeys. They spend most of their time up on the ridge, and they only come down when they're hungry." <i>Interesting</i>, I thought. <i>What food do they get down by the water? Do they catch fish or eat crustaceans?</i><br />
<br />
Of course not, silly. They come down to get watermelon from the tourists.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0uYUt8rcyeM/TcXuWvI9l0I/AAAAAAAABcg/WJpyETxjmnE/s1600/DSC_3426.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="315" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0uYUt8rcyeM/TcXuWvI9l0I/AAAAAAAABcg/WJpyETxjmnE/s320/DSC_3426.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bunch of monkeys. Most are on a boat, with cameras. There also some in the trees, eating watermelon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rose and I didn't take much part in this particular activity, since in Singapore we've seen our share of monkeys, done our share of oohing and aahing at them, and taken our share of pictures of them. The other tourists payed them a seemingly inordinate amount of attention, scrambling over each other to reach out their watermelon towards the monkeys, or, failing that, chucking watermelon pieces at the monkeys. The monkeys had learned to catch pretty well!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As silly and numerous as the tourists were, I know I enjoyed being one of them. I even think I grew from the experience of visiting this beautiful place. I'm impressed that the island plays host to so many tourists each day and stays as beautiful as it is.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I don't know what restrictions are in place to limit the impact of the tourists on the island and ocean environments, or what maintenance is done to keep it clean. I don't know how much the area has lost by allowing us to flock in in such large numbers. It seems to me though, that if the system can support this level of tourism indefinitely, then tourism is a fantastic use of the area. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, what would you do if you found such a beautiful place? Would you keep it to yourself, for your better enjoyment and to make sure it remains pristine? Or, at some risk to the environment, would you let others come and see it?</div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-91636553233231832472011-05-07T00:46:00.002+08:002011-05-07T01:04:04.052+08:00Phuket: a brief summary1. <b>The beach is awesome, and </b><br />
2. <b>Relatively nice hotels are worth the higher price.</b><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I knew these two truths before Jason and I departed for Phuket last Sunday, but they were impressively confirmed during our stay. I’m tempted to say, “having learned from our Malaysia trip, we booked a nicer hotel to stay at,” but that would be a lie. We booked Boomerang Village well before Spring Break, having done some internet research to confirm its excellence. And excellent it was. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2yp3k4NOMN4/TcQe0aVR__I/AAAAAAAABbY/IFEMrK6Tu1I/s1600/DSC_3488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2yp3k4NOMN4/TcQe0aVR__I/AAAAAAAABbY/IFEMrK6Tu1I/s400/DSC_3488.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our 'room' at Boomerang Village, which had an ocean view out of its tinted sliding-class (did I say 'class'? I meant 'glass') doors</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cy-Dd-rYdWg/TcQdwEC2TgI/AAAAAAAABbQ/Qjzze28A1h8/s1600/DSC_3320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cy-Dd-rYdWg/TcQdwEC2TgI/AAAAAAAABbQ/Qjzze28A1h8/s320/DSC_3320.JPG" width="220" /></a></td><td><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2xXfh6yZkg4/TcQd_lixtiI/AAAAAAAABbU/1_0UhP3i6nI/s1600/DSC_3332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2xXfh6yZkg4/TcQd_lixtiI/AAAAAAAABbU/1_0UhP3i6nI/s320/DSC_3332.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" colspan="2" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">An unreal number of orchids adorned the clean, pleasantly decorated, air-conditioned room</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That ocean was not far away at all, accessible at the lovely Kata beach. Here we enjoyed boogey boarding, general swimming, and reading, all of which were delightful. Furthermore, we went on a day-long tour that took us to three nearby islands, two of which are among the “Phi Phi” islands. More lovely beaches, plus snorkeling amongst many colorful fishes and pretty coral.<br />
<br />
More on them later, I hope, but here's a taste for now:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: -20px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2E0N4gI4Cfc/TcQfz6gstbI/AAAAAAAABbc/WRQ6czCoAL0/s0/tiny_island_panorama.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="104" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2E0N4gI4Cfc/TcQfz6gstbI/AAAAAAAABbc/WRQ6czCoAL0/s640/tiny_island_panorama.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you find Rose?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>nilgolodhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00375374486264297890noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-37811482798989370362011-05-06T17:29:00.001+08:002011-05-06T17:31:37.049+08:00Mangrove Kayaking Adventure<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Note: This post was written April 10th, but we saved it to wait until the kayaking company facebooked our photos to use in the post. The photos never came [ :( ], so here's the post without them.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div>A full month ago, Jason and I bought Scoopons (or Groupons or some-other-ons) which scored us a 50% discount on kayaking around Pulau Ubin. Now, if your memory serves you well, you may remember that Ubin is an <a href="http://olinsingapore.blogspot.com/2011/02/island-less-developed.html">undeveloped little island</a> off the eastern coast of Singapore’s big island. Last time, we biked around it and had a great time, so we figured kayaking would be awesome, too. After a bit of trouble reserving a time, we eventually had our plans set: on Wednesday, April 6<sup>th</sup>, at 9:30 in the morning, Jason and Rose would embark on their kayaking adventure!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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While 9:30 in the morning is a delightful time to go kayaking, 6 in the morning is not such a great time to wake up. Yes, I know there’s a long time between 6 and 9:30 – 3.5 hours, in fact, 2.5 of which were spent taking public transportation and bumboat to Ubin. We were also supposed to get there 15 minutes early, and wanted to eat breakfast. Hence the early start-time.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
If you’ve read earlier posts, you also know how well I deal with wake-up times substantially earlier than my normally scheduled wake-ups. Or really, any mornings not preceded by a full night’s sleep. I was pretty out of it and a fair bit grumpy, but Jason, being a much better sufferer of sleep deprivation, made sure we got there as planned.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
Once on the island, we were greeted by a friendly fellow who took us to prepare for our adventure. We changed and applied sunscreen, and I even got to wear a spiffy hat another adventurer had left behind! Unfortunately, this approximately 15-minute interval was sufficiently long for me to score about a half-dozen fresh mosquito bites on my legs. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Be duly impressed when I say now that despite my sleep deprivation and itchy legs, the kayaking trip was awesome.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
I had the pleasure of sharing a tandem kayak with Jason. I sat in front, and so Jason matched my strokes. This meant that I could do weak girl paddling in the front and still accelerate at a fun rate due to Jason’s much more adept, stronger paddling behind me. In essence, I had all of the advantages of a motorized boat with none of the noise to scare the wildlife away! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
We kayaked through mangroves, which are really quite excellent. Superb, even. We didn’t end up seeing too many animals, though we did get to see plenty of mudskippers and a big sea eagle. And the rest of the island’s wildlife is represented in Singapore’s Bird Park and Zoo, so we’ve at least seen the animals in captivity, if not in the wild. Our tour guide was informative and fun, and the approximately two-hour adventure was well-worth the considerable effort. Next time I might go for the 11:30 tour, though.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
