first impressions of japan.

This post has to be brief as I have to get up super early tomorrow and my aunt is asleep and I don't want to risk waking her. Here is a list of first thoughts (and in some cases questions) on Japan that I've been keeping. I will explain and get into more detail later, I promise!

1. How many Japanese school girls can you fit into an elevator?
2. How many times can said Japanese girls apologize for fitting themselves into said elevator?
3. Vending machines. For everything. Literally. Even ties.
4. Well-dressed men. On bikes! In suits! Holding umbrellas! Asian Don Drapers everywhere!
5. CLEAN.
6. Everyone & everything has a purpose. If he/she/it doesn't, he/she/it is not real. Or should be destroyed. By Godzilla.
7. FOOD. OMG. SO. GOOD.
8. Quiet, soft spoken, polite.
9. Awesome trains.
10. Everything in moderation.
11. Gardens & parks = A-MAZING.
12. Simple & elegant aesthetics.

Like I said, I'll get into more detail later. PROMISE. Trust me, I am dying to write about and share Japan with you! I've only been here a day and a half and I'm already in love!!! (Once again, sorry, Alex. At least it's a country?)

Infinitelove. From JAPAN.

if i hug you,

will you stay together or dissolve into molecules?

For some reason, I've been mulling over this thought from the lovely film Before Sunset by Richard Linklater. I like this film a lot. I like how it changes on you with each viewing. The more I watch it & the older I get, the more I find in it & the more I appreciate it. It's not meant for those who favor action-drama-KABLAMO-special-effects-whoooooa movies. It's a simple film, of minimal editing & cutting, of an 80 minute conversation between two people in Paris as they ramble physically and conversationally.

As a visual person, I first tried to imagine what dissolving into molecules would look like. I imagined a photograph developing in reverse, with the picture fading quietly to white. Except not a photograph, but the real physical thing. & not to white, but to blend into the atmosphere, mingling with the fog and other vapors & elements that dance up there (I'd like to think they're all waltzing). I suppose dissolving into molecules is to depart from the physicality of life. Not to necessarily die, though. Just to mentally stray away from the realm of the five senses, to instead exist in the intangible, the ethereal-- thoughts, ideas, emotions. In some ways, I find this existence more terrifying than physical life. There are no distractions or buffers. It's just you. Plain, honest, you. Not that we should be afraid of who we are but as your own worst critic, it can be tough, sometimes dangerous, being alone with your thoughts and emotions. You can stress, delude, over-analyze, nitpick, etc. and no one will stop you. But there is also the happier flip side as well- you can take a break from the complexities & annoyances of daily life.

The staying together part, that's simpler to define. You remain present, grounded in the physical. You are in and aware of your body and the physical world around you.

So, putting these all together- if I hug you will you stay together or dissolve into molecules?

fireworks in the rain.

The celebratory occasion is still unknown. I was on a rainy evening walk when all of a sudden booms & crackles, well, boomed & crackled, echoing off buildings. Everything around me lit up in a reddish glow and I could see sparks reflected in puddles. I looked up, wishing eyeglasses had the equivalent of window wipers, just in time to see the fading streaks of a firework. Several more followed and I watched transfixed. I then started wondering at the general human fascination with fireworks. Everyone loves them! Children go crazy, and adults admire them just as much (they're just not as expressive or scream-y about it). I watched the sky happily. The warm night, rain aside, could have fooled me into thinking it was the Fourth of July.

Today was a lazy but somehow productive day. I got my Japan rail pass (which was almost $200 more than I had budgeted for- GUH. Yea. There's no way I'm going to South Korea anymore. Womp.), booked almost all of my hostels for Thailand (thank god they're all cheap!), figured out a general plan for Bangkok & Chiang Mai, applied for more jobs, ate awesome avocado (nerd alert: ALLITERATION!) icecream (I wanted to type "acecream" but that sounded like an ointment for athlete's foot or something), discovered the most delicious hopia cart, etc. I also now have a gym buddy! We were running on treadmills next to each other when one of my headphones slipped out of my sexy, sweaty ears and New Order came blaring out. Not wanting to trip on the loose bud, I grabbed it quickly and we continued to run, ignoring each other, pretending I wasn't clumsy and my ears weren't sweaty. As I got ready to leave later, he paused his tread mill and said he loved New Order. !!!!!!!!!! So I now have a new friend from the 14th floor!

I miss cold weather. Even though I hail from California, the reputed warm sunshine state of perpetual summer, I love cold weather. The ability to feel and get cozy is such a lovely thing. And you can't do that in Southeast Asia, ever. Unless you blast your AC, I guess. Or get creative with a freezer. I miss burrowing under layers of blankets, wishing I could hibernate instead of going to class. And warm drinks in mugs! And baking cookies! And, as I've mentioned way too many times, apple pie. Ohhh man. First thing I'm doing when I get back to the states (after getting In 'N Out Burger. So I guess it's technically the second thing I'm doing?) is eating apple pie. An entire apple pie. It will be glorious.

I leave for Japan tomorrow! So. Excited. X infinity. Reasons:
1. It will be cold there! I was so gleeful while folding & packing my sweaters, cardigans, leggings... AND MY RIDICULOUS PANDA HAT. I bought it in China and have been waiting for a chance to use it! The time has come! Yes forever with moustaches!
2. The food! Sushi. Noodles. Rice. Fish. Haiiiiiiii!
3. The Studio Ghibli Musuem! Hayao Miyazaki is an amazing man, animator and brain. His animated features are beautiful (eg. Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away) & adorable (eg. Ponyo), and I've heard the museum reflects just that. And there's a GIANT TOTORO. (The girl in this photo will be me, SO SOON.)
4. It's Japan... Don't really need any other reasons than that.

But, okay. Time to attempt to sleep.

P.S. While in the Landmark grocery store today, they started playing "The Final Countdown." While this was hilarious on its own, a guy behind the fish counter started wailing on an air-guitar. Fish-counter-guy, you rule.

i wonder what jelly fish dream about.

