On The Road

After much hemming and hawing I finally sat down one night and bought a bunch of tickets until my credit card cut me off. On the itinerary: Baltimore, NYC, Burlington, Vermont and finally Iceland. Why Iceland I've been asked? Almost two years when I was sequestered in a leach infested, silent retreat in the hills of Sri Lanka lounging on my concrete bed, I read a book called "Geography of Bliss" by Eric Weiner. The author visits the world's happiest places as purported by a happiness index developed by a Swiss? Dutch? (I can't exactly remember) scientist. Thailand made the cut for it's "Mai pen rai" or "Don't worry about it" attitude. The US did not. Iceland did. More about Iceland later. I haven't been there yet. I started my trip in Baltimore. A seemingly unhappy place. Baltimore lost half it's population between 1950 and 2000 and another 10% since then. It's evident when you drive through many neighborhoods and entire blocks of brick row houses have broken glass, boarded up windows and the streets are deserted. I was there less to see Baltimore and more to visit a very pregnant Sarah and her husband Seri. Two weeks from her due date and temperatures over 100 with an even higher heat index, we didn't much leave the comfort of her air conditioned apartment, cold beer in the frig. A wind and lightning storm that knocked down a bunch of trees and killed the lights for a few days in some neighborhoods made me wonder if I was in a developing country. We did manage to get to Amish country. Just as you would expect: horse drawn buggies, bowl hair cuts, pickled veggies and handmade quilts, and cell phones. OK, I only saw one kid with a cell phone and he may have been Menonite but I learned that some Amish churches do allow the use of cell phones. I also learned it really goes against their beliefs to be photographed. (The accomapanying photo was taken before I knew this.) Amish country is pretty tourist focused and they earn their some of their income by selling homemade products (see reference to pickled vegetables and quilts) and charging for buggy rides. We did happen across a legitimate Amish auction. I accidentally bought a buggy by nodding my head at the wrong moment. It's being shipped home now. Just need to pick up a Clydesdale to go with it. I wonder what kind of license I'll need in CA. Lots of really great antiques on the auction block; furniture, tools, a professional photographers studio camera from the 1800's. I tried to seruptitiously take photos but mostly got the top of the tent or my feet. It was a challenge to follow along with the high speed talking and subtle cues from the audience. Kind of like betting at Lumpini on a muay thai boxing match. Six days and it was time to let the pregnant lady rest and move up the coast to NY, where it was only in the high 90s. Sorry, I can't attach photos from my iPad. Stupid thing.

Pair a dice

Just another day in paradise.

Finished five days in Krabi, Thailand, possibly one of my favorite places on earth. I had a number of spectacular days, but there was one in particular that might qualify as "the perfect" one.

Rose at a reasonable time, not always easy with early bird Tammy rustling around. Dined on tropical fruit, a fluffy pancake and dark coffee. Hired a rock climbing guide and spent the morning climbing the cliffs of Krabi with spectacular views to be had as reward at the summit. Lunch on some of the best som tom pet gap kao nieow (spicy papaya salad with sticky rice) with a pineapple shake. I had to specify the spicy part with all the tourists around watering down the Thai cuisine with their meek palates. It lived up to its name. I barely survived. The afternoon was spent lounging on white sand beaches with cooling dips in the tropical waters of the Andaman Sea. Back to the room for a cold shower then off for the pulling, pushing and prodding of a full body Thai massage. The girl was so cute, she gave me a hug at the end. Evening was capped off with a dinner of green curry with chicken and rice and an evening walk on the beach. Only monsoon rains could persuade to go inside.

If you're ridiculously jealous (and I would be if I were you), you can have this too. Summer is low season in Thailand and crazy low prices were absurdly low.

Room: $12.50 a night
Massage: $8.50
Meal: $3.50

I don't even want to tell you about the three and a half hour spa treatment at the fancy resort.

The Wild Life

I think I may need to center more of my holidays around spotting elusive and endangered animals.

