Sunday, February 8, 2009
A Word on My Fellow Tourists in Southeast Asia
Okay, more than a word. But if I were to pick just one, it would be dim (it would be better if I could pick three: not too bright). Actually, some of them are fine, but a few of them (including the one I was stuck rooming with the first couple of days) just seem a little slow. Like asking if Kosovo is a city slow (maybe she should get points for having heard of it) or using a calculator to figure out what 20% of 10 is slow. Or (and for some reason, this REALLY got to me) asking me the definition of "random." Okay, let me stop whining. The real trouble is that 6 of the people in the group are married couples in their 50s/60s (nice, but kind of wanting to hang out with their spouses or each other), 5 of the people are between the ages of 19-25 (they are less strict about just hanging out with each other, but are very much into being kids), and one of them doesn't really speak English but still wants to engage me in conversation. So, that leaves me with our tour guide and one relatively smart, interesting person who works with special needs kids. It could be worse: none of these people are actually unpleasant or crazy , just possibly not the people I'm going to be feeling nostalgic about a month or two from now. If that's the worst that I can say about them, I think the trip will be fine.
Laos: Even Better Than Thailand
As I mentioned, my short time in Thailand (I'll be back at the end of the month, and probably again in the not too distant future) was pretty great. So far, though, Laos has been even better.
First, there's the wackiness of the transport. Random tuk tuks and little boats aside, the main mode of transport from Thailand the Luang Prabang (where I've been since last night) was slow boat. Which is an incredibly relaxing way to get from A to B, and would have been perfect if mornings on the water hadn't been so cold.
Then, there's the food, which is really good (a lot like Thai, really, but maybe just a little better, thanks to the French influence). Plus, the shopping has been good (and for a non-shopper, that's saying something). Who can resist beautiful (although possibly not handmade) scarves being sold for about $3? Not I.
Today (my first full day in Luang Prabang) has been great, although I'm amazed that I'm still standing. I woke up at 4:50 a.m. (earlier than for a morning game drive) to go feed the monks (which sounded great in theory but was a little too tourist-heavy). After that, we went to the morning market: excellent. Not only did we get to sample some pretty amazing food that was made as we waited, but we got to see some of the pretty insane food that the locals eat (bats, tadpoles, moles, parakeets). I am really looking forward to posting those photos. Following that, a few of us went with our guide to hang out at a local favorite that serves Lao coffee (crazy strong with a shot of condensed milk, like my great grandmother used to drink). Then breakfast, a tour of the Royal Palace (with some sketchy info as to whether the entire royal family was killed in 1975), a walk around town, an amazing lunch at a kind of posh restaurant (posh = $5-7 entrees), and a 90 minute massage. And I still have HOURS to go (we're going out at 10 to experience the Luang Prabang club scene). Excellent day.
First, there's the wackiness of the transport. Random tuk tuks and little boats aside, the main mode of transport from Thailand the Luang Prabang (where I've been since last night) was slow boat. Which is an incredibly relaxing way to get from A to B, and would have been perfect if mornings on the water hadn't been so cold.
Then, there's the food, which is really good (a lot like Thai, really, but maybe just a little better, thanks to the French influence). Plus, the shopping has been good (and for a non-shopper, that's saying something). Who can resist beautiful (although possibly not handmade) scarves being sold for about $3? Not I.
Today (my first full day in Luang Prabang) has been great, although I'm amazed that I'm still standing. I woke up at 4:50 a.m. (earlier than for a morning game drive) to go feed the monks (which sounded great in theory but was a little too tourist-heavy). After that, we went to the morning market: excellent. Not only did we get to sample some pretty amazing food that was made as we waited, but we got to see some of the pretty insane food that the locals eat (bats, tadpoles, moles, parakeets). I am really looking forward to posting those photos. Following that, a few of us went with our guide to hang out at a local favorite that serves Lao coffee (crazy strong with a shot of condensed milk, like my great grandmother used to drink). Then breakfast, a tour of the Royal Palace (with some sketchy info as to whether the entire royal family was killed in 1975), a walk around town, an amazing lunch at a kind of posh restaurant (posh = $5-7 entrees), and a 90 minute massage. And I still have HOURS to go (we're going out at 10 to experience the Luang Prabang club scene). Excellent day.
Thailand Rocks
So, I may have already mentioned that Thailand is great, especially after the tough travel that was Ethiopia, and the strangely even tougher travel that was safari, due to (1) camping, (2) the loser tour guide and (3) the crazy people. While the overnight train was not the best time ever (not even the best overnight train ride ever; that honor goes to my train my Cairo to Aswan), Chiang Mai was pretty great. I took a cooking class in the morning (made spring rolls, tom yum with shrimp, pad thai, and red curry with chicken).
