Don’t Censor Me

Writing a blog post and sending it through the great firewall of China may be a terrible idea. Especially because I’m about to give you all kinds of opinions on the country and they scanned a copy of my passport before giving me access to this computer.

Getting on to the net has been challenging. Which explains why it’s been an awfully long time since I’ve posted. Though Hong Kong was, in fact, the bastion of modernity and technology I expected it to be, it was also ridiculously expensive. Our hotel wanted to charge us the equivalent of $8 USD/hour to use their computers. After remembering the $0.25/hour we paid in Hanoi we opted out.

Once we got to Beijing the story was entirely different. According to our guidebook, the Beijing government took a fire in a local internet cafe as an excuse to crack down and heavily regulate public net locations around the city. Pow wandered in to one (though decided not to use the net there) and the way she described it to me sounded like she was talking about a speakeasy during prohibition in the US — a small sign, which led down a long alley, through a series of hallways. They might as well have required a special knock and a password to get in.

Now, however, we’re in Shanghai where even the local library offers internet use up for a reasonable price. And, frankly, after the blackout I’m happy to pay. Shanghai fancies itself a rival to Hong Kong. Attempting to out-earn the southern city and mark itself the most cosmopolitan and international of all Chinese cities. Which, frankly, makes the place extremely confusing. It’s in mainland China, where they frown on individuality and (supposedly) class division.  But it’s clearly trying very hard to be wealthy and attract international business.

It’s a perfect example of China as a whole. Mainly, since leaving the extremely Western city of Hong Kong, we’ve just felt confused. Nothing here on the mainland makes all that much sense. But sitting back and accepting the contradictions that abound have made it much easier to get along. All you can do when faced with a requirement or request that seems incredibly illogical is just shrug and go with it.

Once we learned to do that we’ve had a great time. One of our most fascinating stops (aside from, you know, the Great Wall and Tiananmen Square and stuff) has been Shanghai’s Little Vienna neighborhood. It’s a former Jewish ghetto where mostly Austrian Jews fled while escaping the Nazis during the holocaust. Though the Chinese hold the neighborhood up as a bastion of their kindliness and good hearted acceptance of all people, it’s, again, a bit of a contradiction. The neighborhood was located inside a Japanese-occupied section of Shanghai. And China basically handed the Jewish community over to the Japanese who, being Nazi allies, required the “stateless” Jews to remain entirely within the confines of the tenement community, which they called “Designated Area for Stateless Refugees”. (Though, it’s hard to complain about that, because the Gestapo wanted the Japanese to set up a death camp and send them there instead…)

The last real remaining bit of the ghetto is a synagogue (and extremely European-looking rows of housing blocks now occupied by locals). The synagogue  has been turned into a museum detailing the history of the neighborhood. The story goes that the Chinese consul-general in Vienna realized after the occupation that the only way Jews would be able to escape the country would be if they were issued visas to leave. Though China didn’t require them any type of visa or documentation to enter, unless you had a visa you weren’t allowed out of the country. So, Mr. Ho started issuing Chinese visas to as many people as he could.

Some 30,000 (depending on who you ask) people were saved by the consul-general before he lost his job — including a close friend of my mother who was born in Shanghai and (if I remember correctly) my grandfather who either obtained a real or fake Chinese visa to get out of Vienna and then went to New York instead (Mom/Ed/Nancy – can you elaborate on and/or correct that story in Comments?). Mr. Ho is now a bit of a national Chinese hero, though he died in San Francisco in 1997.

There’s not much of a Jewish community left in Shanghai — about 3000 people total. But it’s a fascinating piece of history. Especially for those of us descendants of Vienna’s Jews!

(There’s a short/moderately interesting story about this topic from NPR if you’re interested in hearing more:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=100522156

And if you’re REALLY interested in hearing more, a simple Google search brings up quite a bit of inforamation and first-hand accounts about life in the Shanghai ghetto.)

We’ve only got about a week left on our trip. After a few more days in Shanghai we’re headed back to Manila and then off to a beach in the north to relax and get a good vacation from our vacation. Still no hope of photos at the moment — but perhaps a big dump of images when we get back to Pow’s house and have access to a MAC!!!