We visited Yala National Park in the southeast corner of Sri Lanka to spot us some wildlife and that we did. This event was the most anticipated of the trip and did not disappoint. Rising at 4:30 for breakfast, we were on the road by 5:00 for a dawn arrival. At the park entrance we were due to pick up a tracker but the government failed to provide despite having already paid. Fortunately, we had Tammy and she took over the tracker seat (mostly due to car sickness). On a bladder emptying mission shortly prrior to take off, I crossed paths with a wild boar. We were to see many more.

Animals are most active at dawn and dusk because it's too damn hot to do anything in the middle of day. Slated for a full day of animal spotting we spent the morning racing around the park in a Range Rover (thank you British engineering) along with a bunch of other people doing the same. Before lunch I had stared down a leopard and a wild elephant. At least I think I won because no one tried to eat me. Fortunately, my camera battery died which freed me to actually look at the animals rather than getting that perfect shot. But no worries, we had Tammy, the ever trusty James and three Aussies snapping shots with promises to e-mail the results.

We spotted a leopard (get it?) early in the day maybe 4 meters off the road. There are only 35 in the park so not a common sighting. With elephants numbering around 250 we first came across a young male. He walked up to the truck and was close enough for me to touch. I just looked him in the eye and showed no fear (and made sure none of my body parts were hanging out), we exchanged an understanding and he meandered along. Afterward, the slightly agitated driver betrayed the danger of interacting with wild elephants. Apparently they trample when feeling threatening. Sri Lankan brush with death #46.

Numerous other elephants sightings privyed us to such ritual as the tear/stomp/tear method of eating, the twirl/rip water lily method of eating, and a close up of the throw dirt on back cooling ritual. There are some good pics of this one. Not to be forgotten, those prehistoric creatures, the crocodile was to be found around many a watering hole. I counted over 20 at one particular oasis. The masters of the staring contest wild boar traveled in packs, groupings of spotted deer I once mistook for a leopard, the lone mongoose, brilliant peacocks in this dusty environ (who knew they could fly), loads of beautiful birds with terrible names, the skittery hare, and snake suspected to be a cobra but unconfirmed. We only missed the sloth bear. Too slow I guess. It was A-mazing. I'm ready for Africa.

My final wildlife experience came the day we left. Bussing up the coast to Colombo to catch our flight out I really wanted to stop at the turtle hatchery. I geeked out and asked tons of sciency questions. There are greenback, olive ridley, hawksbill and leatherback turtles that nest off the coast of Sril Lanka. Apparently turtle omelets are a tasty treat among the locals having the expected detrimental effects on the turtle population. Some hatcheries have popped up and pay above market value for the eggs then grow them in their turtle garden to be released under the cover of night, lest one be picked off by a ravenous crow or eagle. We held two day old turtles, met Stevie the blind tsunami survivor and scratched the back end of an albino turtle. With our hosts, two English volunteers, we dug down to check the progress of turtles planted on May 23rd. Turns out they were breaking free of their shells and clamoring to the surface. Instinctively, they knew the direction of the ocean and started making their way. Almost as quickly, the predators began to circle. We plopped them into a bucket and waited 4 hours until sundown then released them on the beach. Forty odd baby turtles smaller than the palm of my hand scurrying into the turbulent surf was very cute and very funny as they were tossed about but undeterred.

I like animals.

the hills

Much to report since my last check in. We're still in Sri Lanka and I've all but given up the fight to not get bit by my arch nemesis, the tiny mosquito. I sit here scratching away and tempting fate as they circle my ankles in their invisible way.

Tammy and I have made it to the south of Sri Lanka and tomorrow we are due to go on safari. This is the part I've been waiting for! Our group has grown and morphed from 2 to 3 to 7 to 5 and now 6. People have come and gone but James has remained a constant. James is our Irish boxer/teacher from Doha, Qatar and trusty side kick. There really aren't many western tourists, at least not many traveling the way we are, and we have a tendency to clump together. Until this trip I thought being a teacher at an all-girls was as close to celebrity as I would come. Turns out being a whitey in Sri Lanka is even closer. I have a number of potential husbands lined up and the children have no compunction about staring and staring.