In the afternoon, I took care of errands, and the hotel staff was amazingly helpful (so helpful, in fact, that the concierge offered to let me ride on the back of the bell boy's motorcycle to the post office. I declined in favor of a still pretty hazardous tuk tuk). I am (slightly) ashamed to admit that I made some purchases at the Chiang Mai night market of which my trademark lawyer and prosecutor friends may not approve: a Louis Vuitton vernis wallet and a Tiffany necklace that did not set me back more than $20. So, possibly not authentic.
I spent my third Thai day in Chiang Kong. Highlights: getting haircut from someone who didn't speak a word of English (it looks great) and hanging out with my guide and some of her Thai friends afterward, sampling Thai whiskey and half a dozen Thai dishes, all while not understanding a word they were saying. It reminded me of the good times I had hanging out with the drivers in Ethiopia, except that they actually tried to teach me some of the language.
But, I've left Thailand now, and Laos deserves its own post(s). Thailand rating so far: A-/B+ (would be higher, except that I have yet to find the elusive too spicy for me Thai food).
In the afternoon, I took care of errands, and the hotel staff was amazingly helpful (so helpful, in fact, that the concierge offered to let me ride on the back of the bell boy's motorcycle to the post office. I declined in favor of a still pretty hazardous tuk tuk). I am (slightly) ashamed to admit that I made some purchases at the Chiang Mai night market of which my trademark lawyer and prosecutor friends may not approve: a Louis Vuitton vernis wallet and a Tiffany necklace that did not set me back more than $20. So, possibly not authentic.
I spent my third Thai day in Chiang Kong. Highlights: getting haircut from someone who didn't speak a word of English (it looks great) and hanging out with my guide and some of her Thai friends afterward, sampling Thai whiskey and half a dozen Thai dishes, all while not understanding a word they were saying. It reminded me of the good times I had hanging out with the drivers in Ethiopia, except that they actually tried to teach me some of the language.
But, I've left Thailand now, and Laos deserves its own post(s). Thailand rating so far: A-/B+ (would be higher, except that I have yet to find the elusive too spicy for me Thai food).
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Fellow Travelers in East Africa
Crazy people can be great, until you have to hang out with them all day, every day.
Yoda/Patricia gets the prize. Going braless as a busty 72 year old would normally be enough, but not for her. Add on biker chick head gear, a past that includes owning 2 strip clubs, having the bad luck to have an attack of diarrhea while lying in her sleeping bag and the bad sense to tell everyone about it, and a tendency to do her laundry in the nude in shared public bathrooms, and you start to get the flavor. Definitely the winner.The runners up pale in comparison.
On the good side, we had a lovely French-Canadian family: hip parents in their late 30s, charming sisters of 12 and 13 who were smart and well-adjusted enough to be taken out of school for an extended trip in southern and eastern Africa. Bonus points to the mother of the family for giving me her pee tube (yay!).
Also great: a father and daughter (mid 40s and late 60s) from North Carolina traveling as a pair for the first time. The daughter and I had a lot in common (well, enough in common, plus she's incredibly nice), so I'm not surprised that we hit it off. What surprised me more is how much I liked her father: a registered Republican, former army chaplain from the South who said grace (aloud) the first time I ate dinner with them. He was also a huge practical joker, a great father and a really sweet man. So, lots of good family dynamics on the trip.
An honorable mention goes to another traveler, in her late 60s. I never got to know her as well as I would have liked, but she was very cool: a native Alabaman who moved to Colorado in her 40s to get a PhD and an MPH, she'd trekked in Nepal several times (in her 60s), wore an Obama bracelet every day (despite having a Republican husband in tow, the one whose disappearance caused Crazy to take off her bra) and always had a smile on her face (even when Crazy stole her binoculars). It's always nice to meet cool women of a certain age. Such a contrast to the bossy Canadian woman on my Ethiopian trip.
Given the presence of 7 very likable people on my safari, I guess it's not a surprise that I'm still dreaming about them...
Yoda/Patricia gets the prize. Going braless as a busty 72 year old would normally be enough, but not for her. Add on biker chick head gear, a past that includes owning 2 strip clubs, having the bad luck to have an attack of diarrhea while lying in her sleeping bag and the bad sense to tell everyone about it, and a tendency to do her laundry in the nude in shared public bathrooms, and you start to get the flavor. Definitely the winner.The runners up pale in comparison.
On the good side, we had a lovely French-Canadian family: hip parents in their late 30s, charming sisters of 12 and 13 who were smart and well-adjusted enough to be taken out of school for an extended trip in southern and eastern Africa. Bonus points to the mother of the family for giving me her pee tube (yay!).