Afterwards, Jason and I discovered that our legs had turned marvelous shades of pink where they’d seen more than their fair share of sun. Three days later, my shins still hurt when I touch them, but at least now I know that a sun-burnt mosquito bite does not itch <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><o:p></o:p></div>nilgolodhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00375374486264297890noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-69150260683499781212011-05-04T09:53:00.007+08:002011-05-08T22:11:02.805+08:00Transportation Cripple<div class="MsoNormal">To all parents and future parents, alike: <br /><br />Hear ye, hear ye.<br /><br />When you are considering the well-being of your progeny and contemplating which dangerous ventures to allow and which to ban, think of the future. Envision the moment when your son/daughter happens to be in a far off land short of cash and with nothing but a pair of worn out sandals on his/her feet and a longing to visit a museum burning in his/her heart. There is a motorbike at your offspring's disposal. Is this the solution to all his/her woes?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /><a name='more'></a><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">NO. It is not. Because you have forbidden your beloved youngster from owning a motorcycle at home, where the roads are wide, traffic laws are obeyed, and there are more cows than people. How then could the untried traveler manage to weave and dodge through the tangles of erratic driving with a foreign vehicle? Alas and alack. It is too much. Your son/daughter will manage to steer or accelerate, but be unable to do both at once. He/she will make the owner of the motorbike so nervous that eventually, the dream of independent transportation is abandoned and he/she is left at the mercy of taxis, motorbike taxis, and bemos. Is this what you really want? To make your child into a transportation cripple?<br /><br />I think not!<br /><br />He/she just might decide to walk for four hours to get where he/she wants to go. But when his/her feet are blistered and sore, how will he/she get home? He/she will be racing against time, hoping beyond all hope to see the temple on the cliff, as the sun melts into the ocean. Will your lack of foresight cause the dream to be dashed to the pavement?<br /><br />Perhaps.<br /><br />Or a good man might appear as an answer to prayer, willing to drive the despondent walker wherever he/she wanted to go. A friendly, kind father with a wife and two little sons at home might overhear his/her negotiations with a motorbike taxi driver and decide to help out the traveler simply because it is in his power to do so and not for any monetary gain. He might transport your weary child on the back of his bike and pay the temple entrance fee and feed him/her dinner and drop him/her off at home. The encounter might cause your son/daughter to think carefully about his/her own actions and wonder: if the situation were reversed, would he/she be as kind and generous to a perfect stranger? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GbpgBrEyL9o/TcC72f_znSI/AAAAAAAAAGc/G-v35U0UNE4/s1600/1_friend.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GbpgBrEyL9o/TcC72f_znSI/AAAAAAAAAGc/G-v35U0UNE4/s400/1_friend.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602684481425349922" /></a><br /><br />So if you do not perfectly equip your offspring to be fiercely independent, leaving him/her reliant on others, perhaps you are doing him/her a great service. Your son/daughter will be able to be blessed by the generosity of others and in turn, seek ways to help strangers around him/her.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">EDIT: </span>I forgot to point out that I <span style="font-style:italic;">still</span> think learning how to drive a motorbike is a valuable life skill. It just so happens that not knowing how to drive one has its positive side, too. But I <span style="font-style:italic;">still</span> want a motorcycle license.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-2207977111415379782011-04-30T10:24:00.017+08:002011-05-04T10:55:47.661+08:00Pictures<div class="MsoNormal">It's been eight days since I left Bali. Since then, I've had two final presentations and traveled to South Korea by way of KL. I don't really remember what I was going to write about the island. So, I've decided just to share some haunting images from long, long ago (i.e. last week). <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W2lEcbN4BM0/TbtzTWbk76I/AAAAAAAAAFc/uWYAs-HZXmc/s1600/1_kuta_signs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W2lEcbN4BM0/TbtzTWbk76I/AAAAAAAAAFc/uWYAs-HZXmc/s400/1_kuta_signs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601197337841299362" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kuta. A city built for tourists.</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /><a name='more'></a><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qiytlp0ZeFk/TcCq8q6MdKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/eQzDyDxiLJI/s1600/1_sunset.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qiytlp0ZeFk/TcCq8q6MdKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/eQzDyDxiLJI/s400/1_sunset.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602665895736145058" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's hard to beat a sunset on the beach. (Unless of course, it's a sunset over the Rocky Mountains. But since this is about the beach, let's just pretend that those sunsets are the best.)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C2lHQNLEI7U/TcCrh5eonvI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Eo7nwu7J3fk/s1600/1_farm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C2lHQNLEI7U/TcCrh5eonvI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Eo7nwu7J3fk/s400/1_farm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602666535302242034" /></a><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farming in the hill country. Backbreaking and beautiful.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y2BYhdXZJFg/TcCsazjGo9I/AAAAAAAAAF0/EZ38BNbqFCw/s1600/1_temple.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y2BYhdXZJFg/TcCsazjGo9I/AAAAAAAAAF0/EZ38BNbqFCw/s400/1_temple.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602667512962917330" /></a><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Temple on the lake. The volcano we hiked is behind on the right and totally engulfed by clouds.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n35OPXi4-pc/TcCtIaYFACI/AAAAAAAAAF8/2m2rc_L85JU/s1600/1_statue.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n35OPXi4-pc/TcCtIaYFACI/AAAAAAAAAF8/2m2rc_L85JU/s400/1_statue.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602668296479768610" /></a><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Funky statue with a spirit living inside him. The Balinese people are predominantly Hindus.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XCcFWhpBQa0/TcCtnQ3F6UI/AAAAAAAAAGE/74xfEzNC-gk/s1600/1_offerings.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 336px; height: 383px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XCcFWhpBQa0/TcCtnQ3F6UI/AAAAAAAAAGE/74xfEzNC-gk/s400/1_offerings.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602668826501441858" /></a><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Offerings were left on the sidewalks everyday for the spirits.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YyLk05GrMA8/TcDAFld8uZI/AAAAAAAAAGk/g3DPUUltMkM/s1600/1_chicks_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YyLk05GrMA8/TcDAFld8uZI/AAAAAAAAAGk/g3DPUUltMkM/s400/1_chicks_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602689138638502290" /></a><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little chicks, cruising in a cage on the back of a bicycle, and sold in plastic bags.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0xzLIBARgug/TcCvSSHm6GI/AAAAAAAAAGU/RIBlkZKx_0o/s1600/1_jump.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0xzLIBARgug/TcCvSSHm6GI/AAAAAAAAAGU/RIBlkZKx_0o/s400/1_jump.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602670665085151330" /></a><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How I feel about Bali.</td></tr></tbody></table></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-59666542530408374662011-04-27T22:32:00.008+08:002011-05-04T09:07:50.154+08:00Bali: Island of Beaches, Leeches, and Motorbike ScreechesI went to Bali over Easter primarily because my brother seemed enthused about surfing there. I'm all for recommendations from trusted sources. Besides, he has to live vicariously through someone, right?<br /><br />It was an awesome experience. I don't quite know how to encapsulate it. Like Gaul, the trip was divided into three parts. <br /><br />Part 1: Kuta and Legian Beaches<br />We surfed and hung out at the beach. We paid exorbitant tourist prices. We were continually attacked by vendors hoping to sell us bracelets, transport, beach chairs, surf boards, and everything else we didn't want. <br /><br />Part 2: Begdugul and Mt. Catur<br />We hiked a volcano for 5 hours in a torrential downpour, sustained numerous leech bites, and then slid down the steep, narrow, rocky, half-stream-half-mud-river, overgrown "path" to the bottom. There were all sorts of signs in Indonesian along the trail, but all we could translate was the word "beware." They probably said something important. <br /><br />Part 3: Kerobokan and Denpasar<br />Anja went home to study, and I hung out in the city and some temples. I relocated to a hostel that provided a motorbike free of charge for guests. Very cool, if only I knew how to ride one. <br /><br />That's the cliff notes version. <br /><br />The end result is that I'm back in Singapore tanner, poorer, wanting to surf, and more aware of God's rich blessings in my life. When I am a foriegner in a strange land, I become conscious of how little control I have over my life. The people I meet, the circumstance that fit together, my safety and health--that's all up to God in the end. He has blessed me far more than I deserve.