Our route since the north has been through Kandy in the mountains (I was slightly disappointed to find the streets were not paved with gumdrops and lined with lollipop trees), then to Nilambe for a silent meditation retreat, back through Kandy and down to Nuwara Eliya for tea plantation hoping, then Ella, followed by Arugam Bay for surf watching and wave riding, now we're at Yala National Park for animal sightings.

I've been listening to James tell and retell our Nilambe mediation experience where he's paranoid about cannibals and took a picture of a ghost in his room. My experience was a little different. Nilambe is set in the hills of Sri Lanka. I mean THE HILLS. Entering the grounds launched the next 48 hours of silence, save for the half hour between 4:00 and 4:30 when we could practice mindful speech. I mistakenly thought I would be bored here and get a lot of reading done. Turns out the 5 hours of daily meditation and no electricity really limits your free time.

The day started with the 4:45 a.m. gong for morning meditation at 5:00. This means strapping on the head lamp, crawling out from under the mosquito net, rolling off the cement slab bed, scanning the room for other large insects then traipsing outside to use the squat toilet. Seated meditation took place throughout the day for one to 1.5 hour intervals, followed by tea or a snack. There was also a working meditation, nature meditation, walking, standing and seated mediation, evening chanting with a monk (my favorite time) and yoga. We were served two vegetarian meals a day and stale bread (no joke) in the evening. This came to 500 Sri Lankan rupees per day, about $4.50. My time in Nilambe did not reveal much to me about myself, although I enjoyed the sustained quiet. However, I did learn that leaches don't like Tiger Balm and rats will eat soap. Upon departure, we were thrust back into the real world after the first bus back to town rejected us but the second let us on. Then it let on more and more people until you were ass to ass with the person standing behind you and had no need to hang on for there was no where to fall down.

The hill country is full of tea plantations and the ride from Kandy to Nuwara Eliya offers the most amazing views One would be wise to pop a Dramamine We had the brilliant idea to rent bikes and coast a cool 11km downhill along the highway to visit a tea plantation. Problem was coming home meant going uphill to 2000 meters. My initial calculations misinterpreted the height to be about 2000 ft shy of its 6128 ft.. I usually try not to exert myself in this way.

Sri Lanka used to be called Ceylon hence the preponderance of tea plantations which were found to be successful after the coffee crops crashed. This is where Lipton got its start. Then in 1948, Sri Lanka gained independence from its Dutch and English invaders. The tea plantations were taken over by the government and Sri Lanka is now the number two exporter of tea in the world, following India.

Sri Lankan food consists mainly of curries served with a pile of rice or string hoppers (noodles formed into patties) meant to be eaten with the hands. The curries can be of fish, beef, chicken or veggies like potatoes, okra, eggplant.... This can be part of breakfast, lunch or dinner. We've been eating curry for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I'm pretty sure I smell like curry. There's also coconut sambol, a shredded coconut and chili dish, served with breakfast. My favorite snack is vegetarian roti, a flat bread stuffed with spicy potatoes and veg and folded into a triangle. I was expecting the food to be spicier than it is and unfortunately there aren't many restaurants so we often eat in the guest house where the food has been tamed for the western palate. However, the fruit selection is amazing with mango, pineapple, rambutan and lots of coconut.

the driver wants to live too

This is my mantra I use when I find myself with eyes squeezed shut, breath held, and fists balled. Reminding myself that the driver wants to live to see tomorrow seems to help calm me down. I haven't yet decided if it's better to watch where were going or not. Today I was forced to watch, crammed in the front of the bus, practically sitting in the windshield with standing room only and bodies pressed up behind me. For two hours. I should have been wary when the bus attendant let Tammy and I board with full backpacks on an already stuffed bus. We weren't the last people to get on. If I could have loosened my grip to take out my camera you would be able to learn a lot about Sri Lankan daily life from that trip.