Things We Miss

We’re officially half way through our trip at the moment, waiting to get on an overnight train from Hanoi and killing time at a nearby net cafe. Reading through blog posts, news, and stories from home it occurred to us that there are a few pleasures from our regular lives that are starting to become noticeably absent. So, I thought I’d just throw out a list of things we normally take for granted that both of us are looking forward to having again when we get home in just about three weeks:

Clean clothes

TV

Wardrobe variety (more the two total outfits)

Buying things without haggling

Crossing the street without feeling sheer panic and terror

Eating food without taking a Bismol pill just in case

Alone time

Fast internet

Taxi drivers that take you where you ask them to

Did I say TV?

Sleeping in the same bed for more then two nights in a row

Doing nothing

My iPhone

oh, and TiVo

The truth is, we’re having a great time. Giving up these few things, making some small sacrifices, and realizing that tasks here are just a bit more difficult to accomplish is a tiny price to pay. It’s certainly been worth it. But there’s definitely a reality setting in that I’m going to need a vacation when I get through with this vacation.

Ok, off to a cabin in the mountains!

What Line?

One of the major cultural differences between Thailand/Cambodia and Vietnam becomes clear when traveling in a crowd. We’ve now spent roughly four days in Ho Chi Minh City (which everyone there still calls Saigon) and Hanoi. Before coming here everyone couldn’t have been more friendly. Vietnam, however, is another story altogether. Maybe it’s because I’m an American (or simply just a foreigner), but I have yet to be standing on a line anywhere in this country where a local hasn’t simply stepped in front of me. Even at the airline ticket counter! The stewardess had our passports and a Vietnamese gentleman just pushed me aside and started chatting to the lady handing out tickets.

That being said, there’s a lot of fascinating and wonderful things to make Vietnam my favorite stop on the trip so far. And, frankly, now that all the pushing and shoving in crowds is culturally acceptable, I’ve allowed my east-coast Jersey attitude to come out a bit…

The first several days in Vietnam we spent in Saigon. We visited the “Reunification” Palace (which many of you may remember as the site of the fall of Southern Vietnam). The anti-American propaganda here is literally dripping off the walls. The tale, as the Vietnamese tell it, is that after the “imperialist” Americans and their “lackeys” were forced to leave the country, the “heroic” Northern Vietnamese “liberators” stormed the palace and “freed” the Southerners from the current president’s opression.

Our second day in Vietnam we spent sailing on the Mekong (pronounced May-kong not Mee-kong). It was incredibly beautiful — another story best told in pictures. (Let’s all keep our fingers crossed that Hong Kong will be the bastion of advanced technology (and fast laundry service) that Pow and I have been dreaming about).

Today was our one and only day in Hanoi. The city is very different from Saigon. The southern city was a bit of a shock to the system after Cambodia — tall buildings, 9 million people (and 4 million motorbikes), shiny convenience stores — it could have been Manhattan.

Hanoi, on the other hand, is much older. The streets are narrower and in the old town where we’re staying the buildings aren’t allowed to be built higher then the tallest tree. In the morning we went to Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum. It was a truly creepy and bizarre experience. The guards insist you take the whole thing very seriously and you are not allowed to speak inside. I’m still not entirely sure that his embalmed body is real. Though, they say that the mausoleum is closed three months out of the year when his body is sent to Russia for “upkeep”.

After that we went to the Hanoi Hilton. Though most of the jail that housed downed American fighter pilots is dedicated to the heroic Vietnamese political prisoners that were held there by the French, there was a small room that discussed the American history. They have John McCain’s flight suit on display and photos of him being rescued from West Lake here in the city after his plane went down. There’s also a propaganda video that ends by saying the jail’s Americans were released knowing they were lucky to have been imprisoned by the Vietnamese.

In the afternoon we met up with two university students from a group called Hanoi Kids. The two girls, aged about 21, were a financial planning student and an accounting student. They are trained by their student group to give tours around town. You can imagine that I had LOTS of questions about what it’s like to be a college student in Vietnam. They were extremely friendly and more then happy to answer my probably too-personal queries.

