Leaving on a jet plane . . .

Oh, the possibilities!!

sierrayla-1 — Tue, 7 Oct 2014 19:43:00 GMT

October 6, 2014

Koh Rong Island, Cambodia

The ride from Siem Reap to Kratie was a bit rough. We had booked with Siem Reap World Trip Travel in the Old Market near Pub Street, a company we found while roaming around town and the woman told us she would give us a special deal on the large, comfortable, A/C bus - $13 (It was normally $17). In hindsight, we should’ve known it was too good to be true, but we figured the mark-down was due to it being low season. We were told we would be picked up at 5A and were dutifully ready a few min early, so we waited. And waited. Finally as 5:30 rolled around, we roused the hotel staff to use their phone to call the driver (whose number they fortunately gave us). When I called, the man answered and said he would be there in 10 min, but had the name of our hotel wrong, so I tried to correct him. It was unclear whether he understood me and then he hung up. So we waited another 15 min and I called back again. He said he would be there in 5 min and I asked him which hotel he was coming to. This time he got it right, so I hung up feeling a bit better. Our bus was supposed to leave the bus station at 6A and the driver who was to take us to the bus station finally arrived at 5:56. He stayed in the driver’s seat and waved us toward the van door, but I couldn’t get it open. So Randy tried and he couldn’t either. The driver finally left his seat and came around to open the door. It probably took him the better part of a minute to force it open and we finally climbed in. We arrived at our bus and got on and it was immediately apparent that it wasn’t the bus we thought we had booked. The seats were broken down and the A/C was questionable. We tried to protest, but no one (apparently anyway) spoke English, so we resigned ourselves to deal with it for the 7-8 hr trip.

We sat on the bus for a while, finally leaving around 6:30. We quickly realized we were on a local bus, the type that makes frequent stops to pick up and drop off passengers along the way and, although there were only a few passengers when we left Siem Reap, it quickly filled to the point where passengers were sitting on makeshift plastic stools in the aisle. Somewhere around 10 or 11, we stopped so the drivers could eat. At this point a woman from the bus station/eatery we were stopped at came on and asked us if we were heading to Kratie. We confirmed and she directed us off the bus, saying that we were changing buses. It was at this point where the first “casualty” of the trip occurred. I had stuffed my inflatable neck pillow into the bottom of my shoulder strap on my small pack, but as I shifted it to my front so that I could don my large pack on my back, I must have dropped the pillow. I didn’t realize this until we had set our bags down 10m away. As soon as I realized it, I walked back to where I must have dropped it and it was nowhere to be found. Both Randy and I searched the entire area, including the bus we had just gotten off. Nothing. It was gone. And in what seemed like an instant. And on a day when it was apparent that a neck pillow could be a huge asset. We were starting to think it couldn’t get much worse (not so much because of the loss of a material item, but from the sense of violation and loss of security that comes with being cheated and having something stolen right under your nose). But then our next “bus” arrived. It turned out to be an old beat up minivan and we were shoved into the third row, our knees (and especially Randy’s) jammed into the seats in front of us, and still with 4-5 hours to go. It was frustrating to say the least, but it turned out not to be so bad. A couple got on with two chickens in a basket and sat in the row behind us and three of the women in front of us were travelling with infants, one of which had a set of lungs that even Boticelli would envy. At one point, I found myself more than slightly amused as the cacophony of chickens behind me combined with the screaming infant in front of me and Randy was busying himself with ridding the van of a buzzing mosquito. In the end, we made it safely (though with sore knees and bottoms) to Kratie, one of the two bases for my research. We had tried to plan ahead, having learned from our experience with tuk-tuks/accommodation in Siem Reap, and had decided that we would not take a tuk-tuk and would instead wander away from the bus station and orient ourselves before making any decisions. However, one of the tuk-tuk drivers was particularly persuasive, saying he would take us to a hotel where they had rooms from $10, which included the use of a pool, gym, steam room, free Wi-Fi, and free tuk-tuk rides to and from town. He also said there was no obligation and if we didn’t like it he would take us back to the bus station. And he was wearing a shirt with the hotel name, as well as carrying a two-way radio. When we arrived at the hotel, we were impressed. Though a bit far out of town (later we learned it was about a 25 min walk), it was nice. They showed us a room with a balcony overlooking the pool and the Mekong, A/C, and a hot shower, telling us it would be $20/night. Randy and I really liked it and eventually negotiated it down to $14/night, resolving to stay one night and look for somewhere cheaper in the morning. Having settled into our hotel by about 3:30P, we set to making plans for Kratie. We needed to find accommodation for 1-2 months for when we return in March (when I’ll begin the interviews), find a translator, purchase a cell phone, contact the local World Wildlife Fund (WWF) – who run the Irrawaddy dolphin conservation program (they’re often referred to as Mekong dolphins here, but are a subpopulation of the same species found all over SE Asia) – and, of course, explore the area and see the dolphins.

Progress in Kratie was a bit slow at first. Soknay, my contact for the translators, was not responding to my e-mails, nor answering my phone calls (using Skype). So it became apparent that I would need a cell phone in Cambodia for people to reach me on. We attempted to avoid the cost of purchasing a new phone (and annoyance of carrying extra gear) by replacing the SIM card in Randy’s phone. Unfortunately, his phone wasn’t unlocked, so SIM cards from companies other than Verizon couldn’t be used. We spent the better part of a day trying to figure out how to unlock the phone and Randy made several Skype calls to the U.S. In the end, it seemed the only way to get an unlock code was to pay. So we decided we’d just buy a $20 phone. One of the women at the hotel reception – Sokrey - speaks exceptional English and, even though she was off work, she met us in town and helped us negotiate the price for a phone and purchase it. We were to find that she would be amazingly helpful for the duration of our stay.

Randy had also struck up a conversation with one of the owners of the hotel (it’s co-owned by a Cambodian man and an American man) and mentioned that we were looking for a place to stay in March. The owner said he would look around and would also come up with a rate to stay in the hotel. A day or two later, we found ourselves looking at a beautiful, stone and tile-floored, newly built one- bedroom apartment in town. It wasn’t furnished, so we were concerned that it might not be worth it just for a 1-2 month stay. The owner said she would furnish it, but it was unclear what we would be getting. She also didn’t speak any English (the hotel owner translated for us). The cost with/without A/C was $200/$150, but didn’t include utilities ($30-$70/month) or Wi-Fi. Later, the hotel owner showed us several rooms that were much larger than ours (and normally go for $55/night). We chose our favorite and then sat down with the owner to discuss a price. After a bit of negotiating, we got it down to $310/month and agreed to each buy a bicycle from him for $40 a piece and sell them back to him at the end of our stay for $20. $310/month is relatively expensive to stay in Cambodia, but with Wi-Fi, cheap photocopies, use of a pool, gym, steam room (though, honestly, who needs a steam room in Cambodia??), and free tuk-tuk rides to/from town whenever we wanted, $310 for two people is a great deal. In the end though, we were concerned that if we opted for the apartment in town (1) we wouldn’t end up with the furniture and cookware we needed; (2) we would have a tough time communicating with the owners; and (3) we would be isolated. So we chose the hotel and put down a deposit.

We also visited the WWF and met with one of the Project Managers, who was very inviting and happy to see us. He made time for us, even though he was very busy and we hadn’t made an appointment. We sat and chatted with him for a while and he told us about the conservation project (which I was mostly familiar with, other than a few updates) and I told him about my project. Randy also offered to volunteer in the field for them if they needed the extra help. Later we e-mailed him Randy’s CV and he e-mailed back with more info.

Soknay also finally got back to me. The translator he had originally connected me with fell through, but he had found a teacher near Phnom Penh who was interested. In the meantime, I had also discussed my need for a translator with Sokrey, and she offered her services as well. She seemed very excited, as she grew up in a nearby village and was excited at the prospect of doing something that might help the people and environment of her home. She had also been so helpful and seemed so driven and knowledgeable that I really wanted it to work out to have her as my translator. But Soknay (my Cambodian contact) had gone through a lot of trouble to help me find a translator when he didn’t even know me (I randomly contacted a conservation/volunteer program), and I knew the translator he had set up was also very excited and needed the money. So I have tentatively hired Ratha, the teacher, but may find some way to include Sokrey as well. The Project Manager at WWF also has access to several independent translators, so it seems I am set there.

Having completed all this, we finally set out to see the dolphins! Despite the stifling heat, I insisted that we ride bikes to the boat dock 17km out of town. I was also excited at the prospect of getting some exercise and riding a bike through the jungle (albeit on a road). Randy, being less tolerant of the heat, was not quite as enthusiastic. But I eventually convinced him to give it a try (it helped that renting bikes would cost $4 compared to $10-$15 for a tuk-tuk). So we set out for the 1-hr + (one-way) journey. We were just getting to the point where our bums were going numb when we finally arrived in Kampi, launching site for the dolphin tour boats. We parked our bikes in the make-shift covered tuk-tuk and bicycle parking lot, grabbed boat tickets (a very spendy $9/person), and hopped onto a boat. I noticed immediately that our boat driver (many of whom are ex-fisherman – forced into other jobs after a ban on fisheries in the area to protect the dolphins who often get unintentionally trapped in the nets) was less than enthused and barely made eye contact with us and didn’t speak a word to us – not even in response to my friendly “Hello!” I found this interesting and also indicative of great potential for uncovering voices of dissent within the communities most affected by Irrawaddy dolphin conservation policies. We had been on the boat for over 40 min and were beginning to worry that we wouldn’t come across any (although we were still more than happy to be out on a boat in the Mekong), when we finally pulled up to a mini-island of a couple of boulders and trees next to another dolphin-viewing boat. And then we saw them – about 5-6 adults and 2 calves. At only 1.8m (5-6 ft), they appeared much larger than I expected them to. They’re roughly the same size as dusky dolphins – the subjects of my MS in Wildlife and Fisheries Sciences, so I was expecting them to seem as small as duskies. I also found their method of breathing funny. Unlike duskies (and most whales and dolphins), who roll at the surface while taking a breath, Irawaddies sort of awkwardly pop their heads out of the water, take a breath, and then roll – perhaps because they are fighting a swift current, even in the side pools of the great Mekong. Anyway, we really enjoyed seeing them (although my camera was far too slow to get any good pictures as they surfaced sporadically and unpredictably).

After returning to shore, we grabbed some lunch at a restaurant adjacent to the boat dock with a table overlooking the river. While sitting and chatting with three other travelers, Randy spotted a dolphin leaping out of the water. We all thought it might be a large fish at first, but – sure enough – it was a dolphin. So all we had to do was eat lunch on the river, instead of paying an inflated $9/person (only a very small portion of this makes it into the pockets of the boat drivers). The ride back to the hotel was slightly torturous – our bums fully sore by this point. I found that I could only sit in one position that didn’t make me wince. Needless to say, we were glad to get back to the hotel and give our bodies a rest.

Visiting my first research site and securing resources for our return in March was incredibly exciting and I find myself impatient for our return. Even in the short time we were there (4 nights), it was obvious that this project will be loaded with complexities – an organization staffed with well-intentioned, good, and decent people; a government that fails miserably at pretending that conservation is a priority over profit; and a people, disenfranchised and forcefully removed from their legacy and livelihoods (to make it even more complex, I’m sure at least some of these people are glad to have escaped their fate, while others couldn’t be more contemptuous). Selfishly, I’m very excited at the prospect of uncovering these complexities, peeling back the layers, and trying to make some sense of them in a way that may contribute to rethinking how we do conservation and how we ignore the fact that conservation – and environmental problems – are political and, therefore, tied into political economy and the ravenous, insatiable, growing beast that we call capitalism.

On to Cambodia. Again.

sierrayla-1 — Tue, 7 Oct 2014 19:38:00 GMT

It turns out the taxi ride to the Myanmar Embassy was far more of an adventure than the Embassy itself. After flagging down about five taxis, each refusing to use a meter (they wanted to pre-negotiate so they could get a much higher rate), the sixth agreed to take us to the Embassy, but – as we were to find out – he wasn't really sure where it was. We showed him a map and pointed to the Embassy and he gestured for us to get in. Apparently 2:45P is rush hour in Bangkok. We thought we had given ourselves plenty of time, but the ride that had taken us less than 30 min a few days prior had turned into a ride that took over an hour and we were starting to get nervous (visa pickup is only available from 3:30-4:30P). At last, our taxi driver pulled over and said something we couldn’t understand. We soon figured out that he thought we wanted to go to a bus stop several blocks from the Embassy. We were in a rush by this point and we figured out that we were close, so instead of trying to communicate this to the driver (who spoke no English – and we speak no Thai), we decided to get out and walk. We rushed to the Embassy and got in line behind about 40 people. Luckily, someone looked at our receipt and directed us to a counter where there was no line. We handed them our receipt and they handed us our passports with our visas. The whole process took about 30 seconds.

Afterward, we headed back to Khao San Rd area and got snacks and supplies for the border crossing into Cambodia the next day. We were told that a driver would be picking us up at our hotel in the morning, so we were ready to go when a man showed up, took our receipts, and proceeded to guide us back to the place where we had bought our tickets on foot (about 10-12 min walk). We found ourselves wondering why they even bothered with this instead of just telling us to be at the ticket office at a specific time (especially since the man was very impatient as we tried to weave our way through the streets with 40lb of gear on us). After we got to the street stand where we bought our tickets, he left us there, standing around waiting for 20-30 min. He finally came back and waved us toward a minibus coming down the road with two other travelers (apparently there were supposed to be three more, but they were no-shows) and we were on our way. We had braced ourselves for a horrible experience, given my last two excursions through the same border (see here for the one in 2008:http://journals.worldnomads.com/sierrayla-1/story/26490/Cambodia/Corruption-abounds-in-Cambodia#axzz3ErIjV8CQ), so we were still waiting for them to cram 8 more people into our minibus - until we were far enough out of Bangkok that it was apparent we would be the only ones. So we stretched out and settled in for the 5 hr ride. When we got to the Thai side of the border, we grabbed some lunch (Pad Thai – 50B or $1.50) while we waited for the man who was arranging our visas. Unlike previous trips, we had paid the full cost of the visa and the bus ride ahead of time to avoid getting ripped off at the border. And it paid off – and for 100B less than when I crossed in 2008 (although still an inflated cost).

As it turned out though, the day wasn’t completely free of stressful interactions with authorities. As we were exiting Thailand, Randy discovered that his departure card was not in his passport. When you first arrive in Thailand, they give you an arrival and departure card attached to each other. You hand the whole thing to Thai immigration and they stamp both forms, keep the arrival card, and (usually) staple the departure card in your passport. Unfortunately, Randy didn’t discover that his was missing until he was at the passport control counter. They wouldn’t let us go to the same counter, so I was at another counter, and was through the process before we could figure out what was going on. Randy was waved off, though they couldn’t or wouldn’t explain to him what he needed to do and they wouldn’t let me go back with him to another counter because I had already exited Thailand. Instead, they ushered me through a door that led down the stairs and outside. All along the way, there were signs that said "NO STOPPING!" But I didn’t want to leave Randy behind and I didn’t know what was happening since I was now through the door that led down the stairs, so I stood outside the door. Thankfully no one harassed me to move on for the 20 or so minutes that I anxiously waited on the other side of the door. Finally, I got a glimpse of Randy back in line to exit the country and soon he was through. It turns out all he needed to do was fill out a new departure card and that he didn’t need to get it stamped, but no one would explain that to him.

Once through the Thai side, we made our way through to the Cambodian side. The border is sort of a mini-town with lots of duty-free shops and various stands and buildings. It’s much like a large airport, only outside. Before we got to passport control, we passed a “Quarantine” area. We weren’t stopped, but had the feeling we should check it out and were informed by other travelers that we had to fill out a form verifying that we weren’t sick and then we would be given a slip to present at passport control. Apparently the stress from leaving Thailand showed because the man behind the table decided I needed to have my temperature taken with an ear gauge when he wasn’t taking anyone else’s, including Randy’s (I didn’t have a fever). After we got our slips we stood in line for close to an hour on the Cambodian side where they take your finger prints and picture as you enter. We had started the whole border crossing process around 1:30P and it was close to 4P by the time we got through on the Cambodia side. Then we waited for another 40 min or so before we were put on a shuttle to our next bus that would take us to Siem Reap, gateway to the ancient city of Angkor, the center of the Khmer Empire from the 9^th to 15^th centuries.

This next bus was relatively luxurious, with A/C and deeply reclining seats. The ride from the border to Siem Reap was in stark contrast to those I had taken before. Gone were the dusty, pothole filled roads, replaced by a sealed road with only the occasional bump. Gone were the hordes of children that surrounded us at every stop, vying for our tourist dollars by selling postcards and trinkets for a dollar. Gone were the hourly stops to try and get us to spend our money at shops for commission and exhaust us so that we would agree to any bed for any price by the time we arrived at our destination late at night. This bus only stopped once at a secluded restaurant and we were in Siem Reap by 7:30P. We struggled to negotiate a tuk-tuk because there appeared to be one man who was controlling access of tuk-tuk drivers into the bus park, probably at a premium. We knew we could get a ride for less, so we began walking out of the bus park and started making our way down the road. One of the tuk-tuk drivers (Ravi - who was actually very nice) followed us and negotiated with us. We went to the hostel we had planned on staying at, but they were charging more than twice what we had anticipated. Ravi offered to take us to his friend’s hotel, so we agreed. We negotiated the price down from $15 to $11. The hotel was definitely a downgrade from our hotel in Bangkok, but we were tired and only staying two nights.