The bus trip usually starts off with a quick offering and prayer to a roadside deity. Insurance so to speak. Yesterday, we were on a bus decked out in Jesus wear and we stopped to pray to Lakshmi, just to cover all the bases. The bus, a cacophony of blaring Hindi pop, constant honking and blinking lights, takes full advantage of both lanes of traffic swerving around people walking and on bikes, the errant cow grazing its cud or dog scratching its fleas, tractors, and other vehicles. Driving is a constant game of chicken on windy roads. The driver is upshifting and downshifting, jerking the steering wheel and breaking hard to let passengers on or off, all while adjusting the music, using his cell phone or talking to the attendant. The alternative is the train where it took 6 hours for a 3.5 hour trip. But it's beautiful countryside.

I didn't imagine Sri Lanka to be so lush and green. Palm and mango trees, hibiscus flowers and other unidentifiable foliage, emerald green rice paddies. I never get tired of looking out the window. Men wear sarongs with or without a shirt, the women in saris and dark chocolate skin with the whitest teeth I've ever seen. The people are very friendly and the children treat us like celebrities. I still can't determine if the head wobble means yes or no. Besides the cows and dogs, there are gaggles of monkey, the most amazing birds and reptiles, elephants and yesterday a gigantic "not a garder" snake crossed our path. We haven't even been on safari yet. I can't wait to see crocidiles, sloths, panthers, more elephants and whatever else this tiny teardrop island nation holds (except the mosquitoes).

Thus far, we've ventured to the ancient cities of Anuradhapura and Sigiriya. To be fair, we've both been to Angkor Wat, I've been to Macchu Picchu and Tammy's been to Burma, so we might be less appreciative than we should. I've also learned that a World Heritage Site designation by Unesco makes a huge difference in the quality of the experience. Sigiriya has been designated WHS but not Anuradhapura and it was obvious in the amount of trash, lack of information, and quality of upkeep.

Please forgive me as I geology geek out. Sigiriya, literally 'Lion Rock" in Singhalese, is a volcanic plug formed from hardened lava in the mouth of a volcano that has since eroded away. Then 1600 years ago a Sri Lankan king with an ego problem and poor familial relations decided to build his summer home on top of it. Of course he made sure to stock it with his 15,000 concubines and lest he should have to walk up the 1200 steps to his bedroom, had his soldiers ferry him up. He took extreme security measures to guard against his brothers, one of whom already killed their father, with 2 crocodile filled moats, ramparts, an army and rocks set ready to come rocketing down the hill should someone get too far in. But the aesthetic side of him insisted on a water garden, fountain garden, and boulder garden with like 6 swimming pools. Of course, this being his summer cabin, someone had to hand pump the water to his rock top swimming pool 200 meters up. For further appreciation of the female form, concubines were painted on the walls. Although the setting was amazing, it was a little too windy for me.

Disclaimer: It's been quite a pain to download photos so there may not be any for a while. Please forgive me. Try to use your imagination instead.

194 degrees

According to my calculations: (90C x 1.8) + 32 = 194F. I think the oven starts at 175F. That means that sitting in a sauna is literally like sitting in an oven. Only you can't cook anything at that temperature, it's just the warming function. Good news.

Visiting an onsen is a time-honored Japanese tradition. An onsen differs from a sento due to the mineral properties found in the water at an onsen. Following the requisite scrub down, a cornucopia of choices are presented. Multiple baths with different water temperatures, mineral properties, with or without jets, in or outdoors. A steam room and showers with misting or tornado features. My fav has to be the sauna.

I love that feeling of slow roasting until dizzy then jumping in a pool of cold water that first steals your breath then feels cool and comforting. Take a sip of water and do it again.

Tammy was a little nervous as we checked in and picked our polyester outfits for the day. She thought there might be something like a most wanted list behind the counter. Her last visit ended with her expulsion due to her tatoo. Turns out tatoos are associated with the yakuza, Japanese mafia and are not allowed in most onsens. Fortunately, no one ratted her out on this turn.

This particular onsen in the Tokyo dome was massive and modern. The locker room held over 1000 lockers on the women's side alone and spanned 4 floors. An electronic wristband, the ONLY thing you are wearing, grants access to lock and unlock your belongings, order dinner, get a massage and any number of beauty treatments. The bill comes at the end at check out and I can see it would be easy to rack up the charges. We were there for 7 hours and only because Tammy forced me to go home.