Here’s some of what I learned: Girls here live with their families until they get married. Both of our students still live at home. Though, I was told that it’s pretty customary for people to marry fairly young (totally understandable if you’re not allowed any freedom until you’re married). They do have divorce and it’s not uncommon (and Pow said there’s no divorce in the Philippines! According to her, once you are legally married the only state-based recourse if you decide you hate each other is to get a legal separation. After that you have to ask the Pope for an annulment! Also, legally, if a woman gets remarried within 90 days of her husband dying the state has a right to take her in for questioning, because they wonder if she killed her husband.).

We ran into one of the students’ friends while we were wandering around town. She was another university student – 21 years old, married since she was 18, and she has a baby. She very nervously said to us in broken English that if we would visit Hanoi University she would like to show us around.

I also learned that despite the propaganda, the Vietnamese don’t hate Americans. Our students said that the war is in the past and the Vietnamese like to look forward to the future. They want Americans to come and visit and learn about their culture. Though, when I joked that the sentiment was much more likely the attitude of younger Vietnamese, they had to admit that it was probably true. And, there have been a lot of random men on the street catcalling at me or simply yelling Hello! and Bye Bye! I’m not sure if it’s meant to be friendly or to point out the fact that I’m a foreigner.

Pow is still managing to pass as a local. In each of the countries we’ve visited so far, natives always start conversations with her in their local languages. She always laughs and says “I’m Filipino!” and they reply:  “You look Thai!” In Cambodia, Pow was sitting in a local internet cafe (without me) and at some point foreign travelers started coming up to her asking what the rates were. She finally got tired of explaining she was Filipino and just told them how much it cost to use the computer.

Ok, the last thing I’ll say about Vietnam is that the food is EVERYTHING we were hoping it would be and more. The combination of Asian and French cuisine has made eating here, well, awesome. Pho (noodle soup with beef and scallions), steamed rice paper with pate and mint leaves, french bread and various smoked meats, white fish in a hot pot with dill, noodles, and shrimp paste. Every meal we’ve had so far has been amazing. And I’m pretty sure that’s not just because we got tired of curry.

Tomorrow we sail on a junk overnight around HaLong Bay, then we take an overnight train up to Sapa in the northern mountains where we’ll go to some hill tribe villages and stay at an electricity-free lodge on a hilltop. Looking forward to a little more relaxation and a little less HEAT (it’s been in the high 90s low 100s for the last 21 days).

Will be net-less until Hong Kong in about four or more days.

Hooray For Pho!

You may not know this, but Cambodian cuisine is almost exactly the same as Thai but less spicy (or, as Pow likes to say, more bland — though take that with a grain of salt because her Asian palate is biased. When she first moved to New York from Manila she thought American food “was so bland!”).

Because of the similarities that means for the last 17 days we have been eating basically a variation on the same dish: yellow, green, or red curry, various vegetables, some sort of meat (beef, chicken, tofu, shrimp), occasionally mixed with coconut milk, tossed with noodles or steamed rice on the side. Of course, we’ve eaten a few other dishes here and there (and even gone to a few Pakistani/Indian places and a Mexican restaurant in Phnom Penh to fulfill the craving I’ve had for guacamole since my plane left the tarmac in San Francisco). But, the reality is, I’m a little through with curry. Sorry Thais.

Which is why I’m extremely excited that today we’re off to Vietnam! Hooray for Pho! And clear broth, french bread sandwiches, and noodle salads with fresh mint!

Cambodia, for what it’s worth, has been an absolutely amazing place. It’s one of the poorest countries in the world (according to my guidebook) but the people here are incredibly friendly. They have big smiles and absolutely fantastic senses of humor – we’ve laughed a lot since we’ve been here. It’s also remarkably dusty and I’ve been coughing for a week, which hasn’t been helping me to get over my chest cold….

We got to Cambodia by bus and when we arrived at the border we quickly realized the new bus they were ushering us to was going to be torture for six hours. So we went in on a shared taxi with a very nice older French gentleman named Giles who was traveling alone (“You’ve got a good president now!” he said when I introduced myself as an American — and then he proceeded to make fun of me and Bush for the next several hours.)

The taxi took three hours (instead of the bus’s six) to get to Siem Reap, where the temples of Angkor are located — Angkor Wat, if you don’t know, is just one of many temples sprinkled around the countryside. And, by the way, that Cambodian sense of humor comes through in the name of the town. Siem Reap means “Siam defeated” — the Cambodians way of telling everyone that even though the Thais conquered and ruled them for a little while, they never got their hands on Angkor!