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-71239985385949973022011-04-27T22:26:00.007+08:002011-04-27T22:51:20.171+08:00Universal Studios Singapore<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8NN1Obu7zj0/TbgpnTbK9KI/AAAAAAAAABo/-1wxtLiIBQA/s1600/bornAgainVelosiJason%2B%2528Large%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal">Today, Jason and I had no class, so we seized the opportunity to go to Universal Studios Singapore (USS) in the middle of school week, as any good theme parkers should. The day was ideal. All the rides were open, and we got to do everything we wanted to do, and then repeat all the best things, just for good measure.</p><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><p class="MsoNormal">We arrived around 10am, the hour when the park opened, and went immediately to the Battlestar Galactica dual coasters. This took us through the Hollywood-theme and New York-theme lands, which were both very nice and a little retro. Their way-better-than-life depiction of bygone days in big cities was charming – I loved the ambience. And somehow, the transition to the space-themed land wasn’t jarring.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Once at the coaster pair, we got in line for the Cylon side. The coaster was inverted with plenty of inversions, and an incredibly fun first ride. One highlight: plunging into fog-filled holes. The white of the fog matched the white of the surrounding ground pretty well, and since we were in the front, the illusion of impending impact was excitingly convincing. We went on the human side less, and it was a much more standard coaster. Not inverted and no inversions or fog holes, but still fun <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><o:p></o:p></p><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UbcKR7M2fmY/TbgoXDS1jLI/AAAAAAAAABQ/NztgBWpeTgA/s1600/JasonBSGCoaster%2B%2528resize%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600270513121627314" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UbcKR7M2fmY/TbgoXDS1jLI/AAAAAAAAABQ/NztgBWpeTgA/s320/JasonBSGCoaster%2B%2528resize%2529.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The BSG coasters don't scare Jason.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal">Next, we went to the Egypt-themed land and went on the Revenge of the Mummy ride. It’s apparently very similar to the one in CA, but I’ve never been on that one, so it was new to me. And ridiculously fun. Indoor steel coaster with excellent theming. It was kind of like Space Mountain and Indiana Jones mixed together and set to the Mummy plot. <o:p></o:p></p><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600270875096816562" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L3VGqrQaGMc/TbgosHwcm7I/AAAAAAAAABY/Y-X4_MpZAKs/s320/EgyptLand%2B%2528Large%2529.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I felt just as awkward as I look</span></div><p class="MsoNormal">Next, we went to the rapid ride in the Jurassic Park land. Now, I almost swore off rapids rides altogether, as getting wet is far more frightening to me than long vertical drops or corkscrews or any of those purely fun coaster elements. But this was Singapore, where at least the ride’s water is better than the sweat that’s already drenching you. And Jason let me wear his rain jacket. The ride was very fun, complete with the requisite Tyrannosaurus Rex near-death experience.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8NN1Obu7zj0/TbgpnTbK9KI/AAAAAAAAABo/-1wxtLiIBQA/s1600/bornAgainVelosiJason%2B%2528Large%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600271891841086626" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8NN1Obu7zj0/TbgpnTbK9KI/AAAAAAAAABo/-1wxtLiIBQA/s320/bornAgainVelosiJason%2B%2528Large%2529.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span">Awww...a baby Velocijase. Careful, he may bite.</span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R8oLVGUJf5o/TbgpJlR9W4I/AAAAAAAAABg/Z1wuhL2n8Rg/s1600/TREX%2B%2528Large%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">We finished up Jurassic Park land with a short kid-oriented inverted coaster and a quick-but-satisfying climb up the amber rock wall. Then, we went to Far, Far Away, where we were ushered into the “Donkey ‘Live’” show, which was a sad, sad attempt to do what Disney has done so well with “Crush.” The effects and theming were as quality as the rest of the park, but the jokes just weren’t funny. But that’s ok, because we went to the Shrek 4D experience next, and it was very entertaining and fairly funny. Far, Far Away also had a short-and-sweet kiddy coaster.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">The last land in the circular park was Madagascar-themed, and the giant boat made a nice backdrop to the area. Unfortunately, it doesn’t have much in the way of attractions yet, but we went on the Merry-Go-Round, which was fun. It’d been a while. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Having gone on all the worthy rides, we got some tasty pizza and started into ride seconds and shows. The Universal classic monsters rock musical was kinda weird but in an entertaining way. We got to see some impressive B-boy dancers in New York land, and the Waterworld show was great.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">All in all, I loved USS. The park only opened in March 2010, and everything felt just as new as it was. The theming throughout the park was impressive and delightful. The Wednesday crowd was so thin, we hardly ever had to wait at all for rides. We even got to go on the BSG coasters three times each! It’s hard to imagine a better day.<o:p></o:p></p>nilgolodhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00375374486264297890noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-8467513081396262532011-04-24T19:47:00.001+08:002011-04-30T22:57:42.731+08:00Henderson Wave Bridge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v8SY2iGrdQ8/TbQMmGQjqdI/AAAAAAAABao/xwflOPiI6xY/s1600/DSC_3298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v8SY2iGrdQ8/TbQMmGQjqdI/AAAAAAAABao/xwflOPiI6xY/s320/DSC_3298.JPG" width="280" /></a></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--ikes-a8Ksg/TbQMdo-K58I/AAAAAAAABak/WWmDJFDOWnc/s1600/DSC_3259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--ikes-a8Ksg/TbQMdo-K58I/AAAAAAAABak/WWmDJFDOWnc/s320/DSC_3259.JPG" width="280" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fz0egqLc57A/TbQL3cUxB-I/AAAAAAAABaU/spcy6VRTV1g/s1600/DSC_3263.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fz0egqLc57A/TbQL3cUxB-I/AAAAAAAABaU/spcy6VRTV1g/s640/DSC_3263.JPG" width="620" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-32973758697805093712011-04-20T00:06:00.003+08:002011-04-30T22:57:48.235+08:00Rain<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3veXT1pAQMA/Ta2qGhpyS3I/AAAAAAAABZc/exVIxThWEg4/s1600/rainimation.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3veXT1pAQMA/Ta2qGhpyS3I/AAAAAAAABZc/exVIxThWEg4/s1600/rainimation.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">what waterfalls look like in Singapore<br />
well, maybe without the looping...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Before arriving, I heard three main things about Singapore:<br />
- Strict Rules<br />
- Food<br />
- Rain<br />
Though the first item hasn't shown itself as much as I expected it to, the latter two have certainly been as promised. Oh yes.<br />
<br />
While in Singapore I've had the honor of witnessing quite a few great thunderstorms, of an intensity I've rarely seen outside the tropics. Unfortunately, I'm ill equipped to effectively share the sounds with you (that would take a nicer microphone on my end and a THX-certified room on your end), but I'll do my best to share some of the sights.<br />
<br />
Singapore's civil engineers, as rightly they should, take rain seriously. I mean, <i>very</i> seriously. In an impressive attempt to keep Mother Nature under control, it seems they have lined every river in Singapore with cement. Take a look:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P6gfp-Lty4I/Ta2YuSUIDnI/AAAAAAAABYk/ab8cdRGACE8/s1600/DSC_3148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P6gfp-Lty4I/Ta2YuSUIDnI/AAAAAAAABYk/ab8cdRGACE8/s400/DSC_3148.JPG" width="253" /></a></td> <td style="margin-left: 10; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XDJalFUtxfQ/Ta2tLslLFUI/AAAAAAAABZg/seR3wOdYimI/s1600/DSC_3132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XDJalFUtxfQ/Ta2tLslLFUI/AAAAAAAABZg/seR3wOdYimI/s400/DSC_3132.JPG" width="260" /></a></td> </tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">what rivers look like in Singapore</td> <td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">another Singapore waterfall</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">But, as you can see, even with such effort put into controlling the water, Nature, with the help of <strike>Moore's</strike><b> EDIT:</b> <i>Murphy's</i> law, still manages to overflow the ditches and flood the sidewalks occasionally. After every storm, the tiled floors of my hall's stairwells become reminiscent of an ice rink and climbing the stairs becomes an adventure!<br />