This is my third trip to Cambodia and each time I have crossed the border, I immediately have this sense that there is a deep history here. It’s something tangible, almost like a scent in the air that makes the hair rise on the back of your neck. Not that the surrounding countries don’t have a deep history, as many of them have seen their share of wars and colonial rule. There’s just something different about Cambodia. Here is a story of a great and vast empire that grew and changed hands several times over the centuries. A great empire that, when it sought to become a utopian one, succeeded only in showing the world how truly terrible violence, under the guise of good intentions, can be (I’ll return to this later).

Anyway, the next morning, Ravi met us at our hotel. Since he had been so nice and helpful the night before, we had hired him for a half-day at the temples. So we spent the day wandering around Angkor Wat (Hindu), the largest religious structure in the world; Bayon (Buddhist), a temple known for its 54 gothic towers decorated with 216 faces; and Ta Prohm (Buddhist), a temple that has been left to the mercy of the jungle which is slowly swallowing it back into the earth. The detail and care of the structure and carvings at these temples speaks of incredible skill and unmatched patience. For example, along the outer wall of Angkor Wat, there is a story sketched out in incredible detail. It is a story that speaks of war and Gods, victory and defeat, horses and dragons, hope and despair. Randy and I spent the better part of an hour “reading” the story, which is to be read by walking counter-clockwise around the building and we barely scratched the surface (which is of course to be expected from a story that played out over centuries).

There are plenty more temples and structures to see in Angkor and one could spend days or even weeks before they’ve seen everything. But looking at the temples is also very exhausting. Visitors are walking long distances, climbing steep stairs, and stepping over and through obstacles along the way. All of this is done in the humid heat and beating sun of the jungle. The majesty and intensity of the temples, in all their detail, would be overwhelming to take in even from the comfort of a couch in an air-conditioned room. So the heat and physical ardor mean that one quickly tires while visiting the temples of Angkor, hence the half-day. So, finishing around 2P, we spent the rest of the day relaxing and making plans for our trip to Kratie the next day – the base for my second research site and topic of my next blog.

So far it’s been interesting to have the perspective of having been a previous traveler to Cambodia, with what scientists might call a mini longitudinal cross-section of observations (where data are collected in one chunk - on one occasion -, but this is done several times over a longer period of time). These are some of the things I’ve noticed: 1) Transportation is much improved. Most roads are in great condition (although many are still full of potholes, such as the one from Kratie to Phnom Penh). Buses also seem to be more comfortable, many with working A/C. However, prices have also been somewhat inflated – but with gas at $4-5/gallon, that’s no surprise. 2) In my opinion, the people here seem much more jaded. My memory of my previous two trips was that just about everyone was open, welcome, and happy to see visitors – and it all appeared genuine. Now it seems very different, where locals ignore you (most don’t even make eye contact) unless they are trying to sell you something and pleasantries, if they appear at all, mostly seem forced. Often, I’ve even felt I perceived mild malice and/or general disdain. This perspective could be owing to my past naiveté about the nature of the poverty and wars here (and the contribution of Western nations and economic systems, such as the US, to worldwide poverty and conflict), which may have blinded me on past trips. Or it could be a reflection of reality, where people all over the world are starting to realize that an economic system that prioritizes profit over people and the planet; individualism, competition, and self-interest over universality, cooperation, and community; and revolves entirely around things that are utterly meaningless and are only given meaning because we assign meaning to them. After all, pieces of paper (or just numbers on a screen these days) wouldn’t be much good if you found yourself stranded in a wilderness or other survival situation (though they might come in handy for making a fire). To be clear, I’m not complaining that people don’t seem happy to have us here. On the contrary. While it certainly makes for a more uncomfortable trip overall, it’s also refreshing (assuming my perception is remotely correct) to see people that are pissed off at the way the world is being run.

And so it begins. Again.

sierrayla-1 — Thu, 25 Sep 2014 00:55:00 GMT

September 24, 2014

Wild Orchid Villa, Bangkok, Thailand

As Randy (my partner and travel companion) embark on a nine-month journey to Southeast Asia to conduct research for my dissertation and to travel for the sake of it, I find myself struggling with a conundrum. Do I keep separate blogs for research ponderings and personal excursions/reflections? Or do I combine the two? Is it “professional” to include personal vignettes in a research blog, even when they’re not related to the research at all? And this is the conclusion I’ve reached:

I believe that the way we separate our personal lives from our “education” is absurd. We are expected (at least in American culture – and perhaps all “Western” cultures) to completely strip ourselves of everything that makes us human in order to engage in one of the most fundamental activities that forms the core of being human – learning. We completely ignore the fact that our way of knowing – our perspectives/world views – are constructed by a complex combination of biology and society and instead treat them as if they are innately “correct” or the only way of knowing and being in the world. Pretending that American/Western education is “objective” by stripping students of their humanity only serves to maintain the status quo of privileging Western forms of knowledge over all others because it allows us to trick ourselves into thinking it is “objective.” Because of this, I have decided NOT to keep separate blogs for research and personal experiences. In my opinion, my life has just as much of an influence on my education as my education has on my life. And so to pretend that it doesn’t feels disingenuous and utterly dishonest, even though I have been conditioned to believe that my personal life has no influence on my education – that it is a one-way process, rather than an intricate dialectic dance. Thus, while it makes me uncomfortable to display my humanity in a “professional” context (simply because of my conditioning and inexperience with doing so), I don’t see any other way to write this blog without compromising a huge part of the learning process that will inform my research and vice versa. Furthermore, when I really think about it, the space between our “professional” lives and our “personal” lives separate is where judgment breeds. And so I begin.

My journey from Eugene to Southeast Asia can best be described as “one of those days” (or, really “two-ish of those days”). You know. The kind where you wish you could go back to bed and push “restart.” Truthfully it wasn’t all that bad, especially when placed in an overall perspective. I had purposely booked a flight that left at a reasonable hour because I knew I would be up late in LMPM (last-minute panic mode). Randy had booked a flight nearly three hours earlier than mine, so we decided that I should sleep in, given the 30 hours of travel ahead and the fact that we would see each other at the end of that (we had booked separate itineraries because I used award miles, while Randy paid cash). But it turns out that LMPM comes with an absolute requirement that you get no more than 5 hours of sleep the night before a big trip such as this. So, although I got everything done and was ready to go out the door the second my ride arrived (Thanks Josh!!), I felt more than a bit zombified, having woken up two hours earlier than I had planned.

Getting to the airport in time was a cinch. The airport in Eugene is a tiny one and it’s usually a pretty smooth departure process. Usually. I knew something was up as soon as I got in line to check in and each of the 3-4 people in front of me were taking 10-15 min to check-in. It turns out the flight was delayed due to weather conditions in SFO. When I checked in they told me there was a small chance I could still make my connecting flight, but booked me for the next available option (24 hours later) just in case. So after that hiccup, I went to go through security, also usually a fairly smooth process despite the fact that I always opt-out (mainly in protest of erosion of civil liberties, plus I really enjoy the free “massage”). Today was different. I went through the usually pat down process where they are required to tell you the whole process by law – even if you’ve been through it tens of times (e.g. “When I pat down ‘sensitive areas’ [i.e. your crotch and breasts], I’ll use the back of my hands [as if that makes it any more comfortable to be touched by strangers in inappropriate places]). My favorite part is “I’ll then pat down each of your legs starting at your feet with one hand on the outside and the other on the inside, working my way up until I meet resistance . . .” Anyway, after they pat you down they wipe their gloves with a strip of paper and put it in a machine that tests for traces of explosives. This had never been an issue with pat downs for me . . . until today. The alarm on the machine went off and the screen blinked in bright red “Explosives Detected.” “What does that mean?” I asked. “That means you get ‘the special treatment,’” said the TSA Agent. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing my flight is delayed.”

The TSA agent and another woman then took me to an area with the same type of machine, only it was in an area off to the side with a curtain enclosing it. They then proceeded to tell me the process: that they would be doing another pat down, but they would now be using the front of their hands for the entire process and that that was the reason for the curtain (again, I’m not really sure who decided that the only inappropriate way of touching “sensitive areas” is with the front of one’s hand). They would also be going through my carry-ons – item by item. I asked what would happen if the machine still tested positive and they told me they weren’t really sure and that they needed to talk to their supervisor. Throughout the whole process, both women were extremely nice and personable, asking me about my trip and my research. They seemed genuinely interested and nonplussed. At one point, one of the women left the curtained area to talk to a man who I assume is the supervisor. I overheard him ask how I was acting and she said I seemed relaxed and not anxious at all. About 20-25 minutes later, and two more positive tests for explosives, they let me go on my way. We discussed whether I was using a new detergent or new shampoo that had a high level of glycerin and decided that it was probably the permethrin (insecticide) that I had impregnated my clothes with as my personal form of Malaria prophylaxis (I’ve had reactions to every single anti-malarial medication available) that had sounded the alarm.

In the end, my flight ended up being delayed just long enough for me to miss my connecting flight. I went to the customer service desk when I arrived in SFO to see if there was any other flight I could get on that day. It turns out there was, but it closed its doors two minutes before I got to the customer service desk. So they booked me on a flight the next day. A little while later, I luckily managed to find out that the second of two flights (on a different airline) they had rerouted me on wouldn’t confirm my reservation because they didn’t have the same fare class available. So it’s likely I would have been stuck in Tokyo. Thankfully two agents at the United Club desk (where I used a free pass to take advantage of the snacks and wifi to book a hotel for the night) were willing to spend about 30 min of their time calling around and helping get me on a rerouting that I could be confirmed on. So, after about three hours at the airport getting all this figured out, I finally went to a hotel – and slept for nearly 11.5 hours.

The next morning all was well and I felt rested (who wouldn’t?), but then a series of unfortunate events began again. It started with the discovery that one of the wheels had broken on the 48 lb suitcase that I – with the invaluable help of colleagues and friends – had filled with donations for Phaung Daw Oo, the Buddhist monastic school we’ll be volunteering at in Burma. As one might imagine, this would make it very difficult to drag the suitcase around multiple Thai city streets while looking for accommodation in the weeks before we arrive in Burma. The wheel was still on the suitcase, but sat in a cockeyed manner that caused it to bend inward every time it hit a bump. So, after some tea and a nice workout, I headed down to the lobby around 11:15 with a healthy appetite to grab some breakfast before the airport shuttle arrived. Unfortunately, it was so late they had put the breakfast away. So I resolved to sit and try to fix the wheel on the suitcase while I waited for the shuttle. I fought with it for quite a while with my mini leatherman tool to no avail. Eventually, my hunger was not easily ignored and I remembered that I had a granola bar, so I pulled it out. I took one bite and then realized that I really needed to pee. The shuttle was due to arrive in three minutes and I knew it could be up to an hour before I’d get the chance to use a bathroom since I had to check my luggage first. So I left my granola bar next to my bag (or so I thought) and went to use the bathroom in the lobby. . . and it was closed for cleaning. I was mildly panicking by this point as my bladder was getting increasingly insistent, so I asked hotel staff if there was another bathroom around. They said no, but that I could go in the one that was being cleaned. So I guiltily went in. And then the TP was one of those new, annoying rolls that, no matter how you try to grab it, you come up with an annoyingly tiny piece of paper. But I was in a hurry. So I shoved my fingers into the roll near the outside and tore a chunk off. When I returned to the lobby, the shuttle was loading up, so I quickly grabbed my bags and hopped on, forgetting about the granola bar. I had sparse other snacks and I was about to get on a 13 hr flight where the only food available was the meals they served and, since I had been rerouted, I couldn’t be sure they’d have vegetarian food for me (which is how I’ve eaten since I was 10 years old). So I knew I needed to ration. At least until I could get more supplies at the airport.

So I was incredibly hungry by the time I went to check in. Although I arrived 2 hrs before my flight and the check-in line was relatively short, it took a while to get to the counter. I finally got there, but when I went through the self check-in system, it wanted to charge me $200 for each of the two bags I needed to check, despite the fact that I had already checked them in in Eugene and paid $100 to check the donation suitcase (my first bag was free). So another chunk of time went by as the agent at the counter helped me sort it out and I was finally on my way to security. After the experience in security the day before, I had begrudgingly resolved to go through the creepy body scanner to avoid any more delays. So I was all ready to go through and had put my carry-ons on the belt and was waiting in line for the scan. There was a woman in front of me and the man she was with was still busy getting his things on the carry-on belt, so when he finished, I gestured for him to go ahead. He entered the scanner and it did its thing and he was done. I took a deep breath and stepped up into the scanner. I was promptly told to step back out as the TSA agent was flagging down another TSA agent, saying simply “Overload.” All I could think was, “here we go again,” but instead of being pulled aside for “special treatment,” I was ushered to the old school metal detector near the scanner along with all of the other passengers behind me. That was the first sign that the day may be taking a better turn. But then by the time I cleared security, my flight was already boarding. And it was full, so I wanted to board ASAP so I would be able to put my backpack in the overhead bin and have leg room for the 13 hr flight. I rushed to grab a quick meal for the flight, but there were long lines at every fresh food stand. So I went to an airport convenience store and grabbed a box of wheat thins and a twix bar (I was so hungry, I was struggling to think straight by this point) and then rushed to the gate and boarded the plane. As I boarded, I explained my meal situation to the flight attendant and, thankfully, she wrote my info down immediately and I ended up getting a spectacular Indian-influenced meal soon after take-off. The rest of the flight was pretty uneventful, albeit a tad bit long.

My layover was 4 hrs in Taipei, so I tried to get on an earlier flight, but that didn’t work out. By this time, it was something like 5 or 6AM at home (and about 5 or 6PM in Taipei) and I had slept for about two hours on the plane, so I laid across three seats and tried to shut out the alarmingly bright fluorescent and neon lights and the sounds of a booming microcosmic consumer culture.

Over 52 hours after leaving my home in Eugene, I finally touched down in Bangkok. The experience of getting out of the airport stood in stark contrast to the one I had had ten years earlier and again six years earlier, when protesters had taken over the airport in the middle of a coup, leaving hundreds of thousands of tourists stranded in Bangkok for several days. Both times, arriving in Bangkok was chaotic to say the least, with long lines for immigration. And as soon as you left customs, you were immediately bombarded by taxi drivers vying for your fare. This time there were no lines and no taxi drivers. Instead I went right through immigration, picked up my bags and walked straight out of customs (which required no forms and no bag scanning) and followed the signs to the taxi stand where there was no line and got a metered taxi to our hotel near Khao San Rd. The taxi driver was very nice and as talkative as his knowledge of English allowed (which was far better than my complete lack of knowledge of Thai). But I was still waiting for the other foot to drop, especially given the weird luck I’d had over the last 52 hours.

We finally arrived at the hotel around 3A Thai time (about 1P Eugene time the day before) and Randy was waiting by the street to greet me. Although the meter read 237 Baht (about $7), the taxi driver wanted to charge me 450. Although this is cheap by American standards (for a 30 min taxi ride), I’m now living on budget of about $25/day. So we argued briefly and I got him to go down to 360 Baht. I would have been more insistent about figuring out the exact amount (there was a 50B airport surcharge and a 25B toll that needed to be considered), but I was just happy to be in Thailand finally and to see Randy.

Randy and I spent the next couple of days settling in, attempting to fix the suitcase wheel with the help of a local (see pic), discovering that I had – in fact – put my granola bar in my backpack, getting over our jetlag, organizing our 3-month “meditation visa” for Burma, and getting vaccinated at the Bangkok Hospital travel clinic. We decided to get vaccines here since it is far cheaper than in the US. I got 5 shots and Randy got 6, so we were feeling a bit like pin cushions as we sat for the mandatory 30 min wait to monitor us for any adverse reactions. We both had sore arms for a day or two where they’d poked us with the Typhoid vaccine, but other than that we were fine. I was able to get vaccinated for Typhoid, Yellow Fever, Japanese Encephalitis, Meningitis, and Rabies, as well as get medications and advice for treating Malaria and traveler’s diarrhea, all for less than $200 (for comparison, a single Japanese Encephalitis shot costs $300 in the US).

Today, we’ll be picking up our meditation visas from the Myanmar Embassy and tomorrow we finally leave Bangkok for the temples of Cambodia before heading to Kratie, where we’ll set up accommodation and translator help for when we return in March to begin research in Cambodia.

The last two times I was in SE Asia (for 7 weeks in 2004 and 6 months in 2008-09), I had a very different perspective on the region, having strictly been a natural scientist and an environmentalist. So I’m very fascinated to see how that perspective has changed as I’ve become an interdisciplinary scholar with a strong focus on sociology and social justice. One of the first implications of that change in perspective was when I was reading through the Lonely Planet guide and it informed women visiting the region that they should avoid sitting near monks or brushing against them. This is certainly one of the things that I will struggle with throughout my stay. I understand that when one is visiting another’s home that they be respectful of that person’s beliefs, but at what cost? Is it fair to ask me, as a woman, to openly accept my oppression because I am a visitor? And, if so, is it only fair because I am privileged enough to be able to afford to leave my home for 9 months to travel abroad? Would it be different if it was all foreigners, instead of only women (in my opinion, it definitely would be)?