Music usually swings and swirls my thoughts around based on the song. So, while listening to Neon Indian on my evening walk, that was what my brain chewed on-- the dreams of jelly fish. I feel like this is something I could talk with Michel Gondry about for hours, a conversation that would promptly be followed by some sort of arts and crafts session. Man. That would be awesome. (And by the way, I think that whatever they dream about, it would look like a Murakami piece.)

So, I've pretty much hit the halfway point of my trip, which, among other things, is RIDICULOUS. I've been living in Southeast Asia for a month and a half. A month. And a half. That doesn't seem very long, and I suppose in the grand scheme of things it really isn't, but it feels long to me. I've gotten used to living here. I am comfortable & happy, and living with my aunt & cousin (they are so awesome- I'll write more about them later) has been great. But there's always a nagging feeling in the back of my head reminding me that this isn't home, that I'm a foreigner here. This nagging isn't bad, necessarily. It makes me homesick sometimes, but ultimately I'd like to think that it reminds me to continue to look at & experience everything with the same wide-eyed wonder & unfamiliarity that I had when I first landed in the Philippines in September.

I've settled into a sort of routine here. Chatting with my aunt over breakfast & tea. Internet-ing with loved ones. Yoga. Running. Getting fruit at the nearby market. Reading at a local coffee shop. Eating a banana in between each of the previously mentioned activities. Etc., etc. Routines always help me settle into new environments. Not that I always need a schedule to function. It's just helpful and calming to anchor myself into some type of structure, especially after floating around in transitional spaces & times.

My relationships with people have been changing a lot since I've been away. This was expected, but how they've changed has been largely unexpected. Some have, unfortunately, fallen into dusty neglect; some have hit the pause button and will resume when I get back to the states; others have surprisingly strengthened; and there those that have pretty much stayed the same, with Skype conversations over coffee, pretending to have the usual catch-up chat at Pete's (there's your shout out, Scott!). It's interesting how these relationships change when distance is introduced. Even with the capabilities of the internet, I think the physical distance becomes a mental distance as well, making communication difficult even when outlets for it are ever-present and ever-accessible. I wonder why that is though...

I can't imagine what long distance correspondence and relationships were like before modern conveniences. As romantic and lovely as I find handwritten letters, my proneness to homesickness would make them so unsatisfying as a sole means of communication. Perhaps it's because I'm a child of this generation or because I get so awfully attached to people, but I need more than just handwriting and narrative voice. God bless Skype and Gmail. Really. (They are in no way affiliated with me; I just love them.) Even if the audio lags, making the video look like a poorly dubbed film, video chatting is so lovely. I always feel a bit sad once I hang up, but that feeling is always very quickly replaced by a deep appreciation for who I just talked to and the fact that I was able to.

Yea. I'm just tiredly rambling. I'm going to go to bed now. G'night, world!

10 things i will never/will now complain about.

The things that I will never complain about in the States. Ever again.
1. Awful roads/traffic/driving/etc. Vietnam.
2. Bugs/cleanliness. I don't scream when I see roaches anymore! My heart just pounds and I want to cry a little... But no screaming! & I can KILL THEM.
3. Bad/weak beer. Asia has beers? (But Red Horse & San Miguel are okay.)
4. Long lines. After the World Expo, I can wait in ANY line. Just try me. Midnight showing of HP7? On it. Justin Biebz show with screaming 11 year olds? Totally. Shake Shack at lunch time on the most beautiful day EVER. Bring it.
5. Hot & humid/rainy & stormy weather. Southeast Asia during typhoon season. Try it some time. It's a doozy!

The things that I will now complain about in the States. But I will try not to.
1. High prices. Whine whine whine this was 30 cents in Asia whine whine.
2. Inferior quality of Asian food. Well, duh.
3. Lack of nature/gardens/parks. I'll go sit and read under the lovely shade of that... skyscraper?
4. Working instead of traveling. Cubicles < boat rides in an underground river.
5. Lack of visible culture/historical buildings. I guess we have McDonalds?

the world needs a lot of love.

I will admit that I've never been particularly good with keeping up with the news. As a student from the United States with more opportunities and access to information than Starbuck's locations in New York City or motorcycles in Vietnam, this is a terrible admittance and I really do feel ashamed. The usual defense (from the Western perspective) is that it's so easy to get caught up in the busyness of one's life. It's yours and it's right there, whereas the lives of others are far away from you-- out of sight, out of mind. However, it cannot be ignored that your daily life now includes the lovely and ever-connecting internet. People obsessively update Facebook or Twitter, check emails and sport scores, carry around their smart phones and absurdly small laptops- we can be and are constantly plugged in. And it's so, so, SO easy to open just one additional window and type in www.nytimes.com or www.bbc.co.uk. (The URLs are even shorter than your average status update!) In this digital age, there is no legitimate excuse for ignorance.

Since coming to Southeast Asia, I've been actively trying to be better informed and more aware. I've added watching the BBC and reading the New York Times online to my morning routine, right in between finishing my tea and getting dressed. And I always try to pick up a local English language paper in the cities that I visit. (It's very interesting to read the news from varying points of view, especially when it's about the United States. We're really not liked too much over here...) After a couple weeks of this, though, I can understand why it's easier to ignore world news. To put it plainly, it's sad. It's depressing. I wouldn't be surprised if more than 80% of reported news was bad or sad in content. For instance, while watching the BBC this morning, the main headlines, which prompted me to write this post in the first place, were about the cholera outbreak in Haiti and Typhoon Megi in the Philippines (among other stories).