I guess you just can't contain the power of a tropical storm!</div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-74877170504396523032011-04-14T00:24:00.001+08:002011-04-14T00:33:25.933+08:00Poems on Everyday ThingsWell, I haven’t posted in a while. We have explored Singapore pretty effectively, and there hasn’t been too much going on with me that is not part of what I’d consider normal college life. Lexi says it’s National Poetry Month, so maybe I will spice up some of my daily routine with a little rhyme and meter.<br /><br />ADM<br />Artsy Library<br />Entertaining, Teaching, Chronicling<br />Comic geeks in heaven<br />Batman…!<br /><br />That one was a cinquain. There are so many types of cinquain, that the word really doesn’t tell you much more than that the poem is five lines long. The Arts, Design, and Media Library has provided both Jason and me many, many hours of joy, mostly through comic books and movies (not to mention the A/C!). Alright. Too much prose – need poem:<br /><br />Eat more sushi to better please<br />Your culinary expertise.<br />Come with a hearty appetite<br />To slowly soothe in delight<br />As fishes from the seven seas<br />Enchant your tastes with gentle ease.<br />What magic do the Japanese<br />Impart to each and every bite!<br />Eat more sushi,<br />And a happy heart you’ll soon seize;<br />Your many worries, you’ll appease.<br />Forsooth, the day is ever bright<br />When sashimi relieves your plight.<br />And so I end with this reprise:<br />Eat more sushi.<br /><br />That was an attempt at a rondeau. They are a lot harder. But Japanese food is worth the effort! I don’t think any non-dessert item can beat some good salmon sashimi with sushi rice, soy sauce, and a tiny bit of wasabi. So good! Japanese food has become an important part of my diet in Singapore, much to my delight :D<br /><br />I hope your day is filled with excellent reading material and good food!nilgolodhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00375374486264297890noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-63958148621354217132011-04-14T00:18:00.002+08:002011-04-30T22:57:55.167+08:00This is how it's done: the Breakfast SetRose has already <a href="http://olinsingapore.blogspot.com/2011/02/kaya-spread-of-wonder-spread-of-delight.html">sung the praises</a> of the Singaporean "breakfast set" once. It's a song worth singing twice.<br />
These are things I will always remember:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div>The lady behind the counter -- always there, every morning, week in, week out<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-25vA0_y_ooE/TaXEx9Ht-5I/AAAAAAAABX4/PscZIXtGtEo/s1600/DSC_2209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-25vA0_y_ooE/TaXEx9Ht-5I/AAAAAAAABX4/PscZIXtGtEo/s320/DSC_2209.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These people make breakfast preparation <br />
into poetry</td></tr>
</tbody></table>sees me in line, "same? with tea lah?",<br />
passes the order on to her team: yells: "A SOM TE!"<br />
<br />
The toast lady, patiently nursing toasts on a grill to perfection<br />
pre-sandwiched, pre-spread with kaya<br />
she plates three pieces when they're ready<br />
and not a moment before.<br />
<br />
The tea man of the team hears the order<br />
tea comes from a kettle held on high, the arc three feet long<br />
boiling water from a tap<br />
condensed milk on a spoon<br />
all the while continuously in motion<br />
not a drop spilled until the teacup is on its saucer, delivered to the counter in front of me<br />
when it hits the counter, it always spills<br />
<br />
Two eggs, half-boiled, but sometimes more like three-quarters or 0.3<br />
keep the experience unpredictable.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4XWkvY5q-aA/TaXD3kMeFeI/AAAAAAAABX0/Y7U-SG_RSYw/s1600/BreakfastSet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4XWkvY5q-aA/TaXD3kMeFeI/AAAAAAAABX0/Y7U-SG_RSYw/s400/BreakfastSet.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">mmm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And so, this experience having played out over a few dramatic moments, I sit down with my tray and begin my meal, which occurs in 1:5.7 syllable format:<br />
Toast: crunchy, smooth and sweet. Makes me a happier guy.<br />
Eggs: half-boiled, runny. I must learn to concoct these.<br />
Tea: bitter, sweet when stirred. The perfect way to finish.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-38667403941082345342011-04-07T22:15:00.001+08:002011-04-30T22:55:10.220+08:00Photo: Tree Under Observation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dj94cdXAaT4/TZ3GZZsOYBI/AAAAAAAABXU/XIs72teZfYE/s1600/DSC_1820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dj94cdXAaT4/TZ3GZZsOYBI/AAAAAAAABXU/XIs72teZfYE/s640/DSC_1820.JPG" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can offer no further explanation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-6794277114551744102011-04-04T14:47:00.005+08:002011-04-04T15:05:35.099+08:00An odeIt seems fitting to write an <a href="http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/294763/irregular-ode">irregular ode</a> to express my heartfelt sentiments today, as April is National Poetry Month and regular odes appear more challenging.<br /><br /><br /><em>Ode to Those Who Comment on Blog Posts</em><br /><br />With your replies and my posts intertwined,<br />A conversation can emerge about<br />Life or mankind. <br />When others read and enjoy what I spout,<br />I feel exuberance to write and find<br />Intriguing stories and adventurous tales,<br />That somehow convey <br />Experiences I had while away.<br />Your comments are like getting airmail.<br /><br />Thanks for reading our blog!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-87613973035634888632011-04-01T21:59:00.003+08:002011-04-01T23:01:25.546+08:00Things I don't like<div class="MsoNormal">For every 7 positive blog posts you write, you must write a negative one. I think there's a law like somewhere.<br /><br />And since most things make me happy or at least don't cause any ripples in my tranquil pool of complacency, it is high time that I throw in the towel, rustle up my indignation, and <span style="font-style:italic;">carpe diem</span>!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /><a name='more'></a><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />Ahem.<br /><br />I shall begin.<br /><br />I don't like it when students talk during lectures. There's almost always a constant murmur that obscures what the professor is saying. I'm pretty sure it's a cultural phenomenon or one of the perils of attending a large university. I guess when there are so many other students, you don't have to worry about whether or not the teacher sees you talking--she won't know who you are anyway.<br /><br />Tangent: Thanks to my Caucasian half and my fondness for the vocalization of English [read: I talk a lot (but to the professor, not the kid sitting next to me)], my professor knows my name even though I'm in a class with 500+ students. It's sort of impossible for me to blend in here.<br /> <br />I don't like it when team members don't do their work. I guess this would bother me more if our team assignments were long or interesting. As it is, the poor participation is merely a tiny fly buzzing about my cranium that I can swat away by doing everyone's work for them. It's all about the joy of learning, right? And I get more joy!<br /><br />Whoa there, Tonto. We're verging on the positive. I will attempt to sink back into dismal pessimism. <br /><br />I don't like people who stare at me. This happens a lot here. Maybe because I don't look Asian. Maybe because I carry empty five gallon paint buckets and a meter of PVC pipe around and everyone else just has a book bag. Maybe because I'm pretty tall and fashion challenged compared to the wisps of Asian women everyone is used to seeing flit on by. Who knows? <br /><br />I don't like mice, but I haven't seen any here. I don't like Lyme disease, but I haven't caught it. I don't like being alone, but I'm not because I have you!<br /><br />All right, that's as negative as I can get. <br /><br />It's lovely and cool this evening, and I have a slice of pineapple to dine on! <br /><br />How swell!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-69640364746774536842011-04-01T10:45:00.001+08:002011-04-01T11:07:48.646+08:00RoutineWhen I first got here, it was clear that every day was a new adventure, and every weekend was an opportunity to do something brand new. Time was moving at a normal rate or somewhat slower.<br />
<br />
Due to some strange warping of the space-time continuum, the weeks have been accelerated to a frightening rate. Monday happened just a little while ago, and now <i>bam</i>, it's Friday. It's a testament to how used to this place I've become. Here are some other indicators that I live here now:<br />
- I walk places on autopilot, and when people ask me for directions, I can help<br />
- I have local friends in my classes and I usually <i>remember their names</i> (this takes a long time for me...)<br />
- The lady at the breakfast stall recognizes me and knows what I want without me saying a word.<br />