Another thing I’m struggling with, and will continue to struggle with, is the disparity of wealth between here and the US. I would be considered (financially) poor in the US, but here I am relatively rich. However, I’m still on a budget that more closely reflects the costs of living in Southeast Asia than in the US. I also struggle with the frustration of my concept of fairness. Is it really fair to jack up the cost of a ride or a thing or a meal up to six times the normal price because of the way I look? Six and ten years ago I would have said “no way.” But now that I understand that the poverty of the people here is a direct result of the exploitation of people and resources by the corporations that provide the people of my country with goods, I’m not so sure . . . It’s something I will certainly be contemplating as we continue our journey.

Finally, I’ll end this long-winded blog with one more thought (assuming anyone is still reading). Randy and I have also been struggling with dealing with “harassment” by tuk-tuk drivers, suit makers, and others hawking their wares. We are conditioned not to be rude by ignoring people, but as soon as we begin to speak to or acknowledge them, many of them follow us and continue to try to sell their goods and services, regardless of whether we’re even remotely interested (we’ve joked about getting Randy a T-shirt that says “No, I don’t want a suit!” in Thai (even though we both feel that should be obvious). Even if we don’t look at some of the hawkers or acknowledge them, many of them continue to hover and speak to us. It’s incredibly uncomfortable because, not only are we not interested, but I find myself imagining what it would be like to eke out a living by trying to sell goods and services to people who ignore you and pretend you don’t exist as you continue to speak to them. It’s a horrible feeling to be constantly harassed by people vying for your money, but I feel I have no concept of how it would feel to be on the other end – to hope that people will simply acknowledge you so that you may be able to sell them this or that trinket or service so that you may survive. And so it then feels very selfish to feel uncomfortable.

The End . . . for now

sierrayla-1 — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 04:59:00 GMT

The bus to Rivas, where I was to catch the connection to Granada, was supposed to leave at 11A. And I was told it was the only bus that day because it was Good Friday so I was on the bus by 10:45. It finally left at around 12:00 when it was packed full. In Rivas, the only buses running that day were headed for Managua, so I was told to get off at the junction for Granada and take a taxi from there – it should be a 5 min. ride. So I got on the bus for Managua and the money collector charged me the same amount everyone else was paying to go all the way to Managua – another hour plus past the junction. But it was still only $3, better than the $50 I’d have to pay for a taxi.

The bus dropped me at the junction where the tuk tuk drivers tried to charge me $10 for what is normally a $2 ride. I eventually got one of them down to $3. But along the way we were stopped by a police officer who was conducting passport checks. I had put the majority of my money (7000 Cordobas or $333) inside my passport in my pocket and when I went to pull my passport out the whole wad of it fell on the ground next to the tuk tuk. The driver and I watched as the police officer picked it all up and passed it back to me. I was glad to get it all back, but a little embarrassed that I had spent so much effort getting the tuk tuk driver’s price down when I obviously had more than enough to pay more. But that amount was to last me most of the rest of my trip and I think he understood that.

My shuttle to the airport to fly to the Corn Islands was at 4A the next morning, so I spent a quiet and early night in Granada. This was an easy thing to do given the town was eerily silent. It would appear that all of the people flooding the streets in San Juan del Sur had come from Granada. The only place where there were any people was in our hostel.

My room that night was hot and noisy, so I didn’t get much sleep and woke up on my own two minutes after my alarm was supposed to go off. Not really sure what happened there . . . Anyway, after a shuttle, a plane, a taxi, and a water taxi, I finally arrived on Little Corn Island. I was greeted by Jeff, an Instructor from the dive shop I’d met through the dive shop on Roatan and had been in touch with since. He had organized a room for me since it was still Semana Santa and I wanted to insure I had a place to stay. He introduced me to the hotel manager, Dustin from Texas, who took me to the hotel and showed me my room. It had two double beds, TV, A/C, and a private bath (though no hot water) for $20/night. He explained that the whole island (pop. 500) runs on a generator that’s shut down from 5A – 2P, so there was no electricity when I first arrived. There was a small puddle on my floor, but I assumed that was left from the cleaning and ignored it at the time. I went to find some lunch and when I returned my entire floor was flooded. I went looking for Dustin, but couldn’t find him anywhere. His uncle lives and works there too, but I didn’t know that at the time.

My plan had been to nap and take advantage of the A/C when the power came on in ½ hr. So I lay down for a bit, then went looking for Dustin again, and continued this cycle until about two hours later when another guest told me I could speak to his uncle. So they fixed the leak and mopped the floor, during which time I discovered my TV didn’t work (now that the power was on). It turned out to be the outlet so they ran an extension cord from another outlet and got it to work. So I watched a bit of TV for the first time in a long time and took a nap. When I woke up I was really warm. It appeared my A/C was not working. I adjusted some knobs and went for a sunset drink before returning to what now felt like a sauna. I found Dustin who adjusted it, but ½ hr. later it was still a sauna, so he switched out the A/C unit and told me he wasn’t going to charge me for that night. He was super nice about it all. I understand things can go wrong with hotel rooms, especially on tiny islands with as few resources as this one. I don’t judge my experience on those problems, but on the way they are handled by the management. And Dustin gets an A+ in my book.

The next morning I went for my first dive off Little Corn Island . . . and saw three hammerheads. The visibility was piss poor, but I was able to make them out and get a couple of bad pictures. I went on another dive later that morning and saw spotted eagle rays and the visibility was much better. That afternoon, I returned to my room to find a small puddle on the floor again. I told Dustin and he had me switch rooms since he had had another one open up that morning. I napped in the hottest part of the day, then went for a long walk around the island before grabbing dinner and calling it an early night.

The next day I went with the dive shop to Blowing Rock, the best dive site in the area and, according to many, in the Caribbean. As is the case with every other best dive site in the world it seems, Blowing Rock was a long boat ride away. And it was a bit of a stormy day, so the ride was a bit rough. It was to be a two-tank dive (so two dives in a row). The first dive was awesome, and I would put it in the top two best dive sites in the Caribbean. We saw sting rays, nurse sharks, and lots of fish and healthy coral. But I was in a group of 8 people led by one Dive Master so it was a bit crowded. And as with any group, your dive time is limited to the time it takes for the first person to run low on air, which tends to be the beginners as they suck down air while they fight to remain neutrally buoyant. So our DM called the dive at just past 30 min. I had 2000 psi left (2/3 tank) and could’ve easily stayed down for another 25 min. Blowing Rock is also a very expensive dive at $95. So I was a little annoyed and had half the mind to ignore the DM and continue on the dive (but I didn’t of course).

When we got back on the boat it was pouring rain and the waves were rough. We got everyone settled and were moving to a calmer spot when the boat came down on a wave hard and one of the women injured her back. She was in quite a lot of pain and it was an ordeal getting her in as comfortable a position as possible where it was least bumpy. We diverted to Big Corn Island and went very slowly. When we arrived close to an hour later, there was a scramble to find a stretcher, which wasn’t available. So the DM’s and islanders used a hammock to pull her out of the boat and put her in the back of a truck to take her to the hospital. She was screaming in pain with each quick movement. Afterward, we returned to Little Corn Island and were greeted on the beach by all the dive shop staff who told us to head straight inside and grab some coffee or tea and they’d unload everything from the boat. As we sipped our tea and warmed up, they informed us all that there would be no charge for the dive that day. That made us all very happy since it was still an excellent dive, traumatizing or not. The latest update I got on the woman was that she was being med-evac’d to the mainland for x-rays and that she likely had a slipped disk, but was able to move everything.

We were supposed to go on a night dive that night, but it was cancelled due to the incident because they needed the dive boat to shuttle people and belongings back and forth to Big Corn Island. It was still stormy out, so I headed out for a late lunch and a few drinks, which continued until 10P when I went to bed to insure I got enough rest for diving the next day.

On Tues morning, I went on two dives, both good, but because the storm was still around, both a bit cold. After lunch, I was heading back to my room to get a short nap in before the night dive when I slipped on the walkway to our hotel (which apparently is very slippery when wet) and took a huge chunk of skin off the top side of my little finger. It looked pretty nasty, but didn’t hurt too badly. I was more worried about how I’d make the night dive with the salt water stinging it the whole time. When it got closer to dive time, I searched through my first aid kit and found some latex gloves. So I cut one of the fingers off it and fashioned a waterproof bandage out of it with some tape. It leaked a bit on the dive, but I never felt it. The dive was awesome. It was just me, Jeff and one of his students, new to night diving. We saw a ton of lobsters, sleeping fish, and a turtle. When we turned our flashlights off, it was surreal. The reef and water surrounding it turned into millions of tiny points of bioluminescent lights. It was like being in the sky on a moonless night. I could’ve stayed down there in the dark until the sun came up, just taking it all in. But of course air would’ve been a bit of an issue, so we returned to the boat and the island.

It was my last night out in Central America that night and I wanted it to be special. I was supposed to meet two friends from Utila for dinner as they had arrived on the island that day, but they stood me up so I ate alone and then headed to the only bar still open on the island. There were only a few people there, but I made a night out of it and then returned to my hotel where there were still people awake, so I stayed up until all was quiet and then made my way to bed.

The next day I had a late breakfast where I ran into the friends I was supposed to meet for dinner the night before. They apologized and joined me and then we all headed to the beach where I refreshed my tan before heading back to the hotel to pack so I could catch my water taxi, taxi, plane, and shuttle back to Granada.

I made it to Granada without a hitch and got a nice expensive hotel room to spend my last two nights in. I spent that night and the next day shopping for gifts and reflecting on the last three months of my life. I arrived back in Texas on April 9^th and was welcomed home by my much-missed friends that night.

Travelling is always and adventure and never a disappointment, which I guess is why it’s so addicting. It can be terrifying, lonely, bewildering, amazing, eye-opening, educational, and painful at times (especially on those 2+ bus rides). But one thing it never is is boring. And, unfortunately I can’t say that about life at “home.” And travelling in developing countries always puts things back into perspective, whether I’ve lost my way or not. I always return with an overwhelming sense of inner peace, which is why I’ll never give it up.

I hope you are all happy and well.

Here’s the photo link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2939805&id=8369089&l=46734e65be

Until next time,

Sierra

Volcano Boarding, Water Sports, and Semana Santa

sierrayla-1 — Thu, 8 Apr 2010 14:19:00 GMT

Buenas Dias,

I write from 9,500 ft above Nicaragua where I am in what must be the world’s smallest commercial plane with a maximum of 12 passengers. The plane is nearly full today with 10 passengers. When I last left you I was in beautiful Roatan. I spent what I thought was my last day there in gorgeous, resorty West Bay where white sand beaches are abundant. It was a lovely day of walking, snorkeling, and relaxing. I attempted to catch the ferry back the next morning at 5:45A, but a storm had come in overnight. Before getting into a taxi I had to bargain the price down from $20 one way to $10 one way. Then I asked one of the drivers if the ferry was running and he said it was, so I hopped in. But after a 25 min. drive we discovered that the ferry wasn’t running and probably wouldn’t be until the next day. So we went all the way back. I was a bit annoyed with the other taxi driver for telling me the ferry was running when it wasn’t. Surely all the taxi drivers on the island communicate with each other. It’s not a very big island and there are hundreds of taxis. Anyway, I normally would’ve argued upon return, but it wasn’t my taxi driver who told me the ferry was running. The guy who told me that had subsequently put me in his friend’s taxi as his was already full. So I wasted $20 that day. I heard similar stories from others who had also tried for the ferry that morning and who had taken taxis to other destinations. Roatan is awesome, but it seems the taxi drivers are experts at ripping you off, which is a shame because I honestly think that if it gets any worse people might be dissuaded from going and opt for other islands. So the taxi drivers are ruining it for everyone else in the tourism industry on the island.

When I got back to West End where I’d been staying, I decided to wait and see if the afternoon ferry would go before I got a hotel for the night. I was to meet a friend in La Ceiba, where the ferry disembarks on the mainland. He was still in Utila, also stuck due to weather, and we were trying to coordinate our arrival times so we could head to Nicaragua together. So I sat at my dive shop all morning catching up on e-mails and photos. Later, when I learned there would be no afternoon ferry, I got a room at a different hotel. My room at the other hotel is difficult to describe. You’ll have to look at the pics to see what I mean. I think it was a kind of rooftop terrace transformed into a room. Someone had put up thick plastic sheets all around it. The bathroom was probably the best part though. It was separated from the main entrance by an old large refrigerator. My sink was a PVC pipe that emptied onto a concave plastic sheet that was tilted so that it emptied into the back of the toilet. Although lovely in its bizarreness, the room had a tin roof with a very close palm tree and, with the winds the night before, I felt a bit like I was in a war zone with all the raucous. My new hotel room was much quieter. So I napped for a bit and then went back to the dive shop to spend one last night with my new friends.

Thankfully, the ferry was running the next morning and I was in La Ceiba by 8:30A. Luke’s ferry was also running, so we met and grabbed a taxi to the bus station. Before getting in, we agreed on a price of 30 Lempiras ($1.50) per person with the man at the taxi queue. Apparently though, our taxi driver wasn’t made privy to this information and demanded nearly twice that. There followed a bit of chaos and a threat by the taxi driver’s friend to call the police. We ended up paying about 43 Lempiras each in the end. Then we hopped the bus for San Pedro Sula where we caught another bus to Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras. We had really hoped not to get stuck there for the night, but we had no choice. When we arrived we got confused by the numbers on the map in our travel guide and thought we were several blocks away from our hotel. It was dark and we didn’t feel safe walking, so we got a taxi. He told us it was very far and charged us 50 Lempiras ($2.50) to take us there. But that hotel was full, so we had to find another. As we turned the corner not more than 20 m (60 ft) down the road, we came across the same bus station we had just paid 50 L to leave! Very annoying.

In the end, we found a hotel room, but there was nowhere to get on the internet and find out when the bus for Nicaragua left. We asked around and were told 4:00A, 5:00A, and 6:30A by various people. I had read somewhere that the buses might leave at 5A, so we decided to go to the bus station at 4:30 the next morning. By that point we both really needed showers and sleep. Luke showered first and gave me the bad news that the hot water tap was just for show, the water came out as a trickle and the toilet didn’t flush. I really needed a shower after a long hot day on public transportation, so I went for one anyway . . . and ran out of water halfway through. Luckily, I had already rinsed the shampoo out of my hair, but I had just soaped up my face and now it was getting in my eyes. I tried the tap on the sink with my fingers crossed. It had just enough water in the pipe for me to rinse most of the soap off my face. So I didn’t get to finish the shower, but I felt cleaner anyway.

The next morning we were at the bus station by 4:45A. It didn’t open until 5A and our bus wasn’t until 9:30A. We’d already woken up the guy at the hotel to let us out, but I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about waking him again to let us back in. After all, he was the one who told us the bus was at 5A and charged way too much for a room with no running water. So we slept some more and then caught the bus to Leόn, a cute colonial town in Nicaragua. We had heard about a hostel with a pool called Bigfoot and Nicaraguan heat is sweltering, so we tried for a room there, but they were full. So we ended up in a hostel across the street. Our room was dark and hot, but it was actually really nice. Later, we went for drinks at Bigfoot and checked out the “pool.” It was more like a puddle. You couldn’t fit more than one big foot in it. We were glad for our nice, spacious room across the street.

The next morning we booked a tour for the next day. We looked at a couple of tour agencies. One of them had a full day tour for $50 that included a hike up Cerro Negro (an active volcano), volcano boarding, and swimming at Laguna Asososco. The other places wanted $30 to do just one of these activities. So we went back to them and asked to make sure everything was included. This whole time we were attempting to speak in Spanish and they were giggling at our attempts. But we were able to confirm that the $50 included lunch, a guide, the board, and all entrance fees, but not breakfast. So we decided to book it and they all got really excited (there were 3 girls and a guy, all very young – maybe late teens). As we were paying, they switched to English (we had assumed they didn’t speak English and were struggling to speak Spanish the whole time). Then they asked if we wanted to board down the volcano because it was optional. We said yes and they said it was an extra “dollar or so.” We reminded them that they had just told us it was all included, so they said, “oh yeah. Ok. Don’t worry about it then.” When they asked where we were staying we told them it was right next door. They got all excited again because they could pick us up at our hotel. Otherwise they’d pick us up at the tour agency. What’s the difference you ask? There wasn’t one. Silly.

After booking the tour, we headed for the beaches of Las Peñitas, a 45 min. chicken bus ride from Leόn. We spent the day swimming and relaxing there and then returned to Leόn, where we bought breakfast for the next morning and had an early night. We walked out our door at 6A in the morning and there was our van, parked in front of the tour agency. We got in and were immediately told that we needed to pay an extra $5 entrance fee. Luke was about to pay it, but I told them that we were told it was all included (again). So the guide (and we think the owner of the company), who was a British expat with an Australian accent, told us not to worry about it if that’s what we were told. On the way there she told us the plan for the morning. First we would have a light breakfast (?) and then hike the volcano before heading to the lake for a swim. On our way up the volcano, our guide mentioned that we’d be running down the volcano, so I asked when we were doing the boarding. She had no idea what I was talking about, but when I explained that we were also told that was included, she apologized and called the people at the agency and had them bring the boards out. And as an added bonus since we were already a third through the hike, we didn’t have to carry the boards up. But when we got to the top I had second thoughts about the boarding. The way down was steep and covered in (very) sharp volcanic rocks. Even though volcano boarding is a popular activity here, it was hard to imagine so many people had done it without getting mortally wounded. So I let someone else go first and when she survived it I decided it might be okay. It was great! My heart was pumping the whole time, but it was a new thrill I’d never experienced. I’d recommend it if you’re good at following directions. Otherwise you’re bound to lose some skin at the very least.

