Even More on How Much American Express Sucks

I think I mentioned how, after two months of humiliating card rejections, major inconvenience and lies from Amex staff, I finally canceled my card and requested a refund of my (pretty large) credit balance (particularly large since I canceled my 7 1/2 week southern Africa trip). Well, a month later, American Express still hasn't sent the check. I called while in the US to find out why. Which led to an email from American Express informing me that they've "opened an inquiry" into the "disputed" funds, and that in the interim, I'm not required to make a payment of these funds to Amex. The inquiry is expected to be resolved within the next 10-12 weeks. Something tells me I may need to sue if I'm going to see that money again, and I'm fairly certain I'll be tacking on claims for the hell they've put me through since December. Good thing my bar membership hasn't lapsed yet.

Grad School Update

Because it happened in the US, it didn't occur to me to post this (kind of) crucial bit of information: I accepted my offer from Harvard and will be moving back up to Cambridge (or somewhere nearby but a little less spendy) when I return to the country.

New Zealand: Initial Impressions of the South Island

I'd planned on a day or two in Auckland, a day in Wellington, and a day or two in Christchurch as my pleasant pitstop between Tonga and India. However, every Kiwi I met on my travels in Africa advised that I spend my short time here entirely on the South Island, so a new itinerary was born, featuring time in Christchurch, overnight stays in/near Kaikoura and Picton, and two scenic train rides (one along the coast, the other from the east to west, going through the mountains).

The good: New Zealand is insanely clean and green and beautiful, so scenic train rides and gondola rides up a mountain have been a good use of my time, as have my jaunts onto the water (whether for whale and dolphin-watching, or simply to get from the town of Picton to my hotel on one of the bays). Also, Hapuku Lodge (oddly enough, discussed below). Wine touring: I've never done it before (seriously), and going to three good (and one crappy) wineries in one afternoon was great. If I weren't traveling for so long, I would have bought a case of something.

The bad: mostly the food. I have had two good meals since I've been here, both at the amazingly beautiful Hapuku Lodge, which was designed by a family or architects and which features a chef and general manager imported from Northern California. The rest has ranged from mediocre to appallingly bad. Last night, for instance, I ordered a steak medium rare. It arrived medium well, with no steak knife, forcing me to saw through using a utensil about as sharp as a butter knife. The sides (including the greens) were inedible. And I'd had such high hopes for New Zealand beef... This morning's breakfast was not much better: eggs benedict featuring partially cooked spinach, overcooked eggs, and far too much hollandaise. The true crime, though, was the pint of balsamic vinegar reduction poured over the entire thing. No wonder I'm having more stomach trouble in New Zealand than I did in Ethiopia.

The weird: the entire country feels like an episode of Cheers. Could be that tourist season is winding to a close, but there's still something strange about being greeted by name by hotel staff, tour staff, train staff, etc. the second I appear. Seriously, how many times have you had a train conductor hop off a train and say "you must be (surname") before handing you your boarding pass? I'm guessing never, unless you were boarding the Tranzcoastal from Kaikoura to Picton.

Another weird thing: the almost complete lack of racial and ethnic diversity. With the exception of a few Japanese tourists, virtulally everyone on the south island (present company excluded, of course) is white. I keep on hearing about the Maoris, and I've even spent a few minutes watching the Maori TV station. But with the exception of one cleaning lady, I haven't seen any, or anyone else even mildly ethnic (unless the Israeli backpackers on my water taxi last night count). Definitely strange. Makes me stand out. But until this morning, I hadn't encountered any problems because of it. And maybe this morning was just a misunderstanding, but it didn't feel that way. On the water taxi, people were being checked in by last name. When the guy got around to me, I said my last name. I repeated it, in case he hadn't understood. Then, he turned to the guy sitting next to me and said "Is she staff?" The guy (who I assume was staff) seemed a little embarrassed when he replied that I was a guest. And I felt like I'd been slapped, but didn't feel like causing a scene, since it was the last water taxi I could take to get back in time for the train to Christchurch. I don't know what bugged me more, though: that he thought I was hotel staff, or the fact he didn't even speak to me directly to ask me.

So, I'm looking forward to seeing snow-capped mountains on the Tranzalpine tomorrow, but I'm also kind of looking forward to getting out of New Zealand. Not that I wouldn't come back: it's beautiful, and there's a lot more to see. But, easy as it is for a solo travel, it strikes me that this is a better place to travel with someone else.