When will Haiti get a break? Still recovering from the destructive earthquake from earlier this year, Haiti has enough problems to deal with. The country's infrastructure is still mess, with less than 10% of the rubble cleared and most of the population still homeless. Archbishop Bernard Auza, a Nuncio (a representative of the pope) based in Haiti, observed at the end of September, "The humanitarian situation is still in an emergency phase. Over 1 million refugees are living in tents and the number is on the rise" (Agenzia Fides). Living conditions in the camps are dismal and basic needs are barely met, if they even are at all. Access to clean water, proper sewage disposal, electricity and other necessities is extremely rare, while crime, sickness and death become much more common. And this month, cholera struck, for the first time in a century in the Caribbean. I mean, seriously? This isn't just kicking someone when they're down. This is tying them up with barbed wire, leaving them out in the desert for a month without water and under a heat lamp, putting them in car to be driven off a cliff (seatbelt-less naturally), and then kicking them. Almost 200 people have died already, and 2,634 have been hospitalized, with that number rising steadily (BBC). Still crippled by the earthquake, Haiti is not prepared for this. But they are trying their best to fight it. As of now, cases are largely concentrated in Douin, Marchand Dessalines and Saint-Marc, and clinics and hospitals are doing all that they can to prevent it from affecting other areas, especially the refugee camps. I can't even begin to imagine the chaos that would ensue if it broke out there... For now, let us hope that it can be contained, that more supplies will arrive to the affected areas quickly, that measures will be taken to purify the water supply, and that the Haitians will continue to be strong.

And then there's Megi. The Philippine Islands, and Southeast Asia for that matter, are no strangers to typhoons. At all. Talking to my aunt in the car last night, she spoke of past storms and typhoon seasons almost nonchalantly. "They happen," she said. "It's just a part of life here." That may be the case, but it doesn't make the situation better. Typhoon Megi was, and still is (it's on a route to China and heading north), reportedly one of the worst storms to hit. It hit the norther region of Luzon on Monday, leaving disaster and destruction in its wake. About 200,000 Filipinos are homeless, roads are torn apart, crops have been destroyed, and along with them the livelihoods of the poor farmers that owned them. There is still no estimate on how much infrastructural damage has been done. But! The number of deaths reported is low (11), especially in comparison to the 1000 reported during a typhoon of comparable magnitude in 2006 (BBC). It is clear that the Filipinos have learned from past disasters and they took great precautions and preparations when faced with Megi. Still, my heart aches for the farmers that were affected. My aunt told me that land and farm insurance doesn't really exist here, which means that the poor families that were struck by Megi not only lost their homes but their livelihoods and means of survival. These people poured months and months of what little money they have and strenuous work into these fields, only to have them washed away by the rains and winds. What are they to do now?

And so, I understand why it's easier to ignore the world sometimes, to stay within the safer realms of your own life, complaining about stand still traffic or expensive plane tickets to South Korea (my current whine topic). Such problems (although there are definitely others where this is not the case, and I mean not to belittle those by speaking generally) are easier to handle than fatal diseases or destructive typhoons. But, ultimately, it's important to acknowledge them and to know them. The people affected may be physically far and their problems beyond understanding or relating, but they're still people. And if you have the means of reading or learning about them, you should. If not for the sake of acknowledging their suffering and exercising compassion, or seeking in their stories the thread of human perseverance and determination, then to at least put your life into perspective to see that things may be bad but they could always be worse.

But yea. The world needs a lot of love right now. Infinitelove.

favorite things to do while traveling.

1. Visit local markets and grocery stores. Note the peculiarities, the differences. Observe the daily life bustle. Sample foods. Talk/listen to vendors. Barter like it's my job. Take too many photos of seemingly mundane things.

2. Send postcards and write them in parks or cafes. Carefully choose images to reflect the recipients. Take too much time doing that. Ideally write in a scenic spot/next to a window. At least 5. Remember to say "I love you and I miss you." Hug them before posting.

3. Sample the best dessert in the city/country! Ask a local what the best dessert is and where to find it. Find it. Eat it. Love it. Repeat. A lot.

4. Hang out with locals. Ask them to teach me how to say things in their language. Ask them about their daily lives. Ask them what they like best about where they live. Just ask them.

5. Compare and contrast the city & countryside. Admire the transition. Note the changes in scenery. Note the differences in pace, people, colors, life. Fall in love with the country. Avoid mosquitoes.

god bless green tea!

So my fragile stomach has fallen prey again (for the third time) to the mysterious foreign germs and bacteria in Southeast Asia. I remember a conversation I had with my aunt and her friend that ended with them making fun of me and my poor tummy, and how we've been coddled and pampered with clean and washed food in the United States. Ah well. At least I have green tea to nurse me back to health as well as a week to recover before my next destination (JAPAN!).

So, I spent my last day in Palawan wandering around the city area, this time rested and not in a zombie-like daze. It rained on and off, which I didn't mind very much and preferred in the end over what would have otherwise been a very hot and humid day. I visited the local market. It was small & packed, with every little gap, including areas under staircases, occupied by vendors. They sold vegetables & fruits; grains, rice & noodles; spices & sweets; fish, meats and poultry; trinkets & clothing; etc. The walkways between the stalls were narrow, dimly lit by the occasional stray light bulb hanging from above. I stopped to (discreetly) take many pictures, much to the amusement of the locals. What seemed mundane and ordinary to them was fascinating and beautiful to me. They looked on in interest and inspected whatever I took pictures of, and I was happy to invite their curiosity, to have them share my touristic view, however brief and probably misunderstood it may have been.

As much as I loved the sights, I equally loved the sounds. Tagalog, the official language of the Philippines, is a bubbly language. After being surrounded by it for about a month now, I have grown to love it, and I wish I could speak it. It's melodic in its own way and has such a friendly and delighted tone, as if the speaker and the language are laughing together. But this is just my take on it.

I bought some treats from an overflowing stall- a slice of coconut rice pudding cake, & sticky rice wrapped in a banana leaf. Both were delicious and I couldn't believe how cheap they were! The owner smiled at me, saying it was all made fresh that morning. As I left, munching on the sticky rice, I overheard her and a friend trying to guess my ethnicity (I may not be able to speak Tagalog, but I can understand a little bit). I laughed as I walked down the street, my new mission to buy postcards and souvenirs for friends and family.