<div>- I look the correct way first before crossing the street. Vehicles no longer startle me when they make a turn into the left lane.<br />
<br />
Yes, my mind has gotten used to this place. I wonder what culture shock I'll have when I get back to the U.S. of A...<br />
<br />
On another note, check out our alternate blog views: <a href="http://olinsingapore.blogspot.com/view/mosaic">http://olinsingapore.blogspot.com/view/mosaic</a></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-85448920772713564232011-03-29T14:19:00.030+08:002011-04-01T21:10:54.649+08:00"Lots of walk and little sleep weekend"<div class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VlvhxQ1fZxg/TZMKbrtTOpI/AAAAAAAAADc/lhMeNrNX3k8/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B011c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VlvhxQ1fZxg/TZMKbrtTOpI/AAAAAAAAADc/lhMeNrNX3k8/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B011c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589823033202391698" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hurray! Thailand!</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /><a name='more'></a><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">That's what Anja called our trek to Thailand. I think it's a pretty accurate statement.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RebdVmvo_wU/TZMGxJctPNI/AAAAAAAAADM/FN-NgFQwXsk/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B047c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RebdVmvo_wU/TZMGxJctPNI/AAAAAAAAADM/FN-NgFQwXsk/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B047c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589819003916598482" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meet Anja. She's from Germany. They have to fight Thai warriors there on occasion.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We traipsed through the streets of Bangkok by foot, public bus, water taxi, sky train, subway, and normal taxi. Our encounter with one taxi driver was especially funny. He laughed after everything he said. This made it difficult to understand if he was asking a question or telling us about landmarks that we passed. Verily, a good-natured fellow. The only thing we didn't ride was a tuk-tuk. We tried, but the driver said our destination was too far away. How silly. If it were any closer we would have walked.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A-l0MelLpGs/TZMI8ELAznI/AAAAAAAAADU/uBuIlemetkE/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B076c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A-l0MelLpGs/TZMI8ELAznI/AAAAAAAAADU/uBuIlemetkE/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B076c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589821390502022770" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, look. A tuk-tuk we didn't ride.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gRJFAZ9fRPc/TZMsk6J82oI/AAAAAAAAAEk/rXiui2fPZqk/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B135c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gRJFAZ9fRPc/TZMsk6J82oI/AAAAAAAAAEk/rXiui2fPZqk/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B135c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589860575094823554" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, look. A water taxi we did ride.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Walking made us hungry, so it was a win-win situation. The street food was fabulous. Our first night in the city, we stumbled across a shish kabob stand outside our hostel and ate meatballs smothered in chili sauce for 0.33 USD. Yum. Fresh mangoes and pineapples were for sale everywhere you looked for about 0.50 - 0.65 USD (peeled and ready to savor on the spot). We tried mangosteens (the most delicious of all the tropical fruits according to the National Museum of Singapore), Thai apples, guavas, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rambutan">rambutans</a>, and plum mangoes. We dined on noodle soup for almost every meal, but I loved it. The Thai cuisine has a perfect balance of chili and fresh herbs, occasionally enhanced with peanuts and coconut milk. Things taste fresh and sweet and spicy all at once. Plus, it really clears your sinuses if you have a cold.<br /> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n-2WQ0ZHVa0/TZMLO8Qc-gI/AAAAAAAAADk/UXQnJek4Po0/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B254c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n-2WQ0ZHVa0/TZMLO8Qc-gI/AAAAAAAAADk/UXQnJek4Po0/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B254c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589823913818126850" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noodle soup. It has tasty unknown things in it.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />To take break from all the eating, we visited the Grand Palace and some other temples on the first day. There were a lot of shiny and pointy things.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cbsoo-ENBd0/TZMMAwdNQaI/AAAAAAAAADs/YDe-cUyzr6s/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B025c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cbsoo-ENBd0/TZMMAwdNQaI/AAAAAAAAADs/YDe-cUyzr6s/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B025c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589824769643856290" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Golden and jade Buddhas abounded. We saw an especially large one lying down. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_I7lbs-A9nI/TZMmuKCuSwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/CNU21rxz-xE/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B041c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_I7lbs-A9nI/TZMmuKCuSwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/CNU21rxz-xE/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B041c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589854136908532482" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The large Buddha had large feet.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />One of my favorite things were the murals along the inside of a temple's courtyard wall. They seemed to depict some really great stories. I mean, a man's tongue covers the city and keeps invaders at bay? How cool.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fKWhGZQ98IE/TZMMWGrTprI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Ajm4OEJmZLY/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B009c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fKWhGZQ98IE/TZMMWGrTprI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Ajm4OEJmZLY/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B009c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589825136385828530" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br />We decided to check out Chinatown, but kept getting lost along the way and some how ended up in Little India. This turned out well though because we got invited to a wedding and ate tasty Indian food at the reception. Unfortunately, they don't smash plates at Indian weddings, so that's still on my to-do list. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HNyHwM9iB5s/TZMM8Prw6nI/AAAAAAAAAD8/amFJf-BJhb0/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B052c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HNyHwM9iB5s/TZMM8Prw6nI/AAAAAAAAAD8/amFJf-BJhb0/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B052c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589825791638694514" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br />When we made it to Chinatown I spent most of my time and concentration trying not to get run over by motorcycles, men with loaded dollies, street food vendors relocating their carts, cars, and other people. It was pretty crowded.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NAFStvBwx0Y/TZM406kmKGI/AAAAAAAAAE8/WHHKNFkqG9A/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B070c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NAFStvBwx0Y/TZM406kmKGI/AAAAAAAAAE8/WHHKNFkqG9A/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B070c.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589874044224022626" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I employed my finely tuned evasive skills to dodge and weave with the best of them.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We found respite in Lumpini park. It was a good place to rest our overstimulated senses and check out what the locals do for fun. About 100-200 of them were bouncing around in an outdoor aerobics class. I was tempted to join in, but my feet were tired. Some guys were playing a strange version of volleyball; they used everything but their hands (head, feet, knees, etc.)!<br /><br />Everyone stood at attention with their arms at their sides when the park speakers played some music (the National Anthem?). This was a neat display of the respect and adoration the Thais have for their king. The large decorated portraits of him all over the city clued us in, too.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yf78qd3nrBs/TZMozcCB8UI/AAAAAAAAAEM/6rxd4Ivp-is/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B062c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yf78qd3nrBs/TZMozcCB8UI/AAAAAAAAAEM/6rxd4Ivp-is/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B062c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589856426660065602" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Since his face is on all their coins and bills, we had to be careful to handle the money gently. It made our buying transactions pretty polite.