Todd & Emil's Wedding: Best Beach Holiday Ever

I don't really like the beach. It might not be a stretch to say that I hate the beach. Which is why when I was in Zanzibar in January, I had a pretty awful time the two days I spent on the beach. (Granted, the problem was aggravated by all of the signs saying Danger: don't walk on the beach alone, don't go in the water alone, etc. When you're a solo traveler, these signs can be a bit of a buzz kill.) So, I was really looking forward to the wedding, and loved the idea of telling people that I was going to a wedding in Tonga, I was not looking forward to Tonga.

But, even before landing in Tonga, I was already starting to have a pretty great time. Twelve other attendees of this tiny wedding (32 guests) were on my plane, two right across the aisle from me (Emil's grandmother and godmother). On the ground in Samoa, I reconnected with a college friend (Rudy Reyes) and met two more soon to be new friends. And then, after a couple more hours of flying, some pretty tasty food and wine courtesy of Air New Zealand, and a bus and boat ride, I found myself on Fafa Island.

What can I say? I'll start with the fales (the shelters where we stayed): all fales come equipped with decks, slightly enclosed bathrooms with lovely outdoor showers, and hammocks on a little stretch of private beach. For deluxe fales, the decks are twice as big, and there are two bedrooms. Ours (I was sharing with collge friends Robby Scalise and Dave Bunker, as well as Emil's youngest brother) was deluxe.

Also great: the bar/restaurant on the island (okay, the drinks were a little weak and the beer got warm way too quickly, but the food was good). It was all ours (Todd and Emil reserved the entire island from March 19 through the 23), and the staff quickly memorized all our names so that we could be billed separately, not by fale. Which meant that every server, bartender, cleaning person, and manager greeted us by name whenever we met. I don't know why I liked this so much, but I did.

So, back to why I love Fafa Island even though I hate beaches. It was just kind of perfect. An entire seriously beautiful island reserved for my friends getting married, and their friends and family. Nothing to do except hang out. No shoes. No rule against having a cocktail at 11 a.m. and (thanks to the weakness of the drinks) no risk of hangovers. And, with the exception of some slightly Rachel Getting Married-type family drama (and even that can be entertaining, as long as you're on the outside looking in), not a hitch. (I do not count the formation of a new volcano, the couple of earthquakes, or the torrential rain that found us on the boat back from a snorkeling/brunch expedition as hitches, just part of the adventure.)

I could go on and on about how great Fafa Island is, but I'd rather talk about how great the wedding was. For one thing, it was relaxed. Day of, Todd and Emil still hadn't decided what time the ceremony would take place (it ended up being shortly after 6). There was also a question about clothing, the answer to which ended up being shorts (Tonga is seriously hot). Another great thing: it was short. As in even though Todd and Emil were about 7 minutes late, the wedding was still over before 6:15. The vows were sweet and the friend officiating did a nice job, and then it was done. No mass and prayers and kneeling/sitting/standing, no seven recitations and glass breaking, just a simple ceremony. I loved it.

As soon as the ceremony was over, Todd told everyone other than "family and alumni" that they could go away, i.e., go to the reception. Of course, there was almost no one there who didn't fit into one of those categories (esp. once alumni was expanded to include choir), so pretty much everyone stayed put for a low pressure 10-15 minutes of photos. The rest of the evening: cocktails, a traditional Tongan feast (complete with three roasted suckling pigs), kava, and dancing. (I'm going to have to post some pictures, not just of the ceremony, but of the dancing, because it was crazy. The staff put on some great numbers from Tonga, Fiji and Samoa (the best ones done by the bartender and one of the cooks who did it all in drag). Plus, Robby Scalise and Karl Cluck donned native Tongan attire (complete with black grease pen creating six-packs) for a celebratory dance they choreographed themselves. Good times.

Photos to follow (I hope) very soon.

luggage has probably made it

I won't know for sure until the day after tomorrow (int'l dateline) but I have my fingers crossed.

Bad Beginnings to the Second Leg of My Trip

I'm hoping things look up, but it's not promising. I should have known something was wrong the second I got in the cab to JFK. After all, the cab driver was a Nigerian guy (and many of you know my views on Nigerian men). And maybe I should have gotten out of the cab immediately. Instead, I said I needed to go to JFK and to take the tri-borough bridge to avoid the St. Patrick's Day parade. He insisted it would be better to take the 59th Street Bridge and that I'd be at the airport in plenty of time. Again, I told him to turn around and go north, but he refused. (And I really don't understand why: fares to JFK aren't metered, so he wasn't getting more money by getting me stuck in traffic. And the longer we were stuck, the less likely it was that he'd be getting a tip.). I suppose, being Nigerian, he figured that you don't have to listen to women, even when that woman is the person paying you. The asshole had the nerve to tell me to smile for only getting me to the airport 30 minutes late.