After volcano boarding we went to the beautiful Laguna Asososco and had a refreshing swim followed by a picnic lunch. We thought we were done for the day after that, but apparently the folks at the travel agency forgot to tell us that our package also included a tour of Leόn Viejo (Old Leόn) and a trip to La Paz to get quesillos. It’s a popular Nica dish that’s a sort of cheese and cream wrap. The place where we got it was the shop from which it originated. Leόn Viejo was interesting, not unlike some of the Mayan ruins I’d seen. But I was so exhausted by that point and the heat was so oppressive that I missed a lot of what our guide said.

We got back to Leόn in the evening and had dinner and drinks at our hotel and then went to Bigfoot for a few more drinks. And the next morning we left for Granada. Just as we were leaving our hotel we ran into a couple who told us to be careful heading to Granada. They had just come from there and had met a very nice local lady on the bus to Managua (where you have to transfer to get to Leόn). She explained to them that there was an easier and cheaper way to get to Leόn and they had followed her off the bus early and into a taxi where they were joined by a couple of other Nicaraguans (this is not unusual as most taxis in Nicaragua function as “collectivos,” and pick up and drop off people all along the route). When the taxi was far enough from the bus stop, the people in the taxi robbed the couple. We didn’t have time to hear more of the story, but we were certainly more careful after that. We had a fairly uneventful ride to Managua and then another to Granada, though the second bus was packed so tightly people were hanging out the windows for air. We had heard of another hostel with a swimming pool in Granada called Oasis and we found it almost immediately when we arrived. We got a room and headed for the pool soon after. This pool, although not more than 3m x 2m (15ft x 10ft) was cool and refreshing.

Afterward we wandered around Granada for a bit until we were exhausted from the heat. At the hostel you could sign up for a day trip to Laguna Apoyo, a beautiful large natural lake 20 min. from Granada for $17 for the day including lunch. So we signed up for the next day and had a few drinks in the pool before heading to bed. The lake the next day was awesome. We kayaked and I went for a much-needed long swim and then we relaxed on the beach and floating dock.

My time in Central America was running short and I really wanted to spend a few days in the Corn Islands, a fabulous paradise on the Caribbean side of Nicaragua, famed for its fantastic diving. Unfortunately, they’re a 1-2 full day journey by land and sea from Granada, so I decided to fly for $165 roundtrip. So the day after the lake, I had planned to book a trip for Easter weekend and then spend another night or two in Granada before flying to the Corn Islands, then return to the mainland to hit up San Juan del Sur, a surf Mecca on the Pacific coast. However, the only flights available were several days later, so I booked my flight and we left within a few hours for San Juan del Sur. So my plan was reversed and I’d go to San Juan del Sur and then head to Corn Islands before returning to the mainland two days before my flight home.

We found a nice hotel in San Juan del Sur and got the last room with a sea view for $7 per person per night. However, the woman who worked there told us the price would be going up the next day for the duration of Semana Santa (week of Christ), which is celebrated hugely throughout Central America. So we asked how much more. The woman then tried to explain the price increase by way of analogy in Spanish. She said that it would be like a big backpack, packed more so that it was slightly taller. When we were understandably confused, she blamed our Spanish, saying “No entienden Espanol?” (“Don’t you understand Spanish?”) We thought it was kind of funny that she thought our confusion spawned from a lack of understanding of Spanish. In the end, she left it at “un poco mas” (“a little more”). So we said in Spanish, “so like 2 dollars more or seven?” to which she replied “mas o minus” (“more or less”). Anyway, we took the room for the night and decided we might look around the next day for a cheaper place with a saner owner.

The next day, I really wanted to surf and Luke decided he’d like to watch a football (soccer) game and wait for his two friends from home, set to arrive that day. There isn’t any surf in San Juan del Sur proper, so I rented a board and caught a shuttle to Playa Madera, a nearby beach. I spent the day surfing, sunning, and reading before heading back to San Juan del Sur where Luke informed me that his friends wouldn’t be arriving until the next afternoon. So the next morning we had an amazing 2 ½ hour horseback ride in the mountains where we saw howler monkeys, the national bird, and a possum (we think).

Later that afternoon Luke’s friends arrived and there was a reunion of sorts. Steve (or Macca) and Ruth turned out to be lovely and we all enjoyed each others’ company. We watched the sunset on the beach with a few drinks and dinner before heading back to our hotel. We were bringing drinks up to our room when we were stopped by “crazy lady,” as we came to call her, who told us we had to drink downstairs (and not on our balcony with a view of the craziness on the streets that is Semana Santa). We acquiesced until we saw other people coming back and carrying bags upon bags of liquor to their rooms and then we proceeded upstairs where we watched the seas of people pass below our balcony. Semana Santa is hard to describe. Basically, for you Americans, imagine a 4^th of July without fireworks and with more alcohol, coupled with priests prancing down the streets preaching with their clutch of followers in tow. Now imagine that going on for FIVE days, 24 hours a day, and you have Semana Santa, the most bizarre celebration I think I’ve ever encountered.

The next day, in order to escape the madness that was growing as Easter Sunday fast approached (it was now Thursday), we headed to another nearby beach, Playa Romancia, with some surf boards and spent the day there surfing, swimming and enjoying the nearly empty beach.

That night was my last night, but we were all so exhausted from the night before that all we could do after dinner was have one drink and we were all in bed by 9:30. I left for Corn Islands (where I am now) the next day, but I’ll save my last week for the next post, which I’m sure you’re all thankful for if you’ve gotten this far.

Much love to you all. Here are the links for the photos:

Honduras:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2927416&id=8369089&l=2c94511353 AND

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2935860&id=8369089&l=495f7bab2a

Nicaragua:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2939805&id=8369089&l=46734e65be

hiking and diving galore

sierrayla-1 — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 11:44:00 GMT

Greetings all,

The lake house near Alpeneca was very rustic, but lovely. It’s actually in a town called Laguna Verde, named after the green lake there. There were two houses – one a standard house with a kitchen and the other an igloo (though not made of ice – it was more like the house from “The Gnome”). I stayed in the igloo and had a little Gnome window looking out to my gnome garden. There were six of us in all there and we explored the town and lake together. The town was tiny and there was no grocery store, but a couple of makeshift shops with nothing but fruits and veggies, so we improvised for dinner and the Irish girls we were with made a very nice stew and fried potatoes.

The next day, I set out on my own for Suchitoto, which should have been just a few hours by bus, but I ended up having to circumvent a large part of the route because there were no buses that way, so it took me 8 hours on 1 collectivo and 5 buses. Once I got there I searched for ½ an hour for a hostel recommended by a few of the six people from the night before, called “Lago Vista (or “Lake View”) Hostel.” I finally found it after asking four different people, three of which really had no clue where it was (or maybe it was my Spanish). I finally found it and it wasn’t exactly what I’d been hoping for. It did indeed have a beautiful view of the lake, but the rooms were dark and dirty and shared a common ceiling so that the effect was that it was acoustically a dorm, though not so much visually (except for the shared light in the middle of the ceiling). The bathroom was down some stairs and across the yard. But it was only $7 for the room and it was sheer exhaustion that made the decision for me in the end and I decided to spend one night and find another place for the next.

The area of Suchitoto was one of the hardest hit by the civil war in El Salvador, so there is a lot of history there. I ended up taking a 3 hr. horseback ride in the peaks of Guazapa volcano. My guide didn’t feel like riding, so he was on foot . . . and my horse had a hard time keeping up with him. It was a fun and beautiful journey and the time flew by very quickly. He took me up into the hills of Guazapa and showed me the hospital and school used by the locals during the war. It was all very interesting and also all in Spanish, so it was very good practice, but limited the amount I could learn and the questions I could ask.

Before leaving for the ride, I had moved to a new and very comfortable hotel, so that’s where I returned after the ride. In the morning I started making my way toward Honduras with a stop in La Palma for one night. La Palma is close to the border and is a very artsy mountain town. You can climb the highest peak in El Salvador near there, but it requires taking the public bus up most of the way (and relying on it to come for you when you’re done) and, for me, it would have meant going alone as I hadn’t seen other travelers since I left Alpeneca. So I decided to forgo the climb and caught up on my journal instead.

The next day I was off to Honduras, to a mountain town called Gracias. I met a Canadian couple on the bus and we looked for a hotel together. They decided on the first one we found, but the room would have been $17 for me, so I decided to look for cheaper diggs and found a decent one for $5. Then the 3 of us went to book a hike for the next day. The hike was 8 hours and 5 of those were up, with 4 of those being straight up. It was a bit challenging, but just what I needed. As we hiked, the forest changed from Pine forest to a sort of temperate rainforest. It was strange, but very cool. When we got back to our guide’s house, we were thoroughly exhausted and ready to go home for a shower. But our truck wasn’t there to pick us up, so our guide ended up calling a tuk tuk. We made it almost 15 min. into the 20 min. ride without the engine turned on. And the tuk tuk driver took a phone call while maneuvering down the rocky dirt road. Only while traveling in developing countries . . .

When we got back to town, I rushed to my hotel to shower before it got dark (and therefore cold) because I only had cold water in my shower. However, it turns out I was wrong. I in fact had no water at all. So I got dressed again and ran to the front desk to find out what was going on. The woman there could only respond “mas tarde” ( “much later”). I tried my best to explain in Spanish that I needed a shower ASAP because I was filthy and rapidly getting cold as was the air and the cold water at this particular hotel was not room temp., it was ice temp. She didn’t seem to have any sympathy for me whatsoever and simply shrugged her shoulders. I really wanted a shower so I had to improvise. There was a pitcher full of “drinking water” in my room and the back of the toilet (the clean part) was still full. So I had enough for a bucket shower. However, as I was preparing for said shower, I placed the pitcher in a funny position and it fell, spilling water all over the floor. But on my way back and forth to my room, I remembered there was a sort of sink/tub that was always full of clean water. So I filled the pitcher up there and returned for a full, albeit a bit cold, bucket shower. The important thing is that I emerged from that “shower” clean, refreshed, and before dark. Afterward, I met up with the couple again for dinner and some celebratory drinks (for the hike, not the shower).

The next day, we headed in our separate ways, they to El Salvador and I to Copan Ruinas, where there are some Mayan ruins I wanted to see. We took the same bus west and then they headed south while I went north, but not before I helped them find the right bus and time and how to pay for it. Yes, my Spanish has actually become good enough that other tourists want my help.

Copan is another charming little town and I found my room there quite comfortable for $8/night. I tried to get on a tour as they do several tubing, hiking, horseback riding, coffee plantation, etc. tours, but no one else had booked anything and I didn’t want to go alone. Anyway, I was still getting over a clingy cold. So I decided to watch a movie on the rooftop of a hotel which proved to be a poor decision as it was freezing cold up there. So the next day I slept in and then walked to the Mayan ruins and explored them on my own. They were very interesting, more impressive than Quirigua, but not quite as impressive as Tikal. I decided not to pay an extra $25 for a Spanish-speaking guide and simply read the few signs posted. I learned that Copan is home to one of the longest Mayan passages, engraved in the “Hieroglyphic Staircase” and that they uncovered what they originally thought was a graveyard. But after learning more about the Mayans, they came to the conclusion that it was the neighborhood of nobles and that they bury their dead next to their homes.

That evening, there were still no tours scheduled for the next day, so I decided to hop on a bus and head for Utila the next morning, an island just offshore famous for cheap, but good diving. A Brazilian guy I met in Copan was on the same bus and we made our way to the island together, picking up an Argentinean guy along the way. We got to Utila a little after 5P and spent over two hours talking to different dive shops to figure out who we wanted to dive/stay with (each dive shop comes with a hotel package). In the end, they decided to dive with Captain Morgan’s Dive shop. Their hotel is actually on a smaller island, called Jewel Cay and is a 20 min. boat ride from Utila proper. I was taking a couple days off diving to recover from a cold, so I had a few days to make a decision. The next day they were off to dive with Captain Morgan’s and move to Jewel Cay for the night. I had a couple of friends in Utila, so I decided to stay and continue the search. In the end I settled on Captain Morgan’s as a dive shop, but decided to stay on Jewel Cay one night and then at an independent hotel on Utila proper for the rest of the time. I got a nice, breezy, light private room on the water with 2 large beds, a fridge, and hot water for $18/night (which is actually expensive by Utila standards).

I spent the next two days diving in the mornings and spending my afternoons on Jewel Cay while waiting for the boat to return to Utila. Then I took a day off so I could stay out late to see off one of my friends that I’d originally met in El Salvador and reconnected with in Utila. It was the first night I really got the opportunity to dance. I was having such a great time dancing that I forgot to zip up my purse and lost everything except my wallet. The only truly tragic loss though was my mosquito repellent. I had bought it in Thailand and it smelled great, felt good on my skin, and worked brilliantly.

After a night of partying, I spent a lazy day watching movies and running errands. Then over the next couple of days I went on 6 more dives, for a total of 10. After I completed my dives I took a day to hike around the island with a friend I’d met 6 years prior in Australia. We just happened to be in Central America at the same time and were able to meet up with very little effort. We were trying to find the path up Pumpkin Hill, but weren’t having much luck, so we ended up scaling it on a path that was very steep (there were ropes to help pull yourself up) and looked like it hadn’t been used in 10 years. Afterward, we searched for the freshwater caves and eventually found them. The whole venture took us 5 hours and it poured buckets for more than half that time. We were soaked. So we went off for naps to recuperate for the St. Paddy’s Day celebrations that night. We did a bit of barhopping that night which included a bar that was holding the “Beer Olympics.” It was a competition of teams of 6 in activities such as a mini-triathlon, mud wrestling and beer pong. It was entertaining, but not as much as I’d hoped.

The next day was another lazy day. The only thing I attempted to do was see the local doctor about my ear injury from nearly a year ago now in Sipidan, Borneo. I was diving with a cold and had trouble clearing my ears. But three dives cost me $220 and there was a wait list (so you had to book it several days ahead of time) because it’s a tightly controlled marine park, so I overdid it and tried too hard to equalize, apparently blowing too hard. I immediately got vertigo – not a fun thing underwater – and discovered upon surfacing that I was nearly deaf in one ear and it was ringing. It took me a few hours to regain my balance and I ended up having to snorkel for the other two dives. I saw 2 docs in SE Asia and neither could tell me anything. By the time I got to the Philippines, I’d recovered most of my hearing except for some, but my ear was still ringing constantly. So I decided to see if diving again would make any difference. It didn’t make it any better, but it didn’t make it any worse. So I saw a doc in the US for $370 when I got home and all they could tell me was that I had minor hearing loss and they wanted to run a lot of very expensive tests that may or may not be covered by my DAN (diving) insurance. It took my insurance company 6 months to pay me back. By that time, there wasn’t really any point in continuing the testing. But I’d heard good things about Dr. John in Utila. He specializes in diving injuries and is very knowledgeable, if not a little crazy. Unfortunately, I got to his office too late that day and they couldn’t fit me in. I had been planning on leaving the next day for Roatan, so decided to try and see him the next day in the morning and catch the 2P ferry back to the mainland where I could catch another ferry to Roatan.

I arrived at the doc’s office at 10A and was the first patient in line (they open at 10:30). I was told I’d be seen first when the doc arrived at 11:30, but 3 other people (apparently emergencies) were seen before me and I finally got put in a room at 1:40P. It was a very rushed visit in which I paid $20 for the doc to tell me what I pretty much already knew from searches on the internet. I’d probably sustained inner ear barotrauma. But he told me something I wasn’t sure of from my research – the hearing loss would never resolve and my ear will never stop ringing. Kind of a bummer. But at least I can still dive.

Anyway, I barely made my ferry, but arrived in Roatan late last night and was able to get in on two dives today. We saw a turtle and a spotted eagle ray. Roatan is also much nicer than Utila. It reminds me of some of the nicer beaches in SE Asia that I’ve missed. But I have 3 weeks left as of yesterday, so I’ll leave here the day after tomorrow for Nicaragua.

Much love to you all and I hope you’re doing well.

Here’s the link to the photos:

El Salvador:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2920484&id=8369089&l=bf948f0012

Honduras:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2927416&id=8369089&l=2c94511353

Beaches and Waterfalls

sierrayla-1 — Mon, 1 Mar 2010 11:23:00 GMT

Greetings!

El Zonte was awesome. I made friends within five minutes of arriving and we spent most of our time there together. Our hotel had a shaded rooftop terrace with hammocks and a great view of the Pacific. There was also a pool complete with a bar/restaurant and hammocks. It was a great place to relax and enjoy the company of other like-minded people, but there was not much to do there otherwise. It’s usually a great spot for surfing, but it’s not the season right now and the waves break heavily and close to shore, so I decided not to surf there. Instead, I swam often, went for walks/runs on the beach, and enjoyed our pool with friends. On one of the days, we went on a mission to La Libertad, the largest city nearby with a large grocery store, ATMs, and a post office (supposedly). I needed to send some stuff home to get rid of some weight in my pack, but we couldn’t find a post office. Before we left, I grabbed a plate of beans, rice, and tortillas for $0.70 from a local restaurant.