In my search, I met the most delightful boy. He was in his mid-twenties, smiling, and chatty. He owned a small souvenir shop that sold not your average tourist trinkets but unique and handmade pieces ranging from intricate bracelets to carved wood decorations. Each piece had some sort of connection or origin to the native tribes of Palawan, and the tradition and culture was heavily present. I spent an hour in the shop, looking at the merchandise and talking to the boy, asking him about his life as an independent artist in Palawan. He turned out to be an avid traveler with wanderlust to match that of my sister's. But as much as he loved seeing the world, he knew that Palawan would always be his home. He referred to himself as a tree, with roots set on the island but branches extending to explore the beyond. I liked that. I ended up buying a necklace from him for my friend, as well as some loose beads for my own bracelet/necklace in-progress. From each country and/or city that I visit, I buy a bead or charm. I intend to string them all together to make the ultimate momento of my trip.

I also made friends with folks in a cafe that I stopped in. What was supposed to be a quick cup of joe & a pastry turned into a 2 hour long conversation with the servers and owner. They asked me about the US and my travels, and I asked them about PI and Palawan. I'd read a lot about the history of the country and the island, but I learned so much more from these locals. Eunice, the owner, was a sweetheart and gave me free refills and free samplings of her cakes and pies. They were all delicious, especially the blueberry cheesecake and the cassava cake! One of the servers shyly asked if I had a boyfriend. I showed them a photo of Alex and they all exclaimed, "Oh! Justin Bieber!" Sorry, Alex.

Later that night, I went on a night photo shoot. The beams emitted from lampposts and passing vehicles (no cars- only motorcycles and tricycles, a type of motorcycle taxi, are allowed in the main city area) populated the otherwise empty streets with shadows. I like this time of day. While taking photos, I met a young Filipino named Edwin. He and I ended up chatting over a pitcher of Red Horse (which he paid for! Woo!) at the only 24 hour bar in Puerto Princesa, which was hidden behind a hardware store and down an alley. I never would have seen it if he hadn't pointed it out. Red Horse is the cheap, strong beer here and very popular. Not knowing that it was Red Horse at the time, I drank my share of the pitcher without a care, assuming it was the usual weak, Asian brew. So I was very surprised when I found myself drunk at the bar. I realized it when Edwin compared Alex's photo to Justin Bieber (again!). I laughed so hard (sorry, Alex, again) and couldn't stop! Edwin, who was clearly confused at how hard I was laughing, laughed along with me out of politeness before shifting the subject to music (he loves heavy metal, rock and Taylor Swift) and then to his miserable love life (he met a girl from Oregon who looked just like Sandra Bullock, incidentally his favorite actress, but he lost her contact info to the wind. Literally. The precious piece of paper was blown out of his hands). Overall, a nice guy and he even walked me home like a gentleman.

The next morning, I got up early to say my goodbyes to the ocean and then boarded my plane back to Manila. It was a really great trip and I suggest Palawan to anyone that travels in Southeast Asia! Not only are the sights amazing and the food delicious, but the people are so friendly and engaging!

island hopping!

So, I just got back from a brief trip to Palawan, an island located southwest of Luzon, the main island of Philippines. And it was awesome!

Palawan is largely undeveloped and still has a very strong cultural identity. From the traditional life styles of the peoples, to the expanses of untouched flora & fauna, the island guards its natural beauty & history from the corruption and complications of western life. This was apparent to me the moment I stepped off the plane. I stepped into a wall of warm and humid sunshine, and I squinted out at the ocean, which was blinding in the afternoon sun. Then I wondered why the hell I chose to wear jeans in island paradise. (Later, when I put on shorts, I remembered why: mosquitoes.)

My hotel was lovely. I walked to the reception desk to a chorus of, "Hello Mam!", "How are you Mam?", "Can I help you Mam?" and other such variations. I always associate "Mam" with lady cops (I have no idea why) and I'm really not accustomed to so much fawning attention. It was... weird? Unnerving? Later, it got to the point where I'd actually race to my room to avoid hearing any greetings or questions of assistance followed by Mam. Silly I know, but it's weird.

Anyway, unlike the gorgeous & lovely Sunday, I was a not-gorgeous and not-lovely zombie. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and was paying the price. But I sucked it up, downed two cups of coffee, which for my caffeine-sensitive system is enough for a month of wakefulness for your average person, and went exploring. I walked along the main road and then wandered in the smaller side streets seeking shade (Nerd alert: alliteration!). I was walking in a ghost town, which was initially a bit alarming but then I remembered that 1. it was Sunday and 2. it was the Philippines. Sure enough, when I walked to the main church, I found most of the city crammed into its pews and overflowing into the surrounding yard area. I like church in the Philippines. It's more of a happy celebration than a solemn, sullen ceremony.

I also walked along the ocean. As a non-swimmer, it really doesn't make sense that I love the ocean so much, but I do and always have. The water was so clear and I could see through it to the bottom. It being a Sunday afternoon, I didn't expect to see any fishing boats out at work and sure enough they were all anchored at the pier down the way, swaying and creaking peacefully. As the day turned to night, the pier and the bay started to awake from it's religious quietness, and people started filling the area- shy grade school couples awkwardly holding hands, moms gossiping under umbrellas, families eating packed dinners on rock ledges. I like the life here. It's energetic and lively, but not overly so. It's a peaceful energy, calm and simple and content.

The next day I went with a tour group to the Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park, near the small town of Sabang. The underground river is Palawan's pride and joy. It's currently one of 28 finalists for the "New Seven Wonders of Nature" competition. And for good reason. To get there, we took a 2 hour van ride, which was lovely. I've always loved long car rides, especially on open roads and through country sides. We passed through rice fields and I thought fondly of Vietnam. The houses were quaint and traditionally built of bamboo, elevated on bamboo stilts and windowless, with woven walls and thatched roofs. Laundry lines decorated the front lawns, but with not a lot of drying action, as it had started to rain during the later morning.