Also great: a father and daughter (mid 40s and late 60s) from North Carolina traveling as a pair for the first time. The daughter and I had a lot in common (well, enough in common, plus she's incredibly nice), so I'm not surprised that we hit it off. What surprised me more is how much I liked her father: a registered Republican, former army chaplain from the South who said grace (aloud) the first time I ate dinner with them. He was also a huge practical joker, a great father and a really sweet man. So, lots of good family dynamics on the trip.
An honorable mention goes to another traveler, in her late 60s. I never got to know her as well as I would have liked, but she was very cool: a native Alabaman who moved to Colorado in her 40s to get a PhD and an MPH, she'd trekked in Nepal several times (in her 60s), wore an Obama bracelet every day (despite having a Republican husband in tow, the one whose disappearance caused Crazy to take off her bra) and always had a smile on her face (even when Crazy stole her binoculars). It's always nice to meet cool women of a certain age. Such a contrast to the bossy Canadian woman on my Ethiopian trip.
Given the presence of 7 very likable people on my safari, I guess it's not a surprise that I'm still dreaming about them...
My First 24 Hours in Thailand
Thumbs up on the Bangkok airport. It's no Dubai International (my new favorite airport), but nice and clean with plenty of lovely duty free merchandise.
The hotel: a little run down, but clean and well air-conditioned. Plus, good, cheap, relatively spicy food served while relatively talented Thai locals sing karaoke. Good times.
I'm already leaving Bangkok (tear), on an overnight train to Chiang Mai. In the time I was here (there), I got to take a boat tour (Klong tour, according to my itinerary)and visit Wat Po (some excellent structures and statues of golden Buddhas) and the Grand Palace (ditto).
Fellow travelers: not bad, but not particularly well-traveled. (Maybe starting with Ethiopia has its advantages: I seem like a really seasoned traveler.). My roommate has pretty limited English and is on her first trip outside Europe. There's a significant age gap: three couples in their 50s, 6 singles in their 20s, and me. One of my goals for the month: convincing one of the 20somethings who is just wrapping up her 4th year of teaching English in Korea not to go to law school just because she can't figure out what to do with her life.
Finally, it seems that I already miss my fellow travelers from Tanzania (well, some of them, anyway). I dreamt that I was sharing a room with my new Swiss roommate plus all 6 of the other passengers in my safari vehicle. It beats the dreams I had in Zanzibar, in which my fellow travelers from Ethiopia kept getting together for dinner without me. Funny, though, that I only dream about these people once they're no longer there. I refuse to over-think it.
Coming soon: still more about Ethiopia, Kenya and Tanzania.
The hotel: a little run down, but clean and well air-conditioned. Plus, good, cheap, relatively spicy food served while relatively talented Thai locals sing karaoke. Good times.
I'm already leaving Bangkok (tear), on an overnight train to Chiang Mai. In the time I was here (there), I got to take a boat tour (Klong tour, according to my itinerary)and visit Wat Po (some excellent structures and statues of golden Buddhas) and the Grand Palace (ditto).
Fellow travelers: not bad, but not particularly well-traveled. (Maybe starting with Ethiopia has its advantages: I seem like a really seasoned traveler.). My roommate has pretty limited English and is on her first trip outside Europe. There's a significant age gap: three couples in their 50s, 6 singles in their 20s, and me. One of my goals for the month: convincing one of the 20somethings who is just wrapping up her 4th year of teaching English in Korea not to go to law school just because she can't figure out what to do with her life.
Finally, it seems that I already miss my fellow travelers from Tanzania (well, some of them, anyway). I dreamt that I was sharing a room with my new Swiss roommate plus all 6 of the other passengers in my safari vehicle. It beats the dreams I had in Zanzibar, in which my fellow travelers from Ethiopia kept getting together for dinner without me. Funny, though, that I only dream about these people once they're no longer there. I refuse to over-think it.
Coming soon: still more about Ethiopia, Kenya and Tanzania.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
why i should blog every day
I realized that I made a reference to the Mursi village, but that I never initially discussed that tribe (or any other tribe in the south of Ethiopia). More to follow when I upload photos, but for now, just a little background.
The Mursi women are the ones you've seen pictures of, even if you didn't know their name. They have plates in their lips and ears, and when you remove the plate, you're left with a lower lip that hangs several inches and does not catch drool. Not a great look. The Mursi women also like to go topless.
During the trip to the south, we paid them a visit. Problem one: the second they see tourists, they start grabbing them and yelling "Photo! 2 birr (20 cents)." It's the only English they know, and they're persistent.