We hired a Tuk Tuk driver and a guide to show us the temples and, over the next several days, climbed over and through some incredibly beautiful monuments to ancient Cambodian architecture and design. (More on that in photo form later.)

Then it was another 6 hour bus ride to Phnom Penh. The city is really a stark difference to the incredibly tiny villages and wood huts that dot the countryside. The construction here is very new, for the most part, and the whole place looks as though it has been lifted out of a country in Europe and plopped in the middle of Cambodia. It’s lovely really.

The only major downside – and take this all with some skepticism as I’ve only had one day here – is that, while there’s been a visible difference between the Have’s and the Have Not’s in all the other countries we’ve seen, here, everyone seems to have not. Except, of course, for the expats and tourists. It must be difficult to see so many rich people march through your town on a regular basis and take their expensive cameras and money belts with them. Which is why I’m not too angry about the guys who drove up next to our Tuk Tuk on a motorbike and grabbed my bag — though if I hadn’t been able to wrestle it back from him and yell “Nice try!” I might be singing a different song.

Ok, well, now you’re mostly caught up. I realize I’ve skipped most of Thailand and haven’t even mentioned Bangkok, but it’s been so long since I’ve sat at a computer that actually displays letters as soon as I type them and not minutes later I thought I’d skip ahead. As soon as I get to a computer that has a working USB drive and is fast enough to display my photos I’ll do a round up of everywhere else we’ve been.

Off to Saigon!

Oh Mai

(Sorry for the title…Chiang Mai isn’t very punny.)

Anyhoo, we’re literally days and days ahead of this blog post – but our days have been so full there’s been little time for posting! So, let’s travel back in time to last week when Pow and I ventured to Thailand!

The country was originally known as Siam and the word is actually pronounced S-i-ahh-m. (Not S-i-yaaam as we American’s like to say. Could that be becuase of the way those Siamese cats pronounced it in Land and The Tramp?).

Our first stop in Thailand was Chiang Mai (which I have also seen spelled Chieng Mai and Chiangmai). It’s a medium-sized city in the North, which I’m pretty sure was a capital at one point and is known for its 700 Wats (that’s the Thai word for Temple.)

The first thing we did upon arriving in town was hike up the mountain, uh, in a bus, to see Phrathat Doi Suthep. It’s the most famous Wat in town. The spot where it stands was said to have been chosen by a white elephant. The king gave the elephant a sacred Budha relic and sent him on his way. The animal climbed to the top of the mountain, turned around in a circle three times, and knelt down to mark the spot for the temple. Then it promptly died.

On our second day in Chiang Mai we spent mostly wandering around looking at Wats – a story best told through pictures. Unfortunately, the USB drive isn’t working on the computer I’m on, so I can’t show you any photos.

But, if you remember the final picture from the last post, you’ll see that we saw some fascinating traditional dancing. That was taken at the Chiang Mai Cultural Center where they treated us to dinner and dancing. The picture is of the traditional finger dance.

On our last day in Chiang Mai we took a day-long cooking course. The course was taught (in part) by a celebrity TV chef. Our class was making curries, which involves a ton of different spices all mashed up together with a mortar and pestel. It’s quite a lot of work, but the food was delicious. And, good news everyone, they gave us a cookbook! So, there’s a good chance I’ll have a Thai curry party when I get home.

After Chiang Mai we headed south to Krabi, Ao Nang, Railay, and the Phi Phi islands (prounounced Pee Pee). If you remember your hollywood history, the Phi Phi islands are where they filmed that historic Leonarde DiCaprio flick The Beach.

Krabi, frankly, kicked our asses. Now in Bangkok, we’re currently overcoming: sunburn, a mild and a not so mild case of traveller’s tummy, jellyfish stings, and, well, we’re exhausted. But boy was it worth it. And here’s a random picture from the internets to show you why:

http://www.thailandmagic.com/phi%20phi%20islands/Phi%20Phi%20Islands%20famous%20Maya%20Beach.jpg

Manila – It’s Not Just an Envelope

Did you know that the reason they call it a Manila envelope is because the tan folder was originally made with Manila hemp? I got that from Wikipedia, so, you know, grain of salt and all.