We arrived in Sabang at a beach front. Looking through coconut tree trunks & past the many boats resting on the sand, I spied more of that beautiful ocean winking at me. In the distance I could see the outlines of lush, nearby islands, as well as a stormy curtain of rain creeping slowly but surely in our direction. We hopped onto motorboats (literally in my case) and sped off to the National Park. En route, the storm caught up with us. I watched the droplets on the ocean surface and thought it looked like the rain was tickling the ocean, and that the waves and currents were the ocean's ticklish squirms. It got a bit violent at one point and, well, let's just say it was pretty terrifying. But! We finally made it ashore in one piece. I was soaked through and a bit shaken up, but in one piece.

After a brief walk through beach-jungle (I geekily thought of Lost. I can see you shamefully shaking your head at me) we came to the entrance of the underground river. In small rowboats and equipped with a blindingly bright flashlight, hard hats and life vests, we looked pretty sexy. It was pitch black save for our beam of light, which reflected off the water, the limestone formations and the occasional bat. The guide kept cracking jokes about Batman and Robin, averaging about one a minute. I was impressed. I was most impressed, though, by a section of the cave nicknamed The Cathedral. All of a sudden, the low hanging rocks and stalactites gave way to a high dome. Shining the light at the highest peak, the top looked like a rose window or a grand chandelier filling the ceiling, with rock structures and formations reaching up towards it like statues of angels. I'd never seen anything like it (and neither have the bats! Geddit? Geddit??) Visually, it was obvious as to why this area was nicknamed as such, but there was a certain holy and sacred quality to it as well.

We lunched and leisure-ed afterward back on the shores of Sabang. I ate with two very friendly Japanese girls and a Canadian boy who were traveling together. (And this was after being asked to join a group of Filipinos who were also on our tour. I felt like the new girl at school in the lunch cafeteria!) It was amazing though- already, just a day into my visit, I had met more nice people in Palawan than I had during my entire trip in China. Filipinos and people who visit the Philippines, at least the ones that I've met, have all, without exception, been super nice, the nicest, always smiling and laughing and eager to meet you. They're all lovely, lovely people. So lunch was a fun and chatty affair. I spent the rest of our time there walking along the beach. The water was delightfully warm after getting soaked in the freezing rain. Looking south I could see patches of rain once again tickling the ocean. Looking north I could see the sun peeking through gaps in the clouds. I stood at some strange point in between and I admired the transitional gradient of weather and colors.

And I'm getting sleepy. To be continued tomorrow!

these days.

I've been listening to this song by Nico (from the album Chelsea Girls) a lot. It's a beautiful song if you're not familiar with it. It reminds me of New York. I spent a lot of time wandering the city streets while listening to it, the melody making everything seem to move a bit slower. It's been odd to listen to it here. I tend to tie memories, people and places to songs, so listening to These Days has been a strange layering of New York and Asia experiences and sights. It was disorienting and homesick-ening at first, but now it makes me happy. Instead of separating New York memories and Asia from each other, in attempts to compartmentalize and cope with missing people and places, I'm blending them together, carrying my loves with me. I feel more whole now during my travels, which makes sense in a way as the people and places I love are a part of me and who I am.

On my travels, I often hear the question, "What are you looking for?" With a few exceptions, it's your average default question, where the answer isn't genuinely sought after and will probably be forgotten when given. Much like, "What are you doing after college?", another question that I became very familiar with last year. (And still get now, but it's lately transformed to, "What are you doing after college after traveling?") The answer is repeated so often that it becomes a schpeel, and not so much an opening for conversation, once again though with a few exceptions. While walking earlier, I was thinking about this question. And I mean really thinking about it, not just mentally editing and perfecting my schpeel.

The purpose I set for my travels before I left was simple: Learn about the world. Mixed in there was also an expectation to learn about myself, as cheesy and typical as that may sound. Now, I'm coming to realize that what I'm learning is my existence in the world. It is very true that we are affected and influenced by environments and contexts, that they become a part of our identity. So, the more I learn about my environment and context, the more I learn about myself. Right? Does that make sense? It made so much sense in my head while walking, but as usual I'm stumbling over written explanation...

By learning more about the world, I'm learning more about my place in it, my existence in it, how I fit into it, how I contribute to it. Having been in bubbles of school or suburbia before now, I never really thought of my existence beyond a limited radius. But now, thrown into the world and bubble-less for the most part, I'm starting to see the larger picture. It's overwhelming, especially as you also become aware of your own smallness in the grand scheme of things, but I think it's extremely necessary for knowing and more importantly understanding who you are. It shifts your perspective to include the varying worldviews and lives of so many other peoples and cultures. It's from these differences that we learn, I think. When we learn what those differences are, we learn about the world. When we apply those discrepancies to ourselves, we learn about ourselves. I wish I was more articulate or more poetic! But as it is, I can merely ramble and hope that it makes sense...

travel tips pt. 2

I give you "Travel Tips Part 2: The Vietnam Edition"!

1. Ride a motorcycle! Totally necessary! It's a great experience and so much fun to see the cities and sights blur past you, the way most of the population sees Vietnam. Don't accept your first offer for a ride, though. Walk away multiple times and say no. A lot. They'll bring their prices down spectacularly! For a day of driving around, you don't want to pay more than $10-$15.

2. Don't shop in the main tourist areas. The prices there are much higher. If you stick to the smaller streets and smaller markets, you'll get a lot more for your buck! (And bonus: you'll see more local life in action!) For instance, the areas around the Backpacker District in Ho Chi Minh were significantly cheaper than the places near the Central Post Office.

3. Be confident and assertive when crossing the street. If you start to cross the street, you have to keep going. The likelihood of you getting hit by an incoming car or motorcycle is greatly increased by hesitations and pauses while walking. Traffic will move around you based on the path that they predict you will take. So stick to that path!

4. Eat the dragon fruit! Dragon fruit in Vietnam (among other things such as pho and french pastries) is delicious! The best I've ever tasted! Buy it, eat it, stuff your face with it! You'll never taste a better one anywhere else. I promise you.

5. For drinks in Ho Chi Minh, go to the Backpacker District. It's cheap, it's fun, it's lively! There's a strong concentration of travelers and backpackers in the area, thus its name, so you'll meet tons of cool people and have great conversations. All over cheap beer and drinks! And chances are, across the street or right next door, there'll be a small food joint open for late night munchies.