<br /><br />*Hand a bill over gently.<br />*The shop owner holds out both hands to receive it and bows slightly.<br />*Bow slightly back and elevate my hands to accept my change. <br /><br />I only noticed how different the attitude towards currency was when I was back in Singapore and the indestructible bills were tossed about with casual utilitarianism. Strange.<br /><br />The next day, we attended a cooking class with a friendly, hand-waving, Thai woman. She used to sell food on the street all day to make about 7 USD, but is now doing quite well and about to publish her own cookbook. Thanks to the compassion and care of an Australian woman who moved to the slums of Bangkok and the organization she started (Helping Hands), some Thais are working their way up. It was a pretty fun morning, as we visited the market, cooked some food, and chatted with the other tourists.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TVi4JutZgs4/TZMqUFcylGI/AAAAAAAAAEU/nd6OzET2K6I/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B172c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TVi4JutZgs4/TZMqUFcylGI/AAAAAAAAAEU/nd6OzET2K6I/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B172c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589858087045600354" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poo, our teacher. She sold aprons that said "I cooked with Poo and I liked it."</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The rest of the day was spent at a giant market and a <a href="http://www.siamniramit.com/oldweb/">Thai show</a>. I bought an elephant at the market and then introduced him to his homeland at the fake Thai village that was set up outside the theater. The show was quite spectacular. It advertised that its stage is in the Guinness Book of World Records. Probably because of its size, but it could be because it has been the location of the most deaths by harness-malfunctioning, you never know. Lots of dancing and theatrics were involved. My favorite parts were when an actor jumped into a river on the stage that that I hadn't noticed existed in the first two acts and when a dancer got stuck hanging upside down in her harness for a brief moment. Crazy stuff.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bxzyebZO4Vo/TZMrL6xar1I/AAAAAAAAAEc/gXVljEUSJjA/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B249c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bxzyebZO4Vo/TZMrL6xar1I/AAAAAAAAAEc/gXVljEUSJjA/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B249c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589859046251999058" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My elephant made friends with the gift shop elephants.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We couldn't go without visiting a floating market, so we did the touristy thing and set out for Damnoen Saduak (about 2 hours outside the city) on Monday morning. Instead of going with a tour group, we went by public bus. This was pretty cheap and worked out rather well. The bus lady who collected the fares on board told us "I take care of you." It was a nice change from the scary, airport shuttle bus lady (our first encounter with Thai people). She scowled at us and said something along the lines of: "Where do you want to go? Growl. Tell me now." <br /><br />We went around the market by boat for 200 baht instead of the 800 baht they wanted to charge us. Being young and poor makes you more motivated to get a good deal. We were also able to wander away from the crowds down the "sidewalks" in front of normal people's houses. Some people had chickens in their yard! A great feat when most of your yard is river.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1G0Ub-BjKOo/TZMtcN00osI/AAAAAAAAAEs/H2CAcs-Na0U/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B291c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1G0Ub-BjKOo/TZMtcN00osI/AAAAAAAAAEs/H2CAcs-Na0U/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B291c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589861525267718850" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A floating market. Yum.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Back in Bangkok we checked out the cosmopolitan world of shopping malls and the Jim Thompson house (the epitome of quite luxury surrounded by noisy city). Then, it was off the airport and away to Singapore!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WFkwmhT_vb0/TZMvSh4qTOI/AAAAAAAAAE0/F5YeYwKmvq4/s1600/thailand%2B2011%2B319c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WFkwmhT_vb0/TZMvSh4qTOI/AAAAAAAAAE0/F5YeYwKmvq4/s400/thailand%2B2011%2B319c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589863557877091554" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The city part of Bangkok.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I quite enjoyed my time in Thailand. We stayed at a clean, welcoming hostel with old teak floors and AC. The weather was cloudy and cool enough that local were wearing jackets (perfect!). And to top it all off, we never even got run over by a motor vehicle! With a cautious and easygoing travel companion to balance out my impulsive, trusting self, I couldn't have asked for a better trip.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-83778763194861924262011-03-26T23:14:00.003+08:002011-03-27T22:21:03.903+08:00Malaysian Adventure: A map!I've put together a map of the general path Rose and I took on our tour of Malaysia, complete with geotagged pictures.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://goo.gl/ZtN1Y" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-9jfVPwBJhf8/TY4Da0JMPsI/AAAAAAAABW4/QAMgSEIPGm0/s1600/malaysia_map.PNG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click the map to <a href="http://goo.gl/ZtN1Y">explore.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-3697794135097208922011-03-25T10:59:00.001+08:002011-04-30T22:56:18.364+08:00Malaysian Adventure: Many Delights<div class="MsoNormal">As promised, I will tell you of the delights of our Malaysian vacation. I will do so by location, going in temporal order.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Malacca:</b><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-crMBm63bbiM/TYoBKm3XEOI/AAAAAAAABUE/otV-fIE9ikM/s1600/DSC_2431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-crMBm63bbiM/TYoBKm3XEOI/AAAAAAAABUE/otV-fIE9ikM/s320/DSC_2431.JPG" width="212" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal">We ate a delicious dim sum breakfast! The tea was amazing. Om nom nom. Then, since it was so early, we enjoyed the lights on the river running through the town:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pHMMnM8gruA/TYm_Q-g2imI/AAAAAAAABSk/HH_vHwEwBh4/s1600/MalaccaRiver_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pHMMnM8gruA/TYm_Q-g2imI/AAAAAAAABSk/HH_vHwEwBh4/s400/MalaccaRiver_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">The view was stunning whether you looked to the left...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0TduuE7B3U8/TYoBB-ttD4I/AAAAAAAABUA/ORMDdDcu9r0/s1600/MalaccaRiverPanorama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0TduuE7B3U8/TYoBB-ttD4I/AAAAAAAABUA/ORMDdDcu9r0/s640/MalaccaRiverPanorama.jpg" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...or to the right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal">There were so many birds in the trees, that when they flew away, their exodus seemed to go on forever! Much of Malacca is painted in brick red, including an excellent church and bell tower in the central square. We got to see a cool Chinese Temple, too. Later, we explored an informative museum about the history of Malaysia. We stayed at Emily’s, a hostel whose highlight was a sweet shower filled with plants.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Kuala Lumpur, or KL:</b><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-m-nB57EGwKc/TYn4vJrZRsI/AAAAAAAABTg/hjqJu6_D-fo/s1600/DSC_2677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-m-nB57EGwKc/TYn4vJrZRsI/AAAAAAAABTg/hjqJu6_D-fo/s320/DSC_2677.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KL's skyline from near the end of one of the subway lines</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal">One highlight of KL was that it was the only city at which we arrived at a reasonable hour without difficulty. Our first evening there, we explored the bustling Chinatown with all of its foods and merchandise.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">The next day, we got to go to the marvelous Batu Caves, one of the highlights of the whole trip.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-N9pNVkj97CU/TYn5wvsoMTI/AAAAAAAABT0/w13nKZeyeEU/s1600/DSC_2572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-N9pNVkj97CU/TYn5wvsoMTI/AAAAAAAABT0/w13nKZeyeEU/s320/DSC_2572.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">We climbed a lot of steps to get up there, but it was worth it! The cave housed Hindu shrines and lots of monkeys and pigeons. The monkeys were particularly great, as usual:<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cfk8vctxV-k/TYn5TP-ZyBI/AAAAAAAABTo/34v3_9gAaHE/s1600/DSC_2605-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cfk8vctxV-k/TYn5TP-ZyBI/AAAAAAAABTo/34v3_9gAaHE/s320/DSC_2605-1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We took a few trains and ended up at an awesome vegan restaurant for lunch. Yeah, vegan Malaysian food.