After 3 nights, I was content with my laziness and was ready to go back to doing stuff. So I moved to El Tunco with Dusty, one of the members of our makeshift social group, where we met two of his friends from home and stayed there for 3 nights (though I had only intended to stay for one). El Tunco’s surf was a little better and kinder than El Zonte’s, so I took a board out one day. The rest of our time was spent going back and forth from the pool to the beach. We also went on another mission to La Libertad and I found the post office this time and got another great meal for $0.60 this time.

So after 6 nights of being semi-lazy on the beach, I really needed to go do and see stuff. So yesterday I hopped the local bus, transferring once, to get to Juayua (pronounced “why-you-a”, a town along la Ruta de las Flores (“The Route of Flowers”). La Ruta is a string of charming mountain towns where colorful wildflowers bloom from October to February. The area offers some great hiking and the highest town in El Salvador (Apeneca). Today I went on a hike that included seven waterfalls. It was steep and slippery with dead leaves and debris in lots of places. The trail wasn’t very well defined and we were often fighting our way through branches and scrambling over and under roots and fallen trees. I loved it. I was a little tired for a long hike, but it was just what I needed.

So far, I’ve enjoyed El Salvador. It’s so easy to meet other travelers here to the point where it’s almost impossible to be alone. The locals have all been really nice and helpful. In fact, I would’ve missed my bus yesterday if it hadn’t been for a local woman at her street stand. Later, when I was getting off the bus, I asked if we were in Juayua. I don’t know if the woman I asked was trying to be nice or misunderstood me, but she said “Si. Si.” and grabbed my small bag and started to continue down the bus aisle. But I was stuck behind my big bag and a crowd of people shoving down the aisle. I didn’t want to be rude, but I keep all of my valuables including my camera, computer, money, and passport in my small pack (as most backpackers do), so I had to politely decline her offer with an “Esta bien” and a tight grip on the little pack before she could get too far down the aisle.

The culture in Central America seems to be somewhere between that of SE Asia and home. Things are still much cheaper here in comparison to home, but more expensive than Asia. It’s just as hard to find vegetarian food here (especially if they make the tortillas and beans with lard) as it was sometimes in Asia, but at least I know how to ask for it here. Some people speak English here, especially in the coastal towns, but for the most part they speak only Spanish. True to their form in SE Asia, the food stalls here also sell some of the most delicious and cheap homemade food available. Religion and family, like in Asia, are by far the two most important things to the people here.

One difference that I appreciate here are that they seem to treat their animals with more respect than in SE Asia. Dogs and cats are beloved pets in many places here, whereas in SE Asia, most people treat them as disposable guards that control the vermin population. Women also seem to have a higher status here. They are not nearly as submissive as in Asia and it’s just as easy to ask for their help and advice as it is a man’s here, although this may be in part because the women in Asia rarely learn English, while here, I’m communicating with both sexes in their native tongue. But I still get the general feeling that women have more value here. El Salvador also uses the American dollar as it’s form of currency which is fantastic because I don’t have to do conversions in my head and I don’t have to try to calculate exactly how much money I need in the last few days to avoid losing a lot when I exchange it (because I’ll just keep it until I get home).

Tomorrow I’ll be joining a few other travelers I’ve met here at a lake house they’ve rented in Alpeneca. We’ll stay one or two nights and then I have one more stop I’d like to make in El Salvador before I head to Honduras.

Here’s the picture link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2920484&id=8369089&l=bf948f0012

I hope you are all doing well,

Sierra

Mayan Ruins and Active Volcanoes

sierrayla-1 — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 08:18:00 GMT

My relaxing weekend was just that. I hadn’t realized that I had been going nonstop for two weeks, and hadn’t slept past 7A in all that time. The next week was pretty uneventful. It was filled with Spanish class. I decided to go on a trip to Tikal the next weekend for 3 days, so I took 7 hours of Spanish per day, Mon-Thur, to make up for the ones I’d be missing on Fri. On Tuesday, I hiked up the Cerro de la Cruz (literally “The hill of the cross”) with our school. It’s a pretty short hike, but it affords a good view of the entire town of Antigua and surrounding volcanoes.

On Thursday, I went with our school to visit the “Mujeres Tejedoras” (“Women Weavers”) outside of Antigua. They’re part of a Mayan tribe who emigrated during the civil war. They explained their lifestyle to us and gave some demonstrations. They weave intricate clothing and they explained that certain types of clothing were worn depending on your marital status and that each color in the clothing had significance. Yellow is for the sun, green for the life surrounding them, red for blood and so on. They also weave grasses into mats. They work most of the day, every day, from the time they’re eight years old. It was very interesting and they encouraged us to be a part of their demonstrations. I tested my hand at tortilla making and it went pretty well.

The weekend was amazing. There were 18 of us from various Spanish schools in Antigua. We left in two vans at 4AM Friday morning and stopped at a Chiquita banana grove where our guide explained how bananas are cultivated. We also visited “Quirigua,” a site of Mayan ruins that pales in comparison to Tikal a bit, but is interesting nonetheless. It’s essentially a big field filled with rocks that were carved by the Mayans. I think my favorite was an estella (a pillar-shaped carving) that had various sex positions carved on it. Our guide explained that it represented creation, but I’m not convinced they knew sex resulted in infants back then. After all, they didn’t have microscopes yet. I think it’d be pretty difficult to make that connection. It’d kind of be like eating a plate of beans (which you eat several times a week perhaps, unless you’re married) and then getting sick nine months later and thinking, “Damn! It must’ve been those beans!”

After Quirigua, we stopped on the river near Rio Dulce for lunch and to visit the Castillo de San Felipe del Golfo, built by the Spanish in 1651 to protect the Caribbean port from rampant piracy. It was small, but pretty with great views and interestingly designed gunning alcoves. After lunch and a refreshing swim, we were on the road to Flores where we stayed the night. We were all exhausted when we finally got to our hotel at 10P.

We left for Tikal the next morning at 6A and had breakfast inside the park. Tikal was a great Mayan empire centuries ago and was built in the middle of the jungle. It’s taken scientists decades to uncover the temples and pyramids that were overgrown with grass and trees. In 1979, UNESCO declared it a world heritage site. From then on, archaeologists were no longer allowed to replace old stones with new ones and they can only uncover 40% of each structure. The city is massive and very impressive. The stairs are high-set and steep and it makes one wonder how these tiny people dragged all those stones to build the structures, let alone climb them afterwards. The place was beautiful and fascinating, but the pictures probably do a better job of describing the structures than I could.

After Tikal, we made our way back to Rio Dulce and then took a boat down the river in the dark to the place where we stayed in a sort of eco-lodge. It was very simple accommodation in the forest near the river. There was a massive spider on the screen in our bathroom, a frog in the cold water shower, and mosquito nets (on two of the three beds in our room anyway). It was an environment I’m perfectly comfortable in, but many of the people in our company were less than pleased, which served as a source of amusement for me. After we settled in, we headed to Livingston, a town at the mouth of the river. Probably once a happening town, it now bears resemblance to a red light district. We had dinner and a few drinks there, wandered down to the beach, then headed back.

On the last day of our tour we took the boat back down the river to the town of Rio Dulce, where we wandered for a couple of hours before heading back to Antigua. The trip was great, made better by a great group of people. I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I got home at 8:30P Sunday night – and I still had Spanish homework.

This last week was fairly uneventful, filled with Spanish class and spending a few last nights with the friends I’ve made here. On Thur. afternoon, a few of us climbed Volcan Picaya, one of the 3 remaining active volcanoes in the area. Apparently, you’re in more danger of getting robbed while climbing Picaya, than of getting incinerated. It’s probably the most popular tourist attraction near Antigua. If you’re lucky (or unlucky depending on how you look at it), you’ll see flowing lava when you near the top. The school had taken several people up 2 weeks prior and they didn’t see any flowing lava. But we were lucky. There was a nice “warm” streaming flow when we reached the top. The scene was completed by tourists roasting marshmallows and hot dogs over the flow. The experience was right up there with the giant shark chasing the turtle on my list.

Last night I was out late with friends. Today I tried to mail a 3-4 lb. package home to lighten my load a bit, but they wanted $40 to do it, so I changed my mind. Tomorrow, I move on from Antigua and am headed for El Zonte, a beach in El Salvador where I’m told there is surf during the day and campfires at night. Seven more weeks!

The photo link is the same, but the new pics start at #48:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2911009&id=8369089&l=125882dbde

Best wishes to you all,

Sierra

Spanish school in Antigua

sierrayla-1 — Mon, 8 Feb 2010 06:14:00 GMT

Hola de Antigua,

The trip down here from San Ignacio was a long one. I caught a bus to Benque, a town near the border. While on the bus I was very fortunate to meet two German girls, one of which spoke fluent Spanish. We shared a taxi to the border and crossed it together. The Belize side charges a $15 US processing fee and a $3.75 US conservation fee to get out and the Guatemalan side charges $3 US to get in. Once on the other side we planned to take a local (read cheap) bus to Flores, but a few men (presumably taxi drivers or working on commission) told us that the buses only run at 4P and 9P in the afternoon and pointed to a sign of a bus company which confirmed it. They told us we could go by taxi for $40 US. It was a little past noon so we didn’t want to wait until 4. However, we weren’t convinced that a taxi was our only option as Flores is the most common destination from the border because there’s a big bus hub there. So we walked down the street another block and turned the corner and, viola (!), there was a local minibus destined for Flores right there, ready to leave immediately for 30Q ea. ($3.75), so we hopped on. I am eternally grateful to Saskia, the German girl who speaks Spanish, because it may have taken me days to figure out how to get to Flores as not one person spoke English.

Flores is a beautiful town that’s actually an island on a lake. The bus station is in the adjacent town called Santa Elena, so you have to take a taxi or tuk tuk (a sort of motorcycle with a cart built around it for passengers) to get to Flores. The streets of Flores are made of cobblestone and all the buildings are bright earthy colors. The island is a small hill, so you have a view of the lake from almost anywhere on it.

Unfortunately, I only had a few short hours to enjoy Flores as my bus was at 4AM the next morning. The bus was supposed to take 9 hrs. but, true to Guatemalan form, it took 11.5, partly because of a flat tire acquired when our overstuffed bus attempted the slow ascent into the mountains. At 3:30P, we arrived and I used the very little Spanish I knew to get a taxi to Antigua for $25. I surely could’ve gotten a better deal or taken a bus instead, but after 11.5 hours, I really didn’t care (plus the school charges $30 to pick you up from Guatemala, so I actually saved $5). 45 min. later, I finally arrived at my host family’s home. The mother, Hilda, and her son, Marlon, greeted me at the door and Hilda showed me to my room right away. I was pleasantly surprised. The room is large, maybe even slightly larger than my bedroom at home. It has a double bed and twin bed in it with a private bathroom and I have it all to myself for 4 weeks, plus 3 meals a day except Sundays, plus 6 hrs of one-on-one Spanish instruction, 5 days a week. All of this cost me the whopping sum of $880. For four weeks! I love Central America.

Spanish school began promptly at 8A the following day. I met my teacher, Lesbia, and we got right to work. Learning Spanish is probably one of the hardest mental tasks I have ever tackled. I am constantly confused and overwhelmed. I get really excited when we read a whole passage or do a whole exercise and I understand everything. Then 5 min. later, I am completely lost again. After two weeks though, I understand most of what people are saying, and can get basic points across.

It gives one an interesting perspective to know another language. All these years of travelling I’ve heard many different languages. Some beautiful, some ugly, and virtually all of them sound like nonsense. As a monolingual American, it’s hard to imagine that these sounds are coming from other humans on the same planet. But once you start learning another language and hearing it spoken everywhere, you realize that these strange humans have words that allow them to share the thoughts and images in their heads, just like English-speakers do. I know this sounds incredibly naïve and ego-centric, but perhaps some of you can relate?

During my first week here, I indulged in all of the activities offered by the school, including salsa dance lessons, visiting a butterfly farm, visiting a coffee production coop, hiking partway up one of the many inactive volcanoes in the area, and visiting a jade factory. All of it was fun, but would’ve been much more interesting if I could understand the Spanish-speaking guide. So this week, I opted out of the activities and focused solely on my studies.

On my first weekend here, I made what turned out to be a bit of a poor decision to visit Samuc- Chempey (where one of the longest natural limestone bridges in the world is found and is pocked with a series of cascading crystal clear pools that are great for swimming), Lanquin (famous for its caves), and Coban (a large cultural city north of here). The tour was arranged by two fellow students. They researched several options and put a ton of legwork in to find the best deal. In the end, they decided to go with the brother of their host-mom as it seemed the right thing to do. The cost for the whole weekend would be $85, $25 more than some of the other companies, but they were told the higher cost was because the only rooms available at the hotel were private rooms with private baths. They were also told that it would take 5 hours one way to get there and we wouldn’t be going in a minivan (but something more comfortable instead) and that everything was included on the tour except meals and tubing on the river and that we would have a private Spanish-speaking guide. So they booked it along with 8 other students including me.

The first surprise was when we were picked up . . . in a minivan. The second was when the ride took 8 hours. The third was when we arrived and were told the kitchen was closed even though our guide assured us he’d called ahead to make reservations. The fourth and biggest yet was our rooms. There were four rooms for 10 people. Only one had a private bathroom and it had two beds. Another had 3-beds. The last two had 2 beds and one of them was a loft. To get to it you had to walk down the hill to a hut, climb the stairs to the porch of the hut, then climb a ladder to an opening guarded only by a poorly fitting curtain. To get to the bathroom, you had to go down the ladder, across the porch, down the stairs, follow a path to a set of about 25 stairs and go up them. Not that big of a deal, but kind of a pain in the middle of the night. Not to mention slightly dangerous after a couple of drinks and in a groggy half-asleep state. I was in this room. It did have the advantage of boasting a great view of the river and of being close enough to the river that it lulled you to sleep (though this could also be a curse given the bathroom situation).

Anyway, we quickly realized we’d all been taken. Such is the chance you take when you book plans through people you’ve met in developing countries. We do it with the best of intentions, but they, unfortunately, do not. The next day, there was so much confusion about what the plan was, that we only managed to make it to Samuc-Chempey for a hike and a swim (which was very beautiful and very nice) and then tubed down the river to our hotel. It turns out our “private Spanish-speaking guide” was our tour guides father and served in no way whatsoever as a guide, although we all thought he was adorable and were impressed by his ability to climb a steep hike at 81 years of age. When it became obvious that not everything was included, we got upset and one of the men who had booked the trip took the guide aside to have a talk with him. Apparently, the guide didn’t appreciate that because when we arrived back from tubing, he was waiting there with his sister (the man’s host mother) on the phone and she promptly gave him an earful. Our guide disappeared for the rest of the night without telling us the plan for the next day. So we got up early, tracked him down, and then all left, skipping the caves and only stopping in Coban for ½ hr. on the way home, which took 9 hours.

When I got home, I went to charge my camera battery and promptly dropped the charger on the floor. It broke. Again. (I had to replace it in Malaysia for $40 after a power outage in Indo fried it). It was $40 to replace it. Again. Then, I had a small dinner and began to feel very ill. In the middle of the night, my stomach decided to swiftly and violently return all of the food deposits of the day (and judging by the sheer volume of it from the night before as well). The next morning my stomach was on fire and I was in a lot of pain, but I sucked it up and went to school so I wouldn’t miss my lessons. There I learned that at least 4 other people from the trip had been sick and one of them went to the hospital with appendicitis. I’m not sure if this was related, but scary nonetheless. I made it through a little over an hour of lessons, but I just couldn’t focus, so I decided to go home to bed and make the rest of the lessons up by upping my hours to 7 for the rest of the week.

The next night (Tues), the school had a fiesta, based on a very odd tradition. Apparently, someone steals the baby Jesus of another family (I guess every family has one?). A few days later the entire family and relatives and friends go in a procession down the street, go into that persons home, bind and blindfold the thief, and then bring them back to their home, along with the recovered baby Jesus. There they return baby Jesus. This is normally followed by half an hour of prayer or so (though our teachers mercifully halted after ten). This is followed by music, dancing, and refreshments. At the end of the fiesta, egg shells that have been emptied and filled with confetti are cracked on everyone’s heads. It was all very odd, but slightly entertaining. I ate ham by accident. It was in a salad I was eating in the dark and a teacher had specifically told me it was vegetarian (I asked in Spanish). When I moved into the light I was horrified to find that there were mounds of it on my plate. I got sick again the next day. My stomach is just now recovering from the last week. I am told this is very normal for travelers here.

So, this weekend, I opted to stay in Antigua and take it easy.

Here is the photo link:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2911009&id=8369089&l=125882dbde

Love and good thoughts to you all.

Sierra

Photos: Central America

sierrayla-1 — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 12:28:00 GMT

Belize

sierrayla-1 — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 12:20:00 GMT

Greetings from Belize. It’s nice to be traveling again even though it doesn’t seem as though it’s been very long since my last trip. It’s also nice to be writing this at a bar/restaurant rather than in an internet café now that I have my new mini-computer. Belize is very unlike Southeast Asia in a lot of ways. For one thing, they speak English as a main language here. It’s very bizarre being in a developing country where people completely understand what you’re saying and you them. It’s like being in an alternate universe.