6. Hold onto your bags and walk on the inner part of the sidewalk! Drive-by robberies happen often to tourists, unfortunately. There was a girl in my hostel that was a victim of one, even. Two men on a motorcycle robbed her, snatching her shoulder bag as they drove past. She tried to pursue them but legs vs. an engine on wheels isn't really a fair race...

the mekong delta pwns.

Getting to the Mekong Delta was not as easy to do on my own as I'd thought, so I went on a 2-day tour, which, thankfully, didn't cost much. The morning of my departure, I had a very pleasant breakfast with two women (one from London and the other from Switzerland) and we talked about our travels. They put my little trip to shame- both were planning to travel for a year and were a couple months into their journeys already. I've found that Southeast Asia attracts a very different type of traveler. Not the bro types that eagerly look to get smashed on foreign booze. These Southeast Asia travelers are dedicated, traveling to travel, because they have a genuine interest in learning about and meeting the world. Yea, they'll indulge in some liquid silliness, but it's not a priority. I like these travelers. And I'm so happy to join their ranks.

So, the Mekong Delta. My first interaction with the Delta was a boat ride in My Tho. Because it was flood season, the water level was up 1.5 meters and it was necessary for us to wear bright orange life preservers. As a non-swimmer, I was more than happy to oblige. On the river it was raining but we still saw many fishing and tug boats out, chugging along, hard at work. Men steered with their feet, leaning forward every now and then to yell something to a neighboring boat. The water was a murky brown but the vibrancy of the trees and greenery on the shores more than compensated. It was lovely.

We lunched in a small village and ate under coconut palm thatched roofs, watching the rain and feeding scraps to stray dogs that wandered and whined. I chatted with fellow travelers and found them all to be very engaging, each eager to tell stories of their travels. I wandered around the area, discovering paths that cut through the groves of fruit trees and finally stumbled upon brightly colored boxes. I learned later that they were tombs and remembered my friend Annie explaining that particular Vietnamese tradition. They bury the deceased on their land, so that the dead may be close to the living and that the living may remember the dead. It's a nice thought, but with my Western upbringing with cemeteries and after hearing way too many ghost stories, I got goosebumps and quickly made my way back to the group.

Our next stop, after another short boat ride, was a coconut candy workshop. I could smell the coconut from the dock and I mock raced a Swedish boy to get there first. He had a sweet tooth to rival mine, which is saying something, and we had spent a ridiculous amount of time talking about candy... Yes, we are 4 years old. Anyway, the candy was delicious! I ate and snuck away several samples (I beat Franz and had 3 more pieces than he did! Once again, I am 4 years old...), buying some to share with my Aunt. With the candy, we were also treated to honey tea, that was served with calamansi (a type of mini lime, the size of a cherry tomato with just as much punch) juice. Delicious!

We then got into row boats and traveled down a narrow canal. It was rainy and a bit stormy, but I found that the elements set the mood quite nicely. I couldn't help but admire the skill of the boatmen, too. Their movements were so graceful and agile, even with the rainy and disturbed waters. They controlled the boats with such ease! And I was so happy to be seated in the front! I geeked out, pretending I was an explorer. It made me miss my mum so much and all the times we spent when I was a kid, watching National Geographic type shows about such boating adventures.

Our last stop was a fruit plantation, where we sampled various native fruits while listening to live, traditional music. Dragon fruit is AMAZING here! If not for the problems with customs, I was willing to spend all my dong on dragon fruit. And a few postcards, I guess. I was appalled when I saw some plates still half full or barely touched by other travelers. I was so, so tempted to eat their leftovers, but decided that I didn't want to come off as, y'know, weird, in the bad way.

So, today, we got up super early to get to the morning floating market in Can Tho. The market was AWESOME!! I wish we had gone earlier to see the market at it's liveliest, but it was still an awesome sight! The area was full of boats, each carrying specific cargo- pineapples, lettuce, dragon fruit, coconuts, onions, carrots... And for advertising, they had poles on which they tied samples of their goods. Simple and effective! The morning air smelled fresh with fruit and vegetables and everywhere I could hear boaters calling out to shoppers and greeting each other. I bought a coconut the size of my head for 35 cents, and contentedly sipped it for the rest of the boat ride. It was surreal. The houses and views along the river were unlike anything. The scenery can best be described as a type of patchwork quilt of textures, materials and colors. The houses were modest but well-kept and brightly colored with laundry lines extended between trees like decorative flags. Some of the houses were pieced together with various sheets and types of scrap metal, which made me think of patchwork quilts in the first place. And all around were various forms of vegetation, with banana and coconut trees overflowing even into the river. I couldn't get enough of how beautiful it all looked and I took way too many photos.

Life in the Delta is so simple. It's a nice change from the complicated (but wonderful and much missed) mess of New York. Being in this attitude climate is definitely a welcomed change from all those years in New York. I kept observing the fishermen, the women selling fruit from their boats, the girls doing laundry, and wondering what their lives were like, especially without the conveniences and accompanying complexities of western life. These thoughts merged with the book I'm reading ("The Geography of Bliss") and I started wondering if they were happy, if they were happier than me, if their simple way of life was better and more fulfilling than mine. I ultimately concluded that there aren't really any answers to those questions and that the best that I can do is to live a happy life in the context of my own existence. Does that make sense?

and the sky opened up...

And BAM. RAIN. I took a cab back to the hostel (for $1.50! Yay exchange rate!) and now I'm here, stuck indoors. Well, I suppose I could go out still. If I wanted to swim in the flooded streets. As it is, I can't swim and there is a Pixar movie marathon on the Disney Channel. Yea, I'm staying here.

Earlier, I wandered all over the city. I got to see a lot of it yesterday, but that was on motorbike. It's a little different to see things blur past you vs. walking through those things, really taking them in. I love observing the daily life here and I took a lot of photos today of the people. I feel intrusive sometimes with the photos that I take, but I'd like to think that I'm not disrupting anything or causing my subjects any harm. Their way of life is just so different here and I find it fascinating.