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QCtHNBaw6WA/TYn0MngTddI/AAAAAAAABTU/rWRBhk1UO70/s1600/Vegetarian.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QCtHNBaw6WA/TYn0MngTddI/AAAAAAAABTU/rWRBhk1UO70/s200/Vegetarian.png" width="166" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this character was prominent on the storefront.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal">It was pretty good, and the restaurant had by far the best bathroom of the trip, with all the luxuries: Western-style seat, toilet paper, sink with soap. It even had a nice ambience. What an indulgence!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Finally, we explored the orchid and hibiscus gardens, as well as the park in that area.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ioqD4yWvNVQ/TYn49v9Qs2I/AAAAAAAABTk/PsOGEIzbaA4/s1600/DSC_2636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ioqD4yWvNVQ/TYn49v9Qs2I/AAAAAAAABTk/PsOGEIzbaA4/s320/DSC_2636.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was here that I performed the amazing feat of getting bit by mosquitos shortly after applying bus spray. But the flowers were truly beautiful, and Jason had lots of fun taking pictures.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Our last day in KL was spent mostly in the mall. The mall, housed at the base of the Petronas Towers, was really lovely, and I enjoyed walking through it so much that I even volunteered to carry Jason’s heavier backpack for a bit of it. We saw two movies, as the movies were cheap cheap cheap, and we had lots of time to kill before our train. These movies were: Unknown and Merong Mahawangsa. The first was a Hollywood film that I enjoyed much more than Jason did, though we both liked the second, which was a Malaysian film telling the largely mythical history of one of the provinces of Malaysia. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gZs_J7l01jk/TXwQMOkhuMI/AAAAAAAACg4/IYPHJtklwmE/s1600/posterFilemHikayatMerongMahawangsaKRU-739635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gZs_J7l01jk/TXwQMOkhuMI/AAAAAAAACg4/IYPHJtklwmE/s320/posterFilemHikayatMerongMahawangsaKRU-739635.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It involved a Roman prince, Chinese Princess, and a protagonist who makes a funny mirror device to burn up enemy ships. Too bad for him one of his enemies was also a weather wizard, so the clouds came in and some hand-to-hand combat was necessary, such as that featured on the poster.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Penang:</b><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>We took a night train to Penang, on which I got more mosquito bites despite the air conditioning. I also got some sleep, but not enough, so after a lovely ferry ride, we traveled around the island by bus.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-RUvlaGlD2Yo/TYn3yWt14eI/AAAAAAAABTY/Jmx4WZgc0AU/s1600/DSC_2723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-RUvlaGlD2Yo/TYn3yWt14eI/AAAAAAAABTY/Jmx4WZgc0AU/s320/DSC_2723.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Jason got to see the island and take pictures, and I got to do a little seeing and lots of sleeping. We saw the usual mix of temples, churches, and mosques on Penang, as well as a few Chinese clan houses. We stayed at a place called Stardust which the guidebook said was much cleaner than the other choices. If this was true, I am incredibly glad we did not stay at one of the other places :p<br />
<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Penang offered us the best nature experiences of the trip, as we got to see some totally awesome bioluminescence as well as go to the world’s smallest national park. The park boasted some nice beach views as well as a very fun canopy walk. I almost bathed in bug spray while here, and am happy to say the mosquitos did not touch me.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I also got to try Georgetown’s “white coffee.” It was ok, but not what I was expecting. It looked like coffee with all the fixings- there was certainly plenty of cream and sugar in the cup. But somehow, it still tasted like rather strong, black coffee. I shudder to think what white coffee tastes like black!<o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Kota Bharu:</b><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Getting to Kota Bharu was an adventure, but Jason’s writing about that, so I’ll just say that we arrived in the afternoon. We had an ice cream waffle and I had a root beer float shortly after we arrived, and these two items were delicious enough that I remember that afternoon with fondness. We stayed at a place called Zeck’s where the owners were very friendly.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-voHjx-VDM04/TYn5iMd-MoI/AAAAAAAABTs/6Kv9IknyjpU/s1600/DSC_2869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-voHjx-VDM04/TYn5iMd-MoI/AAAAAAAABTs/6Kv9IknyjpU/s320/DSC_2869.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I slept most of the afternoon.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">We had tasty Indian food for dinner. We had lots of tasty Indian food on this trip. I neglected to mention it in its due time, but really the various breads, mango lassis, and curries were absolutely delicious. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">We left Kota Bharu the following morning on the jungle train. Just 15 hours later, we arrived safely in Singapore. Upon arriving at my dorm, I took what may be the best shower of my life up to this point. This, too, I count as a highlight of my trip. Really a delightful finish.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div>nilgolodhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00375374486264297890noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-46322068478807159872011-03-24T23:05:00.003+08:002011-04-30T22:56:11.761+08:00Malaysian Adventure Week: the Forgotten Bus<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-JdmadovPxZA/TYoKw40aTeI/AAAAAAAABUI/hULLVkD13eY/s1600/DSC_2852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-JdmadovPxZA/TYoKw40aTeI/AAAAAAAABUI/hULLVkD13eY/s400/DSC_2852.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They thought they were in for a comfortable night. Little did they know...</span></i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>O</i></span><i>ur</i> tickets said something along these lines:<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Bus Departs Penang 9:00PM Wednesday, March 16, Arrives Kota Bharu 5:00AM Thursday, March 17.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Train leaves Wakaf Bharu (7 km from Kota Bharu) 7:15AM Thursday, arrives Singapore 10:00PM.</span><br />
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You'll notice that, like good travelers, we gave ourselves 2 hours leeway between the bus arrival and the train departure. The 5AM arrival in Kota Bharu would be our third early-morning arrival in a new city: over the previous week, we had taken a train and taxi in to Malacca at 5AM, and a train and ferry to Penang arriving at 5AM. Only Kuala Lumpur was saved the sleepiness of a 5AM arrival: we arrived there, for a change, in early afternoon. We had seen our share of sunrises over sleepy towns.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, we had decided it would be nice to head back a day early, and had gotten tickets for the 7:15AM train (the "Jungle Train"!) from Wakaf Bharu on Thursday, back home to Singapore. So, we bought our tickets a day or two before, and showed up at the bus stop at 8:15 as planned. At around nine, we nestled ourselves into the bus' wide faux-leather seats (The seats' ergonomics had some major issues, but at least they <i>looked</i> comfy...) and settled down for the night, talking for a short while with a German tourist who's seat was nearby.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wmTPZNiXeYk/TYs3GGMb3bI/AAAAAAAABUc/90rUG0MvrG4/s1600/DSC_2825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wmTPZNiXeYk/TYs3GGMb3bI/AAAAAAAABUc/90rUG0MvrG4/s320/DSC_2825.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">one of our nicer-looking places to spend the night ;)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The bus departed, and crossed the impressive, iconic bridge from Penang to the mainland. It drove. And drove. We slept fitfully, but we slept. The bus interior was dark except for a large, bright digital clock at the front. I awoke a few times to find the bus stopped in different locations. The clock read 10:03, then 1:13 (with my first "Happy birthday" from a sleepy Rose), then 3:50, then 4:36. Almost there. I stayed awake this time as we pulled into a gas station.<br />
<br />
The clock read 5:00, then 5:15. There was some discussion going on between the crew members at the front (there were at least two, a driver and a ticket-taker, though I could never sort out who was who). A few people got out and walked around, or smoked, and I managed to learn from one of them that something was wrong with the engine.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Hmm.</i> Bad news, but I was glad that somebody knew enough English to tell me that. I tried more. How far was Khota Bharu? 50km? 100km? I couldn't get an answer.<br />