Our last day in the Philippenes was spent running around Manila. Though, running isn’t quite the word for it — more like slowly crawling through traffic. Our first and most exciting stop of the day was at the Manila Hotel. Aside from the fact that it’s where General MacArthur stayed during WWII, it’s also home to a bit of family history. You see, my dad was quite a world traveler. His uncountable frequent flier miles resulted in an invitation to fly on the 50th anniversary round-the-world flight of the Pan Am China Clipper.

The flight he was on stopped in Manila and everyone on board headed over the Manila Hotel for a big party where they were greeted by none other then Imelda Marcos (former Philippines first lady). My dad had the honor of dancing with her. So, naturally, I had to go see the ballroom in person. Unfortunately, they only open the ballroom on special occasions. But I told them my dad’s Imelda story and, well, they were pretty excited to show me around!

Me on the Grand Staircase in the Manila Hotel ballroom.

Manila Hotel Lobby

Manila Hotel ballroom

Anyway, that one was for you, Dad.

After the Manila Hotel we went to a Dampa, which means literally “on the ground” or “by the ocean.” But, it’s really just a lunch spot. You go to a stand selling fresh food – vegetables, seafood, etc., pick your ingredients, and then take them inside to be cooked. We went to a seafood spot and picked: Crab (which we asked to have cooked with sweet chili sauce), Prawns (cooked with butter and garlic), and Mussels (grilled and topped with cheese). Wow. It was delicious:

Pow haggling for lunch.

Extremely fresh young coconut milk.

Prawns!

Our last adventure for the day before heading off to the airport was a walking tour of old town Manila hosted by Pow’s sister’s friend’s cousin. Our guide was more of an actor then a guide and, as you can tell from the pics below, Manila has a sordid history with the US (we get made fun of a lot on this tour…). If it’s even possible to sum up the entire history of Manila and the Philippines in one paragraph it would go something like this:

Spain lands and builds chapels and later cathedrals to convert everyone to Catholocism. Eventually, the US buys the country from Spain for a few million dollars (in a deal that also includes Guam and some other island nations). The city of Manila goes from small town to big city nearly overnight. Japan marches in during World War II, occupies the city, and slaughters almost 75,000 people when they realize they can’t hold on to it. MacArthur, who is more of a showman then an actual military man, bombs the city to the ground in an attempt to oust the Japanese. 150,000 people die and the city is destroyed — along with most of its Spanish heritage.

Truly a sad tale, but the upside is that Manila really seems to be making a comeback in a big way. Two of the world’s largest malls are here (the world’s largest mall, big surprise,  is the Mall of America in the US). And, if commerce is any indication of the health of a city, I’d say Manila is doing just fine.

Carlos, our tourguide, explaining the US impact on Manila.

More fun with Americans.

Pow and I are currently in the north of Thailand in a city called Chiang Mai, getting ready to head off to Krabi — a beach in the south. But I’ll save that for another day. Here’s a little taste of what’s to come:

Traditional Thai fingernail dance.

There’s Traffic in Manila

There are more cars then you can imagine in Manila. In fact, there’s so much traffic here that residents aren’t allowed to drive their cars every day of the week. The last number on your license plate determines the day of the week you’re allowed to have your car on the road. Theoretically, this should work to keep cars off the road and lower congestion. But, as Pow says, “Everybody just buys more cars!” — if you have lots of cars, then you have a good chance of being able to drive on every day of the week.

Pow lives in a gated community within Makati, which technically is part of Manila. According Pow, saying “Manila” is the same thing as saying “Bay Area”. There are lots of little cities that make up the general area of Manila. For my first day in the Philippines, Pow wanted to treat me to a Filipino meal. This is not exactly an easy task, as the country is an amalgam of many cuisines and traditions. The islands were originally discovered (or “re-discovered” as they teach in the local schools here – because the Filipinos were always here!) by the Spanish who promptly settled here, converted everybody to Catholicism, and took over the government. Then later, in the 1940s, the Japanese moved in. But they were only here for a year when the Americans came in a kicked them out. The US finally left, sometime in the ’90s, but as you can imagine we left quite a mark (as always). Everyone in the country speaks English and all the media – TV, movies, magazines, ads, billboards, signs — are all in English.