Oh! I never continued writing about yesterday! So, adventures on motorbike. I got on the bike and we zoomed off into morning traffic, heading to the Cu Chi Tunnels on the outskirts of HCMC. I earned a few chuckles because of my death grip on my guide, but I relaxed and began enjoying the ride instead of worrying if we were going to crash and burn. The ride was awesome and I am in love with motorbikes! The air whipped past me delightfully, cooling me off in the Vietnam heat and humidity. We passed through various parts of the city and I kept whipping my head this way and that trying to see it all. The buildings here are very narrow in width but long in length, and they are brightly and cheerfully painted, adorned with plants. It reminds me of SF in a way, just with echoes of French colonial architecture and a bit run down. The people are lively, filling the sidewalks, selling trinkets on corners, cooking over mini iron stoves, jumping rope. There's so much life and energy in this city!

As we drove, I came to admire everyone's driving skills. I've never seen anything like it. I really will think NOTHING of any other streets or traffic. Vietnam drivers win. They cut through impossibly narrow gaps, speed past each other with mere centimeters between them, sit bumper to bumper at red lights, go against traffic signals to run straight into a bus or death... (reminds me of this at 8:08 and onward. "Yes they're going to crash, but Harry loves death!") It's amazing to watch, and even more awesome to be a part of! I had so much fun weaving and speeding through the streets, often laughing in disbelief that I was in Vietnam at all.

The concentrated clusters of taller city buildings gradually thinned to smaller store fronts, then residential streets, then finally to countryside. My sights were filled with green fields and I could smell the rice as we zoomed through. (Rice. Is. The. Best.) I saw water buffalo roaming and peasants on bicycles wearing straw hats. The sun was out and everything was so vibrant! It was truly beautiful and I felt so blessed to have been able to experience it all.

Before we got to the tunnels, my guide took me to the rubber tree forest, which was pretty awesome. The trees were various sizes & ages, growing in neat, seemingly infinite rows. Coconut shell halves were strung to them at the ends of cuts in the bark for collecting the rubber. I got to watch some women collecting the rubber into large plastic buckets, taking breaks to swing in hammocks.

Cu Chi was a very peaceful village in the country. Then the US invaded and attempted to take it over. This forced the population of the town that did not flee to live underground in a series of small tunnels. These tunnels are seriously tiiiiny. There are multiple levels too. In the event of an attack or bombing, they would simply escape to the lower levels. The US army could never pursue them because as beefy American soldiers, they were too large to fit into the small, narrow spaces. Ingenious! I have to say, though, I don't think I've ever heard the phrase "American enemy" more often in my life. I felt awful for being an American, even if it was not my generation that was responsible for the terrible things that took place in Cu Chi. These feelings carried over to the War Remnants Museum, which I visited next.

The museum as a whole was awesome and I learned a great deal, but I also acquired a whole lot of shame. The first floor was dedicated to the victims and the terrors of the war. It detailed the losses of Vietnam, the deaths, injuries and effects that persist even today in the form of physical and mental disabilities caused by chemical weapons, particularly Agent Orange. The accompanying photos were disturbing and heartbreaking, and I couldn't even look at the weapons that caused it all. Since learning about it in school, I had always been of the mind that the war was pointless and stupid, but it was only in the museum that I realized just how pointless and stupid. So many lives were lost, resources wasted, money burned... And for what? I'm not even sure if your average American or Vietnamese can give a straight answer for that. Now, I mean no disrespects to those that fought in the war. Efforts and sacrifices on either side must be recognized, regardless of what side you support. All that I am criticizing is the root of the war, what caused it and what prolonged it needlessly. But back to the museum. The upper floors were more positive, instead focusing on the rebuilding of Vietnam that continues today. There was a section of Vietnamese artwork, photos of locations before and after the conflict, etc. Another section that stood out to me was a collection of photos taken by several US photo journalists who died during the war. These photos, while haunting in subject and history, were beautiful and I tried to give them each the attention and appreciation they deserved. I admittedly cried while at the museum. A lot was difficult to internalize. Ignorance and disbelief would have been easier, happier, but I'm glad I went to the museum. I'd like to think that by going and actively learning, I paid respects, although small, to the victims of the war.

After the museum, I hopped back on the bike and my guide took me to a local noodle joint for dinner. The place was noisy and busy- two good signs of a good place to eat. It was outdoors, under a huge circus type tent/tarp, and furnished with short metal tables and chairs. We split a huge bowl of soup, which was put on a heating platform over an open flame. The soup itself was broth, meat and some veggies, and the noodles and tofu were added separately, as desired. The soup and the banana wine (which was more like flavored vodka than anything else) made a great first dinner in Vietnam! Local food with locals. Can't really get any better than that. After, I went back to the hostel, met some nice travelers and we all went out for beers too, which cost 50 cents a bottle. Vietnam is the best. And this post is long. So I'll end here. Good night, world!

i rode a motorcycle through rice fields!

No joke! And I am also kind of a tiny teeny bit tipsy. On accident! Allow me to explain. Ahem.

So, today was pretty ridiculous, and there was honestly so much potential for things to go wrong and for me to be kidnapped and sold into slavery. As usual, I woke up early, unable to sleep in because I was in a new bed and a new place. I have to warm up to a room before I can really sleep in it. I ate some awesome free breakfast from my hostel and then went walking, with the intentions of checking out a big market nearby. I was doing really well, I think, with the art of crossing the street. And believe me, it is an art! I thought that China and the Philippines were a awful. I was not prepared for the nightmare of Vietnam streets. Well, I guess I shouldn't say nightmare. Obstacle course? Intimidating obstacle course? Terrifyingly difficult and near impossible obstacle course? But I'm being dramatic. It really does take balls to cross the street though. Really. If you're not confident and assertive, you will get run over by either a motorcycle, a taxi, a bus, a bicycle, or all of the above at the same time or in succession. But I digress. So, while I was walking, a old man approached me on a red motorcycle, asking if I was in need of a guide. He was the 4th person to ask in 10 minutes and I was starting to get annoyed, wanting to walk in peace, and wondering just how obvious it was that I was a foreigner. He was relentless though, so I humored him for a bit, listening to his accounts of past tour guiding and how happy he made those tourists. In the end, I talked him down from $30 to $15 for a whole day of touring and traveling around on his motorcycle and meals. Cool, no?