Belize is one of the more expensive countries in Central America. Where I was paying $2-$4 for a meal and $4-$7 for a private room with private bath is SE Asia, I pay $6-$8 for a meal and $10-$12 for a room with a community bathroom in Belize. I’m told the other countries I plan to visit are much cheaper. I am also caught off guard with how honest people seem to be so far. I’m used to lies and tricks to get the most money out of me, but prices seem to be fairly fixed here and transportation is less stressful when you don’t have to haggle prices.

I‘m so used to being absolutely exhausted (after 30+ hours of traveling) when I arrive for an extended trip somewhere. There’s something satisfying about finally getting a room after such a long journey, as if you’ve accomplished something. But the flight here was so short (barely over 2 hrs.) as to be anticlimactic. From the airport, I took a $25 taxi to the Marine terminal in town and hopped a $7.50 ferry to Caye Caulker, a small island in the Caribbean favored by backpackers. I spent two days snorkeling and diving there, including a dive in the infamous “Blue Hole” where we descended to 130 ft (40m) to take a quick view of the stalactites there. Our tour also included a visit by some 3-4 large grey reef sharks appearing out of the murky unending hole below us. It should have been terrifying, but I think I was a little loopy from the Nitrogen, so it was just fascinating, like I was watching it on TV. On our second dive we went to a reef nearby where I saw the coolest thing I have ever seen underwater – a turtle being chased by a 13 ft shark (presumably a tiger shark since I know of no other species to consume turtles except for maybe bull sharks (?)). It was far enough away to witness without feeling threatened or scared and I couldn’t even i.d. the shark. I know it sounds scary, but it was pretty cool.

Next I took the local bus to San Ignacio where I did a tour of some Mayan ruins in the Actun Tunichil Muknal (ATM) cave. It was great fun as the entrance to the cave required a brisk swim through a pool of water. Most of the rest of the ¾ mile walk through the cave was through an underground river. As if that weren’t enough fun, we arrived at various pottery items and a few skeletons dating over 1000 years old. The cave is considered a sacred place where people came to be sacrificed to the gods. The way it was explained to us is that the sacrifices occurred during a time of famine, drought, and warfare. So the Mayans felt compelled to sacrifice some of their most valuable members to appease their gods. To be sacrificed was a great honor. We were also told that Mayans mourned birth and celebrated death because to have your spirit sent to Earth was akin to a kind of punishment. It was thought that to come to Earth and live a life here meant great suffering for the duration of your life. Now there are some people in serious need of some Prozac! But seriously, it was a fascinating glimpse into the lives and deaths of a unique and powerful civilization that continues, to some degree, in its descendants today.

Anyway, I’ve been enjoying myself so far. There’s a curious mix of religions here with the predominant one being Roman Catholic. But it’s not uncommon to see Rastafarians, Mennonites, and Amish here and there. Generally the people are very nice and genuine. I had a hard time feeling a connection with fellow travelers in Caye Caulker, but met a few interesting people in San Ignacio. Today, I’ll be heading to Guatemala to make my way down to Antigua for 4 weeks of Spanish school. Hopefully, it proves useful in the weeks afterward. . .

I hope you are all happy and well and that 2010 brings good fortune.

Here is the link to the photos if you haven't seen them already:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2904269&id=8369089&l=8158c114f6

Sierra

The Last Leg

sierrayla-1 — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 09:51:00 GMT

Hello from stateside. Here is the final installment :-(

    My flight from Clark/Manila took me to Singapore where I stayed the night in the aiport (8 hrs) before flying to Phuket, Thailand the next day. For those of you had haven't been to the town of Phuket (not the island itself), there's no need to go. I stayed in the same guesthouse that the guy in the movie "The Beach" did (the one that looks like a jail cell). I basically used Phuket to figure out where to go next since I had decided to forgo my planned live-aboard diving cruise because of the persistent ringing in my ear from the dive in Sipidan (which is still there by the way).

    I decided to head to Phang Nga, gateway to Ao Phang Nga, a bay known for it's beautiful mangroves and karsts and "Jame's Bond Island." Phang Nga is not the only gateway to Ao Phang Nga, but it turns out it's the one favored by the locals. I hadn't had a fluent English conversation other than a job interview (which I got) since I'd left El Nido a few days before. Phang Nga was not going to be my relief. I met one other tourist there and he was a Frenchman who didn't speak English! So I visited "Heaven and Hell" cave, which I can't really explain, so you'll have to look at the pics. Next I went on a day tour of Ao Phang Nga and ended up being with 10 Thais that were all on vacation together. They spoke very little English, but it was enough to communicate. They took me under their wing and I ended up having a fantastic time.

    Next I went to Khao Sok National Park where Rafflesia (the largest flower in the world and smells like putrid flesh to attract it's prey - flies) are normally found. It wasn't the blooming season for Rafflesia so I joined the leeches once again (or rather they joined me) for a few hikes in the park.

    After clearing all the leeches off I took a bus to the train station where I caught the overnight train to Bangkok and then another train to Chiang Mai. You'd think trains would be on time, but we were stopped by a landslide on the rail ahead on the way to Chiang Mai. So by the time I reached my guesthouse in Chiang Mai, it had been 32 hrs. since I'd left Khao Sok. The overnight trains aren't like the overnight buses though. You get a comfy bed and actually get some sleep.

    In Chiang Mai, I visited the Tiger Kingdom and then booked a 3-day hilltribe trek. I was going to book the trek with Gina and Crystal, the girls I went to Tiger Kingdom with, but I found one for 2/3 the price and there were already 4 people booked on it, so I went with that one. I began to regret my decision the next morning when we picked up the other trekkers: an elderly French couple that didin't speak English and a German guy with his Thai girlfriend (neither spoke much English either). We started the day with elephant trekking and I asked to ride on the elephants neck because the seats they use are very uncomfortable. The guide was happy to let me do this because we had an odd number of people. I enjoyed the ride much more than previous ones, but I still don't approve of the way they treat the elephants. They keep them chained to the ground when their not working so that they can't touch each other, often out in the sun.

    After the elephant ride we had lunch and then hiked to a waterfall where we swam before hiking to our camp for the night. It was a very quiet night and I had resigned myself to bed around 8:30 when our guide called us to the main area to explain that I was on a 3-day trek while the others were on a 2-day trek so our itineraries would differ the next day. This was the first I'd heard that the others were only on a 2-day trek and I nearly asked to go back with them. But I didn't and it ended up being an excellent experience.  My guide and I stayed with a family from the Karen tribe that night and they welcomed me and went on with their lives as if I wasn't there. We all ate dinner and breakfast together in their common area the traditional way (with their hands from a big communal plate in the middle - but I had a separate vegetarian plate). I watched them socialize and laugh with each other all night. It was beautiful and I suddenly felt extremely lucky to be on the trek without other foreigners.

    When I got back to Chiang Mai, I met up with Gina again and discovered that Crystal had broken her leg on the first day of the trek and would be remaining in Chiang Mai to get surgery. Yikes! So Gina and I went to dinner, the night market, and then for some dancing. It was a late night, but I managed to make it to Pai the next day. Pai is a small artsy, hippie town in the northwest of Thailand near the Burmese border. It's a great place to find healthy food, a laid-back atmosphere and good company. I had planned on spending 4-5 days there and then heading down to Koh Samui, an island near Bangkok, before heading home, but I enjoyed it so much I stayed 8 days. I met several people there and we formed a sort of family group. We spent most of our time together at the pool/gym/restaurant/bar ($1.50 admission), various waterfalls, and trapsing around on motorbikes. It was the perfect ending to a sensational 6 month trip.

    The day I left Pai, I was a bit teary-eyed. To me, this is where my trip ended since my last two days were to be spent in Bangkok buying souvenirs/gifts, visiting the Grand Palace and Emerald Buddha, and getting my teeth checked for cavities and whitened ($150). Then it was time to head "home" and after 30 hours and 3 flights, I was back in New Jersey and, 36 hours later, driving a car for the first time in 6 months . . . to Texas - a 30 hr. drive - to begin job training 10 hours after I arrived. Our training lasted 2 weeks and I couch-surfed until it was complete. And then I was stuck on a barge somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico for two weeks. My job is to make sure turtles and marine mammals (protected species) aren't in the vicinity when oil companies use explosives to remove old oil platforms.  It's a little boring, but I take consolation in the fact that I'm making money for my next trip . . .

Picture links:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2725248&id=8369089&l=4e17c7e485

AND

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2731257&id=8369089&l=0241364895

AND

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2736887&id=8369089&l=eadb219d60

Running out of time

sierrayla-1 — Fri, 15 May 2009 02:19:00 GMT

Hello from Bangkok, where I await my flight home. And now back to the Philippines. . .

    So I flew to Manila with Felix and we took a bus into town. Manila is everything everyone has said it was - super sketchy, dirty, and ugly. We couldn't wait to get out of there and I was glad I'd booked a ferry to Coron for the next day. Felix, not being a diver, booked the same ferry to Puerto Princesa because he was convinced there would be nothing to do in Coron besides diving. On the ferry, I met Pete from the UK and Martin, an expat from Germany living in Manila. When the ferry docked in Coron, I said goodbye to Felix and split a taxi with Pete to town.

    Coron is a beautiful town on the island of Basuanga in the Palawan Province of The Philippines. While there, I spent my time with Pete, Martin and his Filipino girlfriend Fritzy, and Robert (Norway) and his Filipino girlfriend Lea. We went on an island hopping snorkel cruise, a few hikes, a tour of Culion island (the nearby leper colony), and dove a few wrecks. The wreck diving was fun, but I was unimpressed overall with the sea life in the Philippines.

    After Coron, Pete and I grabbed a small boat to El Nido on Palawan Island. El Nido is often described by other travelers as the most beautiful seascape they have ever seen. They were not exaggerating. Framed by ragged limestone cliffs and islands, it is stunning. We spent our time there snorkeling, going for walks, and relaxing. We also ran into Robert and Lea again, so hung out with them a bit.

    The Philippines went by fast and before I knew it I was on my way back to Thailand, which took three flights and three buses. I said goodbye to Pete in the morning and headed to Puerto Princesa where I caught my first flight to Manila the next morning after spending an afternoon exploring the city. I was surprised and confused when the tricycle taxi (basically a motorbike with a big side car at the level of the seat) pulled up to the airport. It looked more like a bus station and I thought surely my driver had made a mistake. But he hadn't. So I knew I was in trouble when I realized I hadn't printed out my itinerary and their system was down, so I waited for nearly 40 min. before they finally got someone on the line in Manila or gave up and stapled a hand-written ticket to my hand-written itinerary and confirmation number (see the pic).

    So I made it to Manila and took a taxi into town (I was flying out of a different airport 2 hrs. away in 9 hrs.). On the way, it started down-pouring and the streets quickly flooded. I spent a few hours in town getting lunch and uploading photos before grabbing a taxi to the bus station that would take me to the airport. The bus was at 3P and I left town at 2:20P with the station 10-15 min away (normally), but there was so much traffic from the flooding (which had subsided a bit by now, though it was still raining) that I decided to hoof it by 2:45P when we were about a 23 min. walk away and not moving an inch. So I half speed walked half ran through the rain with nearly 50 lb. of gear and made it to the bus station at 3:02P. I went to the desk and asked for a ticket for the 3P bus (the last bus of the day) and the ticket agent responded, "The last bus was at 2:30." (Apparently they need to update their website. So I asked where I might find another bus to the airport and she directed me to a bus station across the street. Sounds easy right? Well, to get across the busy street, one has to use a pedestrian bridge. So I ran to and up and over the bridge and found the station after stopping to ask about 5 locals (it wasn't obvious - there are about 30 bus stations in Manila). Luckily, there was an information booth at the front of the station with a woman who spoke English. She told me to take the 3:30 bus to Dau and take a taxi from there to the airport.

    So I bought my ticket and spent the next 20 min trying to figure out where Dau was. I finally found it on a map right next to the airport. Perfect! Now I just had to hope the traffic wasn't so bad I'd miss my 8P flight. It took us 1 1/2 hrs to get out of Manila, but we arrived in Dau just before 6P. Then I learned that there were no taxis at the bus station, just tricycles (not like the ones I was used to. These were basically motorbikes with a traditional side car) and the tricycles could only take me to the gate of the airport 2 km away and I'd have to catch a taxi the other 7 km. So I negotiated a price (which you have to do everywhere here or you'll get ripped off) and caught a tricycle to a taxi where I negotiated another price to get me to the airport. And I made it! Phew!

    Okay, this entry is getting a bit windy, so I'll leave it here for now and let you all breathe a bit before I send the last installment.

    Here are the links for the pics from the Phillipines:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2719475&id=8369089&l=1e9141e3e3

AND
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2719507&id=8369089&l=b5b72155bf

Hope you are all well. See many of you soon!

Sierra

Bed bugs, orangutans and mountain summits‏

sierrayla-1 — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 20:43:00 GMT

Hello all,

    I write from Phang Nga, Thailand. It's been about four days since I've had a fluent English conversation and I'm starting to wish I knew Thai. . . I last left you in Semporna where I was recovering from an ear injury from diving beautiful Sipidan. We headed to Uncle Tans next and took a 3-day, 2-night jungle safari starting with a visit to the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Center. That was pretty cool. We met Andy from Scotland and Maxine from London on the bus there. Andy joined us on the tour, but they were fully booked, so Maxine went off on her own. We saw 5 orangutans (see the pics) and lots of Macaques (monkeys). Then we were whisked off (I use those terms very loosely as we waited several hours for our bus and then our boat) to the jungle camp in the lower Kinabatangan valley. Our "hut" was a very basic sort of six-person lean-to with 3 full-sized beds with mosquito nets. While at the camp we went on 4 boat safaris (1 at night) up and down the river and 2 trekking safaris (1 at night). We saw lots of jungle critters including orangutans, gibbons, proboscis monkeys, macaques, flying foxes, cervid cats, river otters, crocodiles, eagles, owls, egrets, king fishers, frogs, flying lizards, and various insects and spiders, including a largish tarantula.

    Next we were off to Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah state in Malaysia.  Andy, Lauren and I were planning an excursion to Brunei, but we ran into Maxine and she wanted to go to Kinabalu National Park. I couldn't resist the temptation of more hiking so I went with her, while Lauren and Andy split to Brunei.  That night I was awoken by some insect biting me at 2A (bed bugs). The biting and scratching continued until I finally went to reception at 5A to see if I could get another room. My options were to either pay (a lot) more for my own room or wake up the people in the dorm room next to ours (where there would likely be more bed bugs), so I decided to crash on the lobby couch. At 7A Lauren and Andy came down and I went up to pack for the park, tired and a little grumpy.

    The park boasts the highest mountain in Borneo, Mt. Kinabalu at 4095 meters (13,435 ft). It's a very popular mountain to climb. The hitch is that you are required to have a permit and guide to climb it and most people take two days to do it, stopping over in dorm beds that go for US$100/night (plus the permit, insurance, and guide US$42). A bit out of my budget. We discovered that we could do it one day, but they only issue 4 permits pre day for the one day hike and the next day was fully booked. So we decided to try it anyway . . . and got turned around halfway up (4 km or 2.5 miles). When we got to the bottom we checked availability for the next day and got permission to do the one-day climb (for about US$42). Our guide, Wilfred, met us at 7 the next morning and we were at the trail head shortly before 7:30. By this time we were a little tired from the day before, but determined to make it to the top, so we asked Wilfred how many people make it to the top in one day. He tells us he had 7 groups in Feb. try to climb the summit in one day and 1 group made it! So we had our work cut out for us. Turns out we were pretty motivated and made it to the summit (8.7 km or 5.4 miles) in 6 hours with a one hour break included! We were ecstatic and exhausted. Unfortunately, there was no view because it tends to get rainy and misty in the afternoons (which is why most people do it in two days - reaching the summit at dawn the second day), so we took our pics with the summit sign, had some ginger cookies, and headed back down.  The steep and slippery trail took us 5.5 hours to get down, so we completed the roundtrip journey at 7P.

    Maxine had a flight to catch the next morning, so after dinner, she hightailed it to Kota Kinabalu while I stayed the night and headed to Poring Hot Springs the next day to soothe my aching muscles. I wouldn't recommend them though. It took me two public buses to get there and a lot of haggling. Then you couldn't actually go in the hot springs. Instead there were outdoor tubs with two taps, one from the hot springs and one with cold water so you could adjust the temp. Each tub took about 2 hours to fill. There were plenty of other things to do there - an orchid garden, a butterfly garden etc., but each garden charged admission ($2-$3 and up). I decided to forgo these activities just on principle. So I walked around a bit, soaked in a tub and spent an hour trying to find a ride back to Kota Kinabalu (KK). I finally finagled my way into a chartered van headed back to Kinabalu National Park where I knew I could catch a bus to KK. When I arrived I was told the last bus had left, but I was pretty sure there'd be more (it was only 4:30P and I'd been told the last one left at 5), so I waited. A few minutes later a van pulled up to ask the local standing next to me if he was going to KK and he said no. I said I was and, assuming he was a bus driver (many drive minibuses or vans), hopped in. I soon discovered that he was not a bus driver and I had inadvertently hitchhiked. But he seemed nice enough and charged the same amount as the bus. In the end he dropped me near the guesthouse I had stored my bags at. I met Lauren there and we found a new guest house (w/no bed bugs, yay!).

    I spent the next day and a half recovering from the hike and running errands. Then Lauren and I said goodbye for the last time in SE Asia and I caught a plane to Manila in the Philippines. A German named Felix was staying at our guest house and happened to be on the same plane, so we journeyed together.