This, by the way, is Pow:

So, Pow took me out of the city. Her family’s driver, John, brought us about 2 hours south through lots of little villages with folks selling just about anything you can imagine on the side of the road (including fighting cocks, the breed they call “Texas” (because Texans are tough?), which they are only allowed to fight on Sundays and holidays). Just outside of the town of San Pablo, down a windy road in the jungle was a small restaurant called Kusina Salud (www.kusinasalud.com). It’s managed by a friend of Pow’s sister, whose mother is a fashion designer in the Philippines and whose brother wrote for WIRED in the 90′s! The restaurant is in a very old Filipino house with a living area upstairs. Pow’s friend was nice enough to let us come up and look around. The traditional style means the area downstairs where the restaurant is would have originally been used for keeping the animals, with the family living above.

Here’s what we ate for my first East Asain meal! This is a bit of a modern-fusion twist on traditional Filipino food. The Filipinos always eat their meals family style:

Fried Lumpiang Ubod – Crisp fried hearts of palm spring rolls served with spicy vinegar dip

Calamares At Kulawo – Battered and deep fried squid drizzled with light aioli, served with a cold salad of banana hearts and char-roasted coconut cream. (Banana hearts, by the way, come from the root end of the banana tree. They’re not sweet at all and taste very similar to hearts of palm. DELICIOUS.)

Kalabaw Sa Gata “Diablo” – Adobo braised water buffalo meat stewed with chiles and fresh coconut cream; served on a bed of poached baby papaya. (Adobo is a national dish here. Every region does it a different way.)

Hot Crispy Talapia – Deep fried whole Talapia served on stir-fried Asian greens topped with spicy sweet and sour fresh mango sauce.

Turon of Banana and Jackfruit – served a la mode, drizzled with native coconut caramel suache and sesame seeds.

Guinanatuan – Rustic stew of purple yam and saba bananas in rich coconut milk served with local “tongue” bicuits. (Tongue biscuits look like thin lady-fingers and are made to look like cat tongues.)

Today we’re off to old town Manila – built like a fortress by the Spanish when they first moved in. We’ll get a tour by the Kusina Salud’s manager’s cousin (because everybody knows everybody on this island) and then tonight we fly to Thailand. More on that later.

Here are some pics from lunch, the restaurant, and the drive back and forth from Manila.

Kusina Salud restaurant entrance.

Our table at Kusina Salad.

Lunch!

Talapia

The living space upstairs.

The view from the raod.

Never Fly at Midnight

Hello universe! I’m just about ready to get on my flight to Manila. I’ll be leaving Saturday night and arriving in the Philippenes Monday morning. Sunday, of course, is my birthday and – thanks to the international date line – I’ll literally skip it. Ah well. The next 1.5 months will be enough of a celebration I think.

I realized recently I should have starting blogging this trip months ago. The amount of planning that goes into a vacation of this size is incredible. I’ve had tons of shots, more prescription drugs then you’d believe (anti-malaria, antibiotics, sleeping pills, the list goes on), hotel booking, trains, and planes, and visas…but I think that stuff is probably a little boring. My guess is that’s all you want to hear about it!

The best story of the bunch is this one: China REALLY doesn’t like American journalists. In order to get my single-entry visa I had to sign a document swearing I wouldn’t conduct any reporting or journalism while in the country. They also wanted a signed letter from my employer saying I wasn’t on assignment. As a freelancer, that wasn’t exactly possible, so they settled for a letter from me detailing what kind of journalist I was, what topics I cover, and more swearing that I’m not writing anything. The result is a Visa that has branded me a journalist on vacation. I fully expect harassment at every border and passport-showing location.

Anyway, that’s all over. Here’s the itinerary for the next six weeks:

Manila, Philippines –> Chaing Mai, Thailand –> Krabi, Thailand –> Bankok, Thailand –> Siem Reap, Cambodia –> Phnom Penh, Cambodia –> Saigon, Vietnam –> Meekong Delta boat trip –> Hanoi, Vietnam –> Hong Kong, Hong Kong –> 24-hour train ride to –> Beijing, China –> Anji, China –> Shanghai, China –> Manila, Philippenes (and a few towns on the outskirts) –> San Francisco!

Jealous?

P.S. The “Pow!” in the title refers to my friend Pow Belgado, who will be my travel buddy. No doubt, you’ll see posts here from her as well.