A car pulled up and one of the bus' passengers got into it, and drove away.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Hmm.</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-8r0RRRjY-QY/TYtE_eDr6wI/AAAAAAAABU4/gFqLlL1UvCk/s1600/DSC_2845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="274" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-8r0RRRjY-QY/TYtE_eDr6wI/AAAAAAAABU4/gFqLlL1UvCk/s320/DSC_2845.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>5:45. I started to get worried, and showed a crew member our train tickets, with the 7:15 departure time. He understood and began to be worried with me. Taxi, he said. I asked him if he could get somebody to call a taxi. He seemed to like the idea and went to talk to the driver. Next thing I knew, everyone had boarded again and the bus was moving. 6:00. <i>This could still work.</i><br />
I should've known better. After driving for a while, the bus stopped again, this time in front of a mosque. The crew left the bus purposefully. Were they going to ask for help? Did they arrange to meet a mechanic here?<br />
<br />
My questions were answered as an Adhan, the Muslim call to prayer, began to project from the minarets.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Hmm.</i> 6:15.<br />
The prayer continued for some time, and the driver was gone for the duration. I showed the tickets to the same person as before, and they told me no. Too late. Time for one more...<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Hmm. </i>What would you have been thinking?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9tj4RvPBjc4/TYtF0YdMvLI/AAAAAAAABU8/tfZs_2RSgWg/s1600/DSC_2844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9tj4RvPBjc4/TYtF0YdMvLI/AAAAAAAABU8/tfZs_2RSgWg/s320/DSC_2844.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Ah well. 6:25. The next train to Singapore was in 24 1/2 hours and thanks to our 10-day rail passes, I already had tickets for that train in my pocket. Plan B it was to be. I was fairly certain the bus would arrive in Kota Bharu by then. I stopped worrying, got out my camera and played around for a while, enjoying the foreign landscape and taking lots of blurry pictures in the dark, until we all piled back in the bus for another leg of driving.<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">D</span>aylight</i> found us stopped, again, for as it turned out, our bus had busted (teehee) a fan belt and could only travel for a few minutes at a time before the temperature gauge went up and the driver had to stop. The driver had called the dispatcher to report his situation, and offered to continue driving like this until Khota Bahru, which at this point was only a few hops away. No, his boss told him, don't drive; it's dangerous for the bus. We'll send a mechanic by 9 o'clock.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-TVGaZ2PHchY/TYtK6aP06BI/AAAAAAAABVE/2EBzw_8MEMA/s1600/DSC_2862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-TVGaZ2PHchY/TYtK6aP06BI/AAAAAAAABVE/2EBzw_8MEMA/s320/DSC_2862.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The local cow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We learned all this because we had met a new friend and source of information, in the form of a kindly passenger who spoke both English and Malay fluently.<br />
Thankfully, the bus had stopped this time at a food store/restaurant with tables outside, on the edge of a very small town, and not the middle of nowhere. As we waited, we read our books, were treated to a drink (hot "milo" -- the strange, southeast-asian version of chocolate milk powder! delicious because of the pool of condensed milk at the bottom!) by our friend, and met the local cow. As the food shop opened for the day, cars commuted by on the road, and trucks came in to start construction on a nearby building, we witnessed Malaysian daily life from an unplanned perspective.<br />
<br />
One of the trucks driving in grazed a small palm tree, then backed up to get a better approach angle, and knocked the tree over on the second round.<br />
<br />
Daily life.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-m10Lbe-2TaI/TYtNbzBZmyI/AAAAAAAABVI/R_c5lK_zoqs/s1600/DSC_2863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-m10Lbe-2TaI/TYtNbzBZmyI/AAAAAAAABVI/R_c5lK_zoqs/s320/DSC_2863.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor tree.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
As we sat, more of our fellow passengers were rescued by their families or friends. Our German friend tried "<i>autostop</i>," (hitchhiking), but drivers asked for steep prices and drove away at attempts to bargain. Meanwhile we waited. And waited. 9:00 went by, and 10:00 and 11. No mechanic ever materialized, and the driver would not entertain attempts to jury-rig a fan belt. At around 11:00, we started to try to get a taxi, and at length our Malay-speaking friend managed to wave one down and got us a remarkably cheap fare of 3 ringgits each (1USD) to the nearest town.<br />
Minutes later, the taxi dropped us off at a station where we could hop a bus for Kota Bharu. As I rummaged for our 3-ringgit fares, our driver consulted with another nearby taxi driver, who approached us and held up four fingers. "Four Ringgit," he said.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Hmm.</i></div>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06071746589213834011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901820916842588538.post-28298468522383017152011-03-23T21:15:00.003+08:002011-03-25T10:59:41.660+08:00Malaysian Adventure: One Trouble<div class="MsoNormal">In this post, I will explain how Malaysia taught me to be thankful for my daily luxuries. In my next post, I will explain other reasons why Malaysia might be a good place to visit, especially if you have lower standards of personal hygiene than I, or if you are willing to spend more money per day than I.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Exploring Malaysia with a backpack and budget was not what you would call a relaxing experience for me. Not so surprising, right? New places, stress to get places on time, all the normal things that go along with going someplace new without a guide… that can be enough to make anyone a little concerned. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">But those “normal” things really had very little to do with my stress. We had an amazing guide book that contained maps of all the places we visited. I cannot overstate the importance of a map in an unknown area. Maps are wonderful. I love them. If I have a map in my hands, I have almost absolute confidence that I will get where I am going. Maps dispel fears of being lost and give purpose to wanderings of a city. I never felt lost or overwhelmed by novelty during the trip.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But if not such common anxieties, what could betray my comfort? Well, we went to cities in Malaysia. These cities were not what you might call clean cities. We stayed at hostels in these cities. These hostels did not have what you might call clean facilities. In short, my nemesis this spring break was: Dirt.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You may think me a bit spoiled or too “dainty” or something like that, and I’m not going to argue with you. You can go on thinking that, and you are probably right. But I will qualify my enmity against dirt.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">First of all, I did go into the trip expecting some uncleanness. Indeed, overnight train rides will certainly prevent showering within the normal maximum 24-hour time limit. Indeed, carrying only a day pack’s worth of clothing will certainly require the repeating of some outfits. These things I knew.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But I did expect that when I took a shower, I would be clean, and I would be able to go to sleep in a clean room on a very clean, made-up bed. But no. Hostels aren’t like that. The sheet, and yes, I meant that to be singular, is clean, but no promises about anything else. The shower will dispense water, yes, and after a day in the city, it will improve your cleanliness, but you will by no means feel like a clean, respectable lady. No. Not at all.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And, well, in much of Malaysia, they have squat-style toilets that do not contain toilet paper. And good for you if you find soap. If I could have used a good clean bathroom complete with clean showers a few times, and if I could have slept in a clean room, I think I would have been far less uncomfortable.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Luckily for me, the rosy tint of hindsight is already starting to color the trip more favorably, but I shall endeavor to remember my newfound appreciation for the little things. A clean bedroom. Clean bathroom. Toilet paper. I have access to these things once more, and I am incredibly happy for it!<o:p></o:p></div>nilgolodhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00375374486264297890noreply@blogger.com0