    Okay, that's enough for now. Philippines to come . . .

    Here are the links for the photos:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2714611&id=8369089&l=4bf2708026

AND

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2714597&id=8369089&l=6303510c21

    I hope you are all happy and healthy.

Sierra

From Bali to Borneo

sierrayla-1 — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 20:42:00 GMT

Greetings from Semporna,Malaysian Borneo.

    I'll start by going back to Bali. I met up with Lauren again in the Denpasar (Bali) airport and we shared a taxi to Kuta with a British guy named Nick. We spent about an hour wandering around looking for a cheap place to stay before we finally found a beautiful hotel with a swimming pool and veranda overlooking a garden for less than $8 a night. We spent a few days in Kuta decompressing and ran into Alisa, whom we'd met in Laos. We also met up with Caroline and Ramona (the Swedish girls) again. I surfed a bit and Caroline, Ramona, and Lauren gave it a try. The surf wasn't that great though and I was not disappointed to head to the Gili Islands. We were joined by Alisa.

    Many other travelers have recommended the Gilis, three small islands off the west coast of Lombok, and one went so far as to say it was the most beautiful beach he'd ever seen. They weren't exaggerating. We stayed on Gili Trawangan, the backpacker island, and it was fantastic. So much so that we spent our longest stint of the trip on this island (a whopping 6 full nights). The view from the beach is breathtaking with crystal blue waters meeting the deeper blue hue of the open ocean with the green mountains of Lombok clearly visible in the background. There are no dogs or motorized vehicles on the island. Only cats, pony-drawn carriages, and bicycles. My only complaint was that the coral was all dead, shattered into smithereens by dynamite fishing. The damage was so extensive that it's hard not to contemplate the future while snorkeling, diving, or swimming here. So I only went on one dive while there. The rest of the time was spent exploring the island, hiking to the fantastic sunset spot, and relaxing on the beach. We ran into Nick again and we all spent St. Paddy's day at the only Irish bar on the island and it was far from disappointing. But it was time to move on and we headed to Nusa Lembongan next, splitting from Alisa as she headed to Kimodo Island.

    Nusa Lembongan is another beautiful island and is off the east of Bali. We were only there for two nights, and spent it exploring, relaxing and diving. We went on two dives that were far better than the one in the Gilis (see the pics). The current on the second dive exceeded 4 knots and we were flying past fish and coral, dodging the occasional outcrop. It was fun. We were running short on our time in Bali though so we left for Ubud.

    Ubud is a quaint little mountain town in the heart of Bali and is known for its eclectic community of artists. The town has the feel of old-school hippie mixed with new-age art, not unlike Austin or Breckenridge. The air was a bit cooler, which we welcomed with relief. We visited the Sacred Monkey Forest where I was harassed by long-tailed macaques overly interested in my flowy green dress. I had to play tug of war with several of the cheeky primates to keep myself fully dressed. The Sacred Monkey Forest is as the name suggests and Hindus flock to the temples here to worship. We also checked out the local crafts market, which was amazing and cheap. If I ever buy a house, I'm coming back here to furnish it! Next we took a downhill bike tour of the area and learned about Balinese culture, sampled cervid poo (yes, poo of the fecal sort) coffee, and had a delicious traditional Balinese feast. Our guide, Dharma, was amazing and we learned, among other things, that it is the men's job to lovingly wrap the placenta of his child and bury it under a rock in a designated garden of the compound. A compound is a traditional way of living which consists of several households of male relatives living within the same walls. It was really interesting and we learned a lot.

    After our bike tour, we were dropped off back in Kuta where we said our final goodbyes to the Swedish girls on their last night, ran into Nick again (who had left the Gilis for Jakarta days ago and had already returned and was now booked on the same flight as us to KL), met up with Alisa one last time, stocked up on supplies, and took advantage of the cheap internet before heading to Borneo via Kuala Lumpur two days later.

    Okay, even many travelers don't understand where or what Borneo is, so let me explain. Borneo itself is an island composed of parts of Indonesia and Malaysia and the entire (tiny) country of Brunei. So it's one island, 3 countries. It is east of peninsular Malaysia and Thailand and north of Java, Indonesia. It's also where some of the best diving in the world is found. By far the most popular and fabled dive sight in Borneo is Sipidan Island, which is where we were heading. Sipidan is now protected and you can no longer stay on the island and you need a permit to enter the waters nearby, so there is a wait list for diving here. However, we had booked 3 dives ahead of time and there are a few dive companies who have cheap accommodation on the nearby island of Mabul, with daily excursions to Sipidan and other dive sites around Mabul. We stayed at a place called Uncle Chang's. Unfortunately, I had caught a cold in Nusa Lembongan and was still recovering so I spent two days on Mabul before attempting to dive. Lauren suffered the same predicament, but she was in an earlier stage of her cold, so she decided to stay in Semporna (the dirty, boring town that is the gateway to Sipidan and Mabul, but has better supplies) one more night.

Uncle Chang's is a small conglomeration of wooden buildings on stilts with a main deck serving as a common/dining area. I spent the first two days relaxing in the deck chairs, on the nearby beach, and snorkeling. It was relaxing and just what I needed, but there really is nothing to do there unless you want to snorkel or dive. It's not a great beach. Anyway, the much anticipated day of the Sipidan dives finally arrived and I was very excited, having looked forward to these dives since early in our trip. I grabbed my camera and, although the indicator light on the battery charger had gone out, I was hopeful that my battery had charged. The first dive was a disaster. Despite my taking two full days to recover on Mabul and having taken decongestants, I could not clear my ears and experienced vertigo underwater while simultaneously discovering that my camera battery had not charged and my camera was now dead. At the end of the dive, I could no longer hear out of my left ear, except for a faint ringing that was to become louder over the next few days. We disembarked on Sipidan island for some tea and I discovered that I had no balance and was walking like a drunken sailor, completely disoriented. So, in the end I decided to snorkel for the remaining two dives. It was absolutely amazing still and I really wish I had pictures to show you! We saw several sharks, so many turtles they became boring after a while, barracuda, bat fish, huge Napoleon Wrasse, tons of unicorn fish, and lots of other goodies.

    The next day, Lauren was able to fill in for me on my 3 nonrefundable dives in Mabul, since she hadn't yet booked any dives, so that was a bit of a relief. I'm still a little bummed that I only got to do 1 of 6 dives. It didn't help that the resident cat decided to mark my sarong and small backpack as its territory, or that my camera had died with its lens fully extended and open and will remain that way until I can track down a new charger, or that my big backpack was the only one to get soaked on the way back to Semporna, or even that the clinic wasn't open when we arrived and we'd have to stay another day, but the snorkelling alone was worth it. And I guess I have another excuse to come back. So I went to the doctor today and he wasn't much help. I made a better diagnosis online. It appears I have inner ear barotrauma. Basically, I've damaged my ear because of the pressure caused by diving with a cold. The doctor simply said "It looks red and there may be some sand in there. Don't dive until the ringing stops. Here are some drops." Well. At least it only cost me 25 Malaysian Ringitt to find that out (less than $7). So I'll go on with my journey and wait for the ringing to stop and for my balance to return. Tomorrow we head to Sepilok where we'll go on a jungle trek and visit an Orangutan sanctuary! I'm excited about that, particularly since it doesn't involve any pressure changes :-)

    I've finally managed to put up my Burma photos, so here is the link for those:http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2704676&id=8369089&l=136a6c9451

    And the (3) links for Indonesia are:http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2703830&id=8369089&l=abd17b7b6e

AND
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2704777&id=8369089&l=2605e7dfc3

AND

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2704804&id=8369089&l=9c39645abe

I hope you are all doing well.

Sierra

Visa runs, leeches, and island hopping‏

sierrayla-1 — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 01:08:00 GMT

Hello all,

    I hail from Kuta, Bali where we'll be catching a plane to Borneo tomorrow. I last left you in Koh Samui when Jedd, Nico, Doris and I split from Ashleigh and Lauren to head to Ranong. Once in Ranong (which is one of the cheapest places in Thailand to stay), Jedd and I said our goodbyes to the other two and headed to Burma for the night to do a visa run. We loved it. Burma is a strange country with its people oppressed by the military government and there are still many areas where tourists aren't allowed. We were in the very south of Burma in a place called Kawthoung. When we first arrived, we were told by the waiting guides that tourists were not allowed in town without a guide. Knowing this was most likely a lie in an attempt to make money, we decided to go it on our own. One particular guide was still very helpful and gave us directions to the cheapest guesthouse in town. After checking in we wandered around a bit and decided to grab a cold drink and sit on a stoop on the road leading into town. This turned out to be highly amusing. The locals aren't used to seeing tourists here (we were 2 of 6 tourists staying the night) and they all did double takes as they passed on their motorbikes before grinning from ear to ear and yelling a friendly "Hello!"  It was starting to feel as though we were the tourist attraction. We were having a great time, but we quickly realized we knew nothing about the area or where to go. So we headed back to the border and asked the friendly guide (Win) to show us around.

    Win was very friendly and knew the area well, having moved there to care for his sick mother when she returned home from Malaysia 10 years ago after the doctors gave her 6 mos. to live. He showed us the market, a temple, and some other sights and took us to try some local food and drink for lunch and brought us to watch the sunset over the water. Then he dropped us off at our hotel for a shower before taking us out for a Valentine's Day dinner and a fancy bar for a night cap before bed. He was a wonderful guide and it couldn't have been a better V Day.

    After our border run, Jedd and I headed to Krabi, Thailand to meet up with Lauren and Ashleigh again, but they were so disenchanted with the place that they had left for Koh Phi Phi, so we caught up with them there a day later. Koh Phi Phi is an island off the southwest of Thailand in the Andaman Sea and is known for its nightlife and diving. I hated it the instant we got off the boat. It was hot, expensive, and a total zoo. The town was built to absorb heat, situated on a spit between two hillier parts of the island so that there was no breeze. The streets were narrow; there was concrete everywhere and the buildings were high. I could see how the diving might be fun, but I was drenched in sweat the entire time I was there with no relief (A/C rooms cost over $30/night which is way out of our budget even though it sounds cheap). I also got food poisoning the first night I was there and that didn't help matters either. It was, by far, the worst place to be sick. Although I had fun at night with my friends, I was ready to get out, so Jedd and I left Lauren and Ashleigh again for the breezier, more laid back Koh Lanta.

   Koh Lanta, a neighboring island of Koh Phi Phi, was a breath of fresh air and Jedd and I spent a couple of days relaxing and joined a local jam circle of guitars and drums on Jedd's last night. Then Jedd headed off to fly home from Bangkok and Lauren arrived that same afternoon, then Ashleigh the next day. We treated ourselves to an A/C room for $20 split between the 3 of us, before we all went our separate ways. I left for Malaysia on my own, Lauren headed to Australia, and Ashleigh to northern Thailand.

    In Malaysia, I started in Langkawi, a duty-free island on the northwest coast of peninsular Malaysia near the Thai border. It's the most popular vacation destination for Malaysians on the peninsula and is a big, beautiful island. I spent only a few days there, riding the cable car and hanging out on the beach with Niklas and Olaf, a German and a Norweigan who were travelling together.

    Next I took an overnight bus to the east coast where I caught a short ferry ride to the fabled Perhentian islands. The Perhentians consist of two islands and I stayed on the smaller one. Its reputation as a paradise and diver's haven is well-deserved. The island I was on was tiny and you could walk from one side to the other in 12 min. I did 2 dives here, but my timing was poor, having hit the end of the monsoon season, so the weather and visibility left much to be desired.  But the company was excellent and I met Paula and Leigh, a young couple from England, Stephan from Germany, and Sabina from Austria. On our last day the weather was too poor for diving, so Paula, Leigh and I booked a snorkel trip that took us to five sights. It turned out to be fantastic and we saw several sharks and sea turtles as well as tons of fish and beautiful coral reef.

    After the Perhentians, I caught a ferry back to the mainland during a torrential storm and got absolutely drenched (but my bag stayed dry - thanks Todd!) before catching a bus to Taman Negara National Park. It's a beautiful place with untouched jungle, but loads of leeches. It was here where I hoped to book a 3-day trek, but no one else was booked for one, so a friendly local named Asri explained how I could see the area and do a trek on my own. He lent me a sleeping bag, flash light and binoculars and showed me the trail to take on a map.  The next day, I hiked the Canopy trail, a trail that leads to a series of suspension bridges hanging in the forest canopy. It was quite a rush. Then Asri took me up the river to Nusa camp in his friend's boat and then showed me Nusa village, a nomadic aboriginal village. He hung out with me at night and got a little too friendly before I politely explained that I was only interested in being friends before excusing myself for bed. This is not unusual. All women who travel alone in muslim countries report constant harassment and propositions from local men. It's a pain, but most are genuinely friendly and I never felt unsafe.

    The next day I hiked two short trails before heading to a "hide" in the jungle. A hide is a hut situated high up overlooking a clearing or waterhole where animals tend to congregate. Possibilities included tigers, deer, and tapirs. Although I was the only one in the hide, so it was completely silent (on the human front anyway), I didn't see a single animal. But the sounds were pretty cool, albeit a little frightening at times. The next day I hiked a 12.5 km jungle trail, hopping over logs, scrambling under others, crossing rivers that came to mid-thigh level, and stopping every 10 min. to pick the leeches off my shoes. It was great fun, but I was exhausted by the end of the hike, having paused only once (to let a 7 ft. snake slither out of the way before passing by) due to the constant harassment by the leeches.

    Having thoroughly exhausted myself, I headed to Kuala Lumpur (KL) next to catch my flight to Bali where I'd meet up with Lauren again. I met a nice German man named Leo on the bus and we spent the entire time in KL together, exploring the city. We only had an afternoon and morning there, but were able to see Chinatown, Little India, the Petronas towers, and the KLCC, a mall where the east meets the west and you can buy everything from burkas to Birkenstocks. There was even a Chili's restaurant and a California Pizza House right above the Prada shop. We also took the time to watch "Marley and Me" in the cinema. I was scared to go to KL at first, but enjoyed it in the end. Then I was off to Bali where I've been for the last two weeks, but will save that story for the next posting.

    I've been having a bit of trouble with my photos lately. The ones from Burma are stuck on a jump drive that's acquired a virus and Facebook has not been able to upload the last few times I've tried. But here is the link to the photos from Malaysia:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2703766&id=8369089&l=3e2f2829dd

More to come. . .

Hope you are all well,
Sierra

Livin it up in Thailand

sierrayla-1 — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 21:51:00 GMT

Hi everyone,

I'm writing this from an island in the Gulf of Thailand called Koh Samui. When I left Laos, I spent two nights in a row on buses to get to Khao Lak, where our live aboard dive cruise was leaving for the Similan Islands. The first bus went from Vientiane, Laos to Bangkok, Thailand with a stop at the border where they gave me a 15-day stamp. I don't know how many of you have been to Thailand before, but 15 days is nothing - you really can't do much. So I'll have to make a "visa run," which is what they call it when you travel to the border of another country to cross it, turn around and enter the original country again. It's perfectly legal and there are even visa run "tours" organized by tour companies. In Bangkok, I said goodbye to Matt and hopped on the second bus with Lauren to Khao Lak. Once we got there, we found the most comfortable beds in town and got a good night's sleep before our trip the next day.

Our 4-day, 4-night live aboard dive cruise left at 5P on Feb 3. During the day, we spent most of our time relaxing and preparing for our trip - repacking bags and getting our rental gear in order. Our first night on the boat was spent in transit to the Similan Islands. Lauren and I shared a 4-bed dorm style room with Tom, a freelance underwater photographer who'd been on many trips with the company (Similan Diving Safaris which I highly recommend by the way). Our first dive was just after 7A the next day. We knew we were in for a treat, but wow! The diving was amazing and I had a lot of firsts, including my first sea snake, lionfish, leopard shark, cuttlefish, nudibranch mating, lionfish hunting, and giant moray eel hunting. Some of you may have heard of a Giant Moray Eel known as "Emma" who is used to being fed by divers and bit off the thumb of one unlucky (and none too smart) diver who was feeding her hotdogs of all things. There is video footage of it on YouTube and it has also been shown on TV. Anyway, I swam past her (our dive company was very eco-conscious and forbids feeding wild animals whlie diving). She is still alive and happy in her little rock. There were 14 dives total during the trip, including 3 night dives and I did all 14 dives. We met a bunch of great people on the boat and were fed extremely well 5 times a day. It was some of the best diving I have ever done and I am strongly considering another trip near the end of my travels, contingent upon funds. The total cost of the trip was $508 and that includes everything (park fees, accommodation, meals, snacks, water, electrolyte beverages, and gear). We got a 10% discount because we have professional certifications, but it still would've been a fantastic deal at full price. I love SE Asia!!

After the boat trip we had plans to meet up with several other travelers we've met along the way at the Full Moon Party on Haad Rin Beach on Koh Phang-nan (an island in the Gulf of Thailand). We managed to persuade two of the guys we met on the boat, a Canadian (Jedd) and a German (Nico), to come with us. An estimated 15,000 were to attend the Full Moon Party, so we decided to stay on a nearby island (Koh Samui) where rooms are a little cheaper and guaranteed on short notice. We met up with Ashleigh, an American girl we met in Laos, on Koh Samui and the 5 of us took a ferry to the Full Moon party with a few other folks from our guesthouse. At the party, we also met up with an English girl we'd met in Laos and 2 Swedish girls Lauren and Ashleigh had met in Thailand. It was great fun and I danced all night. There were definitely thousands of people there, and we managed to stay together until about 2A when most of us lost each other. Luckily, everyone made it back safely to the ferry dock. The party was craziness and I'm not sure I would recommend it, but it is an experience . . .