So, I got to the airport 47 minutes before my flight was scheduled to depart. Which of course meant that I was cutting it a little close in terms of baggage check. Despite telling the Delta staff that I had a flight that night out of LA and wouldn't be back in the country for months, I was told only that my luggage would "probably" make it.

Naturally, it didn't make it. It's on the next flight from JFK, which still hasn't landed. I've checked myself in on the flight to Tonga, but I'm now hanging out at Delta baggage claim. The nice ladies at Air New Zealand have informed me that my luggage "may" make it if I can bring it over in time (have I mentioned that I think LAX has the worst/slowest baggage claim in the world?), but reminded me that since there's only one Air New Zealand flight to Tonga out of LAX every week, if it doesn't make it, I'll be gone by the time my luggage arrives.

There were a lot of things I was planning on doing with my 4 hour layover: making some calls, buying an iPod charger, having dinner. Instead, I've been stuck hanging out at baggage claim and shuttling between terminals.

If my luggage arrives in time, this will all just be an irritating blip in my travels (and a formal complaint to the taxi and limousine commission--i took down that jerk's info). If not, I'm either going to be traveling around Tonga, New Zealand and India with nothing but the clothes on my back, or canceling my entire trip and moving up to Cambridge sooner than anticipated. Since there's no internet in Tonga (according to Todd), I'll be sure to post an update later tonight.

Confession: I May Have Judged My Fellow Travelers a Bit Too Harshly

I am pleased to report that my fellow travelers weren't nearly as awful as I initially made them out to be (with the exceptions of the food-sniffer and the Swiss girl). I suppose everyone has a story, if you're willing to listen and/or drag it out of them.

For instance, the not so secret racist is actually not racist, just a little clueless (and neurotic). She and her husband also get sympathy points for having an 18 year old daughter with the mental ability of a 2 year old, with bonus points for being so upbeat.

Some of the younger people are making good, brave decisions. One recent college grad decided not to return to England, given the economy, and will be taking a course in order to teach English in Thailand. Another is thinking of looking for internships in DC (presumably Capitol Hill).

And one of the most recent additions to our now finished tour is a banker who is working on becoming a screenwriter. (Also: he's related to Sir Walter Scott and Rob Roy--pretty cool, although not an actual accomplishment.)

I could say something good about everyone, but that would be tedious. It will have to suffice that I think well of all of them, for different reasons, and that they are all very kind, sometimes funny, and often fun. I'll try to judge less harshly in the future. Of course, not doing 10 1/2 solid weeks of organized tours will make that considerably easier.

In Which I Find that Angkor Wat Exceeds Expectations (and Siem Reap Needs Improvement)

The last (new) city on my itinerary for southeast Asia was Siem Reap. And the temples did not disappoint (although, thanks to the 100 degree temperature and the high humidity, by 4 I'd had enough sightseeing for the day). After visiting the main temple (Angkor Wat), we headed to the "Tomb Raider" temple, which was entirely unfamiliar, as I tend to repress all action movie-related memories. Real name: Ta Phrom. The highlight (in part because it was not as familiar an image as the maon Angkor Wat temple) Bayon, which has 54 towers, each displaying 4 faces of Buddha. We also managed to get to Angkor Wat at 5:45 the next morning (painful) to catch sunrise. Totally touristy experience, but also really great. Expect photos in the next couple of days.

Unfortunately, lots of people come to Siem Reap. And many of them are young westerners that seem overly focused on getting drunk as quickly as possible. Their destination: Pub Street, which is full of (you guessed it) pubs (also restaurants catering to tourists). In fact, Angkor What? Bar (one of the oldest in Siem Reap, at 10 years and change) has a special: buy two pitchers of cocktails (not beer) at the same time and get a free t-shirt. Since people generally don't share t-shirts, this means that everyone (too cheap to spend $5 for a t-shirt) has to get two pitchers EACH. Good times. Basically, a Vang Vieng situation, but with an amazing historical site 15 minutes away.

And poverty was/is still a huge problem in Siem Reap. Lots of street kids selling things, lots of landmine victims begging. Plus, there's a great children's hospital that provides free service, but because its main source of revenue is charitable contributions made by tourists and tourism is down 70% in Cambodia, it looks like life for Siem Reap's poor children will be getting even tougher.