Problem two: the Mursi women are obsessed with breasts. When they're not demanding photos, they're grabbing the breasts of female tourists and pulling down their shirts and bras to get a better look. And contrary to what the local guide said, grabbing their breasts back does NOT make them stop. They think it's hysterical.
Problem three: some of the women demanding that their photos be taken have AK47's. It makes rejecting them pretty exciting.
Another wacky group: the Hammer people. Also topless, but not grabby. My biggest problems with Hammer culture: (1) they have ceremonies where the men whip their female relatives until they bleed and have permanent scars. Apparently a sign of the women's devotion/loyalty; and (2) in order to marry a girl, regardless of her wishes, all a guy has to do is find her out in public (say, at the market) and put either cow dung or butter in her hand. And presto: they're married. As if getting cow dung on your hand wasn't bad enough...
The Mursi women are the ones you've seen pictures of, even if you didn't know their name. They have plates in their lips and ears, and when you remove the plate, you're left with a lower lip that hangs several inches and does not catch drool. Not a great look. The Mursi women also like to go topless.
During the trip to the south, we paid them a visit. Problem one: the second they see tourists, they start grabbing them and yelling "Photo! 2 birr (20 cents)." It's the only English they know, and they're persistent.
Problem two: the Mursi women are obsessed with breasts. When they're not demanding photos, they're grabbing the breasts of female tourists and pulling down their shirts and bras to get a better look. And contrary to what the local guide said, grabbing their breasts back does NOT make them stop. They think it's hysterical.
Problem three: some of the women demanding that their photos be taken have AK47's. It makes rejecting them pretty exciting.
Another wacky group: the Hammer people. Also topless, but not grabby. My biggest problems with Hammer culture: (1) they have ceremonies where the men whip their female relatives until they bleed and have permanent scars. Apparently a sign of the women's devotion/loyalty; and (2) in order to marry a girl, regardless of her wishes, all a guy has to do is find her out in public (say, at the market) and put either cow dung or butter in her hand. And presto: they're married. As if getting cow dung on your hand wasn't bad enough...
Some Thoughts on My Safari
I have mixed feelings about my safari. (I know, shocking.) Obviously, seeing scores of (adult and baby) lions, leopards, cheetahs, elephants, zebras, giraffes, rhinos, hippos, and other (somewhat less exciting) animals in their natural habitats was great.
Also great: visiting a Masai village in Kenya and an orphanage in Tanzania. (Great in very different ways, obviously.)
Plus, with the exception of a few campers who will get their own special entry, I liked my fellow tourists quite a bit.
Now, the bad. First, the tour leader was the worst I've ever had (his butchering of the English language, body odor and inability to comprehend personal space were bad enough, but the real problem was his inability to lead. Second, camping. I hate it. Especially since rainy season came early this year, and I spent my last night of camping in a wet tent on a wet mattress with a wet sleeping bag in temperatures approaching freezing (who knew the Ngorongoro Crater got so cold?) Not fun. Third (another big surprise): the toilets. Better than Ethiopia, but still a challenge.
For all my complaints about Ethiopia (and it was a tough trip), I think the tour leaders and drivers were so much better than the staff for safari that it's hard to believe it's the same company. Also, I think I prefer cultural tourism to just driving around looking at animals (although not the Mursi village breast attack type of cultural tourism).
Oh, and remember how I'm so popular in Africa because I'm black? Well, one Tanzanian was so pleased to see me that he yelled "Hey, Blackie! How ya doing?" as I walked down the street in Arusha. Smooth.
Also great: visiting a Masai village in Kenya and an orphanage in Tanzania. (Great in very different ways, obviously.)
Plus, with the exception of a few campers who will get their own special entry, I liked my fellow tourists quite a bit.
Now, the bad. First, the tour leader was the worst I've ever had (his butchering of the English language, body odor and inability to comprehend personal space were bad enough, but the real problem was his inability to lead. Second, camping. I hate it. Especially since rainy season came early this year, and I spent my last night of camping in a wet tent on a wet mattress with a wet sleeping bag in temperatures approaching freezing (who knew the Ngorongoro Crater got so cold?) Not fun. Third (another big surprise): the toilets. Better than Ethiopia, but still a challenge.
For all my complaints about Ethiopia (and it was a tough trip), I think the tour leaders and drivers were so much better than the staff for safari that it's hard to believe it's the same company. Also, I think I prefer cultural tourism to just driving around looking at animals (although not the Mursi village breast attack type of cultural tourism).
Oh, and remember how I'm so popular in Africa because I'm black? Well, one Tanzanian was so pleased to see me that he yelled "Hey, Blackie! How ya doing?" as I walked down the street in Arusha. Smooth.
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