Tomorrow, Jedd, Nico, and I are heading slightly north and west to Ranong, where Nico will part ways and Jedd and I will do a border run to Burma before meeting up again with Lauren and Ashleigh in Krabi, a beach town near the southern border of Thailand. Burma is pretty unstable at the moment, but border runs are generally safe (and very common) and both of us are curious to see what it's like over there. Anyway, I've now spent FOUR hours on the internet today (and you thought it took a long time to read this), so I'm gonna go get some air. I hope you are all doing well. Here are the links to the photos from the dive trip:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2679537&id=8369089&l=b77c2

and

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2679539&id=8369089&l=6fb43

Sierra

Leaving Laos

sierrayla-1 — Sat, 31 Jan 2009 20:27:00 GMT

Hello everyone,

Time just flies by and it seems it's been nearly a month since I last wrote! When I last left you I was awaiting a 24 - 30 hr. bus from Hanoi, Vietnam to Vientiane, Laos (It's pronounced Lao by the way - the "s" is silent). We'd heard horror stories such as drivers demanding more money or kicking you off and people sitting in plastic seats in the aisle for the duration of the ride. So we were expecting it to be bad. On arrival at the bus station we were horrified (though prepared) to see our bus - a local bus with metal seats and less than an inch of padding. So we all (about 15 of us) got on the bus and settled in for the long ride. Just one minute into the ride a Vietnamese guy comes around asking for money for the bus. We all showed him our tickets and chaos and confusion ensued. With the language barrier, we weren't sure if the guy was trying to scam us or trying to tell us we were on the wrong bus. Eventually, someone asked the driver. Apparently, all 15 of us had gotten onto the wrong bus! We were on a local Hanoi bus, so we all had to get off with all our bags and cross the street to catch another local bus back to the station. The problem was none of us knew where we needed to be dropped off cause a van had taken us to the station the first time. Eventually we got it sorted out and caught a bus back. When we arrived, our real bus was awaiting us - a (relatively) comfortable bus with reclining seats and under-bus storage for luggage. The seat next to mine didn't recline so no one sat there and I got two seats to myself. Phew! It turned out to be a fairly comfortable and uneventful ride. It took us 20 1/2 hours to get to Vientiane. No one ever admitted to be the first to get on the local bus in Hanoi.

Anyway Vientiane is nice with lovely sunsets on the Mekong, but the sex industry is startlingly flourishing here. "Ladyboys" and prostitutes run amuk with Western men everywhere you go. Needless to say, I was happy to get out of there and get to Vang Vieng, the tubing capital of the world. Vang Vieng is an extremely unique place. First I'll explain the tubing. Basically, you can rent a tube and are dropped off 4 km up the road where you enter the water near the first of about 15 bars. You can start by grabbing a Mojito at the "Mojito Bar," a nonprofit bar that benefits children and local schools. Then you head to the next bar, and the next, and the next . . . Each bar has a platform on the river and there is dancing and various other water activities, including swings, zip lines, springboards, and a huge water slide. It's a truly unique experience and I really enjoyed it (although I stayed away from the swings over 20 ft high). When you're not tubing the river, you can grab a sandwich or pancake at any one of the tens of road stands in town, or you can scope out a restaurant to watch, Friends, The Simpsons, Family Guy, or a movie. Everyone says you get stuck in Vang Vieng, but we didn't believe them. Both times I went there, I stayed two days longer than I had planned.

I really wanted to do a couple of treks in Laos, but Lauren wasn't that interested, so after (the first trip to) Vang Vieng, we headed up to Luang Prabang where I found Matt, a South African who also wanted to go trekking. Luang Prabang is known for it's temples and fantastic night market where they sell all sorts of wares and souvenirs, so I spent a few days there before saying goodbye to Lauren for the time being and Matt and I went on a 3-day hilltribe trek. It was pretty amazing (see the pics). The first night we stayed with a family in their home. There was no toilet in the village, so we had to use the jungle. Hilltribe life is indescribably different from ours and it was so interesting to see (and good to get some exercise). On our second night we stayed with a family in another village in a separate building on their compound. After dinner our guide, Khampha, gathered all the children in the village (around 30) and they stood around our table and sang us songs. It was so beautiful I was nearly in tears. Afterward, we played with the children until it was their bedtime. In the morning I woke up and sat by the fire with the family. They were roasting rats for their breakfast (we had baguettes and cheese, thankfully) and had given a two year old a rat head. She was happily sucking on it, digging brain out with her finger every now and then and savoring every bite. We finished our trek that day and took a day in Luang Prabang to do laundry and rest.

Once recuperated, Matt and I headed up to Luang Nam Tha to go on another 3-day trek. This trek was much harder than the first and I relished it. The first night was strange. We stayed in a tiny village with no shop and no beer to celebrate Obama's inauguration (it was Jan 20). We also arrived there at 1:30 in the afternoon and our guides went right to bed (one was suffering from a hangover since we had booked our trek at 9P the night before), so we were thoroughly bored for many hours before heading for bed. The rest of the trek was fantastic though. We arrived at the next village around 4P, after a grueling and long day of trekking, to find it overflowing with welcoming locals and Beer Lao. We spent most of the rest of our time there playing with the children and having a generally good time. One of the three chiefs of the village came to talk to us and turned out to be a woman! She answered our many questions about hilltribe life and showed us the book of her people's history. It dated back to her grandfather (she was probably a great grandmother herself) and was written in Chinese (they're very close to the border there).

The day after our trek, we began working our way back down to Vientiane, stopping again in Luang Prabang to take advantage of the night market. The ride from Luang Nam Tha to Luang Prabang is also a grueling 9 hour bumpy and curvy ride and you need a break after that! Lonely Planet advises you to carry extra water and snacks on bus travel in Laos because flat tires are common. They weren't kidding!! We got a flat on our way back down to Luang Prabang and then again on our way back to Vang Vieng! We stayed 4 nights more in Vang Vieng (although we'd intended to stay 2) and met dozens of people. Vang Vieng is probably one of the best places in SE Asia to meet people outside the beaches of Thailand. It's just a very social setting and I think that's the draw of it.

After our second trip to Vang Vieng, Matt and I headed back to Vientiane (and got another flat tire along the way) to catch a train to Bangkok and so I could get a visa for Thailand. They used to allow you a free 30-day stay on arrival, but they've changed the rules for land borders, so now you only get 15 days. So I went to the Thai Embassy on Thursday to try to get a visa and agreed to pay a tuk tuk driver 60,000 kip roundtrip (about $7), but when we got there, there were 150 people in line, so he left me there and made me pay 30,000. So I wait for 1 1/2 hours and then they tell me I need more pages in my passport because all of mine are full (they had given me 8 new pages at the Laos border, but those are apparently only for Laos visas [in case I want to visit 7 more times]) and they won't do it there. So I barter with another tuk tuk driver to take me to the US Embassy for 30,000 kip return, but when I get there they say they can't help me until 1P and the Thai Embassy doesn't take applications after noon AND they're not open on Sat, so there's no point in going Friday cause I wouldn't get it back until Mon (I need to be in Thailand by then). So then I tell the tuk tuk driver I'm not going back and offer him 15,000, but he wants 20,000. In the end though, I got him to give it to me for 15,000. Matt was in our room sleeping the whole time cause there wasn't really a reason for him to come, so it wasn't the best day. Later, after getting pages in my passport (which turned out to be obnoxiously fast and easy), I blew out my flip flop. Then I find out all the trains are full because they just celebrated Chinese New Year here and everyone is on their way home. So we'll be on an overnight bus. So travelling isn't all fun and games. In fact, it's a lot of work (not to mention putting up with constantly getting ripped off, using squat toilets, pulling mysterious items out of your food and continuing to eat it, having to haggle for every item or ride, enduring tens of 12 + hour bus rides in seats that were built for 1/2 hour bus rides for very small Asian people, etc.), but it's worth it to me. However, at the moment I need a vacation from my travels, so I meet up with Lauren again tomorrow and on Feb 3rd I'll be heading out on a 4-day 14-dive cruise in the Similan Islands on the Andaman side of Thailand. However, the first two weeks in Laos were ridiculously cold (dropping down to the low 50s at night) and I wasn't prepared, so I am now recovering from the second of two colds I've received while here, so hopefully my sinuses will be clear by then!

I hope you are all doing well! You can check out my most recent pictures at:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2665620&l=1a250&id=8369089 AND

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2673144&l=aca95&id=8369089

Sierra

On to Laos

sierrayla-1 — Sun, 4 Jan 2009 20:21:00 GMT

Hello all,

I'm sitting in a Backpackers in Hanoi where I await a 24-30 hour seated bus nto Vientiane, Laos. We hear it's not a fun ride and I'm not looking forward to it, but it's $14, whereas the flight is $130, so we figured it might at least be an interesting adventure. After Saigon, we headed to Dalat, a village in the beautiful mountains of Vietnam. While there, we went on a one day trek to the summit of Luang Bang. Our guide, Paul, was of the Lat people and serenaded us with renditions from the artists such as the Eagles, Beatles, and Bob Marley. After the trek (which was very steep, but worth the hike), Paul took us back to his family's house where they were celebrating a "small" wedding that had ocurred that morning (apparently there is also a big one in a couple weeks). When we first walked in, I thought they were smoking out of a hookah, but on closer inspection it turned out to be a big clay pot full of rice wine. There was a long flexible tube that reached from the very bottom, extending out of the top from which you drank. They encouraged us to drink . . .and drink . . . and drink. It seemed as though they were trying to get us drunk. Finally we said our goodbyes and stumbled back to our van. Next the driver dropped us off at "Crazy House," a hotel with strange rooms situated in somewhat of a maze. We had no idea this was part of our tour and found it amusing that they had tube fed us rice wine and then dropped us off here. We also hopped on a cable car in Da Lat and had no idea where it led until we got there. It was a beautiful sort of Buddhist retreat overlooking a lake.

Dalat was beautiful, but dropped into the low 60's/high 50's at night and we wanted a hot Christmas on the beach. So we headed back to the coast to a place called Mui Ne. It's a good place to learn to kite surf, but at a stiff $300, we decided to pass for now and spent most of our time lounging in the hammocks and beach chairs. We had Christmas dinner with 35 "friends" and had a great night out afterward. We met lots of great people in Mui Ne, but we had stayed 5 nights and it was time to move on. Next we took an 18 hr journey to Hoi An (all on comfy sleeper buses). There's not much to do in Hoi An other than to get clothing Taylor-made. I hadn't planned on getting anything, but was so impressed with the things they could make, I ended up spending $52 on a pair of cargo pants, a bathing suit top, a summer dress, and a pretty shirt. It's addicting though and there were stores everywhere, so it was a good thing we were only staying for one day. While we were there the Vietnamese won a football (soccor) match against the Thais and the streets were packed full of people celebrating. It was madness! See the pictures. We left Hoi An for Hanoi with a 6 hour stopover in Hue (the old dividing line between the north and the south). The only thing to do in Hue is to tour the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone), but we heard that was a 9 1/2 hr day with 9 of those hours spent on the bus, so we skipped it. I'm sure the town was nice along the river, but it was pouring rain and cold the whole time we were there, so we didn't explore much.

Our ride from Hue to Hanoi was 13 hours and on the most uncomfortable sleeping bus with very rude drivers. It wasn't fun. When we arrived in Hanoi, we had to negotiate a taxi into town and found one for 75,000 VND ($4). We shared the taxi with a Chinese girl, so it was 25,000 VND each. On the way, we decided we wanted to go to a location that was on the way to the one we had negotiated. The driver tried to charge us more money, but we refused. When we got to our destination, he wouldn't open the trunk until we paid him and we wouldn't pay him until he opened the trunk. So Lauren went to the driver's seat and popped the trunk. He immediately slammed it back down, so Lauren went to do it again. This time he followed her, so I flung the trunk open and put myself part of the way in so he couldn't close it again. The Chinese girl then helped pull our bags out, we paid him the 75,000 VND and were on our way.

We only spent a day in Hanoi and booked a 2 night/3 day cruise through Ha Long Bay for New Year's Eve. The trip was fun. It was nothing like we were told it would be and was extremely disorganized, but we had great company. No one seemed to have any idea what was on the itinerary, but we shad lunch when we got on the boat and then cruised to a cave and went through it. Then we cruised to Cat Ba Island where we spent NYE in a hotel. We had a good night though, starting out at a small bar near our hotel, drinling 36 cent pints of beer - not bad actually. Then about 13 of us headed for town and brought in the New Year at Sunrise Hotel. I spent the whole night trying to get the DJ to play "Rock the Casbah" (as in "Rock the Cat Ba) by the Clash to no avail. It was a really fun night. The next day we checked out the island, then cruised around the Bay, went kayaking and slept on the boat that night. The rooms were actually pretty nice, but we didn't sleep very well for some reason. The next day we cruised around some more and then had lunch in Ha Long city before heading back to Hanoi. We were late leaving Hanoi because an Australian family on the cruise was "cross" about the cruise because it was nothing like we were promised, so they found the guy who sold them the tour and took him to the police. They had also paid for the "Deluxe tour," but had the same exact tour as the rest of us who'd paid for the Standard tour. They were still at the police station when we left so we don't know what happened. We spent the last couple of days wandering around Hanoi and visiting the "Hanoi Hilton" where John McCain was kept as a POW during the war. And in about an hour, we hop on our bus to Laos. So I have to run and get some food. Wish me luck and I'll talk to you all soon. Here are the links to my most recent photos:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2645685&l=a428f&id=8369089

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2651346&l=294b3&id=8369089

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2656182&l=a3bd9&id=8369089

Sierra

Vietnam

sierrayla-1 — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 20:32:00 GMT

I'm writing from Ho Chi Minh City (still known as Saigon to those who live here). When I last left you all, I was in Rach Gia, waiting for my ferry to Phu Quoc Island. Phu Quoc was awesome. It was supposedly "high season," but the beaches were nearly empty and the three of shared a room near the beach for $6/night/person. The water was a beautiful sapphire blue although visibility was only around 5-7m. While there, we relaxed on the beach and went for a dive trip one day which included 2 dives. It wasn't the best diving in the world, but it was nice to get back under the water. I also went swimming nearly every day, and rented a bike to go to the center of the island (up lots of hills I was to learn) to hike to a nice little waterfall.

After Phu Quoc, we headed to Can Tho, a city of 2 million in the Mekong Delta. By the way, the bus drivers here are crazy (you've got nothing on these guys Brett - sorry :-) and we were very relieved to step off the bus. In Can Tho, I took an 8 hour tour of the Mekong by long-tailed boat. The Mekong Delta is a vast network of tributaries and man-made canals and is an impressive waterway. We visited a couple of floating markets, which was great fun. Hoards of people were out in the boats selling mostly fruits and vegetables (my kind of market). Most of the boats had dogs on them as well and just as I was wondering where they go to the bathroom, I saw a dog squat on the deck to relieve itself. Needless to say, I didn't buy anything from a boat with a dog on it. There are millions of shacks, houses, businesses and roads lining the Mekong and one wonders what it may have been like before man was established here.

Although I could have spent much more time in the Mekong, our visa expires Jan 5 and we have a lot to cover, so on to Saigon we went. Saigon is the old capital of the south (Hanoi is the official Vietnam capital now). It's a huge sprawling city (pop. 5.5 million) and supposedly there are more motorbikes than people here. I hope to get a picture of the madness before I leave, but we've heard stories from other travelers of cameras being snatched right out of peoples' hands in the middle of the photo! So, we'll see.

Aside from the craziness and comforts of a big city, travelers come here to visit the War Remnants Museum, Reunification Palace, and Cu Chi tunnel system. The War Remnants Museum is a collection of photos demonstrating the atrocities committed by Americans. It was a little one-sided, but I guess that's what one should expect in a Communist country. The Reunification Palace was taken by the north on April 30, 1975, signifying the reunification of Vietnam and the end of the war.

The Cu Chi tunnel system is a vast 3-level network of underground tunnels, leading to hundreds of large rooms where the people of Cu Chi lived during the French occupation and the "anti-American War" (as they call it here). It is located at the gateway to Saigon and the Americans, with all their tanks and bombs, were never able to infiltrate it. Many died trying. Before, they show you the tunnels, they show you a documentary that I found a little disturbing. It described how proud they were of killing many Americans and those who killed the most were awarded metals as "American-killing hero." Afterward, while touring the tunnels, we were shown the various homemade weaponry used to capture and kill Americans. All were designed to cause a lot of pain and a slow death and all had various metal spikes or sharpened bamboo. They were pretty gruesome. Although both sides are guilty of unspeakable atrocities during the war, it breaks my heart to see what our soldiers went through here, only to be spat on, denigrated, and altogether ignored by the government that sent them to war in the first place, when they returned home.
Anyway, as you can imagine, Vietnam is pretty intense and we'll be learning more as we head north. But for the next few days, we'll take a break and head to the mountains of Dalat for a trek and then to the beach for Christmas. I hope you're all doing well. I should have more pictures posted on Facebook pretty soon if you're interested (I gave up on posting them here as it takes way too long).

Sierra