My other two favorite Tokyo adventures were the sculpture garden in Hakone (not actually in Tokyo) and the Tsukiji Fish Market. Both of which reminded me of Seattle.

Hakone is a get-a-way for frazzled Tokyoites, where they all go together to get away from the hustle and bustle and crowds of the big city. The trip out to Hakone featured a dazzling view of Mt. Fuji as I picked a sunny day. I was stuck by the verdance and lushosity of the vegetative life. Hakone is more a region than a town. It features a mountain lake to be viewed by FUNicular, steaming mountainside of volcanic activity, a cable car, a sweet little train and the sculpture garden. Sorry Seattle, Hakone has you beat. Although both gardens have pieces by Alexander Calder and Seattle has the advantage of being free, Hakone has fried egg benches and a sculpture that takes you underground through narrow, winding and dark passageways to sit on a tiny stool and gaze through a tiny hole showing the sky. It was rad.

And sorry Seattle, I love you, I really do, but the Japanese are way serious about their fish. None of this kitchy fish throwing business. We're efficient. Visiting Tsukiji Fish Market is an exercise in being aware of your surroundings lest you find yourself run over by a cart zipping around to deliver all manner of fish in their stages of preparation, simply stepping in fish guts or find yourself impeding commerce. I really can't understand how they let tourists visit. We are a danger to ourselves and others. Motorized carts move fast, are many and navigate narrow aisles. Then with our gawking and incessant photo taking, it's hard for the people who actually
come to buy fish to actually buy fish. It was amazing to see a Steinhart Aquarium of fish there and to think that was just a Wednesday. They start with whole frozen fish on one end of the market and serve it up for brekkie on the other end.

I'm a little behind with my reporting as I am now in Bangkok and have already spent a week in Kyoto. Next stop, Sri Lanka in two days.

so many people

Tokyo Day 8. Today started the rainy season and they mean it. The weekend has ended, the work week begun. I like to fashion myself an amateur anthropologist and Tokyo is rife with observation.

Tokyo is a big, crowded city. 34 million strong. But the streets are remarkably clean despite the glut of packaging and the dearth of garbage cans. The green movement has begun to be embraced with an elaborate system of waste disposal. There's burnable and non-burnable distinctions then PET recycling. Bottles need to be rinsed with caps removed, boxes broken down and tied up. Different types of garbage are collected on different days of the week. Electronics disposal requires contacting the manufacturer. There isn't much of a donation system for unwanted items. The urban culture is strongly centered around consumption of consumer goods, yet living spaces are tiny and disposal of unwanted goods expensive.

I've determined Tokyoites to be a sleep deprived people. Closed eyes and nodding heads are a common site on the subway, even for those who are standing. Many have long commutes and longer work hours. Salarymen can be identified by their black, blue or brown suit with their white or blue shirt and blue or gray tie accessorized by a soft cased briefcase. There are also their female counterparts though smaller in number. Office Ladies or OLs and housewives make up the majority of other women.

Weekends present the opportunity to break free from the drab work week. A visit to the Harajuku section of Tokyo made famous by Gwen Stefani and her tribe of Harajuku girls finds high school girls from the 'burbs in outlandish costumes. Little Bo Peeps stand next to goth girls with white tape crisscrossing their faces. They hang out on a bridge between the subway station and Yoyogi Park on Sundays waiting to be photographed. Yoyogi Park is filled with folks relaxing on the grass and walking along the pathways. There's also the rock-a-billy dancers with their pompadours and leather jackets, yo-yo aficionados, rock bands and amateur dance troupes.

Mostly the weekend is a good time to shop. Shopping areas are packed and you better keep moving lest risk getting trampled or poked in the eye by a parasol. Women teeter on 4 inch heels with perfect hair and make-up dressed in the latest fashions. Basically, I feel like an oafish slob at all times. I figure it's what's expected from me as an American anyway.