But ah, my new friend is here and we're going to get more drinks! More banana wine I hope, which is more like vodka really, but with a smack of banana. Yummmm. Goodnight, mdears! I love you and miss you all and I will continue to recount my ridiculous day soon! And please excuse the spelling and grammatical errors if there are any. I will for sure fix them once in a more focused mindset! Taaaa!

Don't worry, mom and dad, I am drinking responsibly. :)

travel tips pt. 1

So, I love making lists and have decided to include some in my blog in addition to the journal entries! So here is a list of 5 random travel tips for China:

1. Bring your student ID. Even if you've graduated, bring it! You won't regret it. At nearly every site and location that I went to, there was a student price offered and it was usually half that of the adult admission fee. The saved yuan will add up! I spent mine on food. Big fat YES.

2. If you don't have a student ID, take advantage of the language barrier. Really. The only times I liked the language barrier in China was when I could present my library/insurance/credit/etc. card and pass it off as a student ID. Worked EVERY time.

3. Visit less popular sections of the Great Wall. Trust me. It's worth it. They're more difficult to get to and further away, but in the end, I'd rather make the extra effort to get there than to make the extra effort to elbow my way on the wall through crowds of other tourists. Mutianyu is a lovely section and there are areas where you can actually camp out on the wall. Super cool!

4. Visit parks early in the morning. To catch local community life, check out public parks and gardens! But it's best to go early in the morning. The wee hours of the day are the most lively. And tai chi groups are early risers, and the sight of rows and rows of people doing tai chi is something not to be missed!

5. Don't fall for the tea house scandal! They are disguised as Chinese youth, eager to practice their English and help you out as a poor, lost tourist. They chat you up and then ask you to join them to traditional tea. Sounds lovely and you can't blame lonely and lost tourists for biting the bait. But don't agree to this offer! The bill at tea house will be ENORMOUS and while your new Chinese "friends" may be all smiles and happy chatter, they're really just after your money, which they later split with the tea house. Just say no. Or better yet, tell them, "I know all about your tea house scandal! I DON'T WANT YOUR GREEN TEA!"

i want APPLEPIEAMERICAHHHH.

Yea. Can you tell I'm a bit homesick today? I ran some errands earlier, enjoying being back in the Philippines for sure, but with a growing sense of homesickness for the United States and the people. Walking around in 90 degree weather during October, my body was very confused and I found myself unconsciously searching for signs of autumn, without any success. But lo and behold. Staring at me from across the street was a McDonalds. And we all know what McDonalds offers in its menu, at least in most locations: APPLE PIES! Hooray forever with moustaches! A taste of autumn! A small baked pie of America, apples and autumn! I sped walked to those gold arches and ordered a pie and a vanilla cone, wanting it a la mode. It was the best 35 cents I've spent this entire trip!


So, I still have to write about my last day in China. Here goes. I got up early, as usual, and hit up the two nearby parks, Jingshan and Beihai. I'll just write about Jingshan because I liked that one better anyway. Aaaand I'm lazy. Ha. Jingshan (which translates to Prospect Hill) park was AWESOME. The hill itself is artificial, created during the Ming Dynasty out of the earth dug out for moats and canals, and lies exactly north of the Forbidden City. And fun/morbid fact: the last emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Chongzhen, committed suicide by hanging himself there in 1644 because the empire was falling into ruin under his rule. Cool! History! But anyway, on top of the highest and most central peak sits a grand pavilion and from it you have the most beautiful view of Beijing, particularly of the Forbidden City. I sat up there for almost 2 hours, drinking in the scenery and writing postcards, half glad that I was there by myself but also half wishing I had at least someone else with me to share it with. Ah well. By the time I started making my way down the hill, it was approaching early afternoon and the park was coming alive with tourist groups but also with the locals. Over the years the park has become a community hub of activity- singing, traditional chinese dancing, waltzing, jump roping, accordion playing, painting, card gaming, the list goes on! It was awesome to see the community coming together and it was a great glimpse into their daily life, ignoring the huge tour groups noisily walking by.

After the parks, I ran into my Californian friend, Lu, and we got lunch together at a nearby dumpling restaurant. I was in great luck because he could speak and understand Chinese! Hooray forever! So for once I wasn't stumbling over menus or worrying about what I had tried to order and had actually ordered. The dumplings were deeeeeelicious and the company was lovey, especially after eating so many meals by myself. He ordered two big plates of dumplings and we split a 24 oz. beer and it was the best meal I'd had in China hands down. And it all cost 10 bucks! Which he paid for entirely. Californian boys are the best!

We parted ways, and I headed to the Olympic stadiums. I knew my friend Sara would kill me if I didn't pay them a visit. Well that and I had admired them greatly from my television and computer screens in 2008 and I wanted to see them in person. They were outstanding! So impressive! Earlier, during lunch, Lu, who was an architecture student at UC Berkeley, had given me his take on the structures as well as interesting background information on the design and functionality of the buildings. It was nice to be able to apply what I had learned from him while I was there. The Bird's Nest was a graceful and chaotic, organized mess of beams and steel and I stood staring at it for half an hour, trying to trace each individual strip with my eyes. The pool was easily my favorite though. I love that the design is meant to mimic soap suds! The design was clean and neat and so elegantly constructed! I stuck around until the sun started setting. That was my cue to leave and then to hop on my plane.

And now I'm back in the Philippines. Whew. But I'm off again very soon for Vietnam on the 8th! I've been vegging out hardcore for the past 2 days, which has been great after all the busy and constant traveling. I got a little sick towards the end of my trip in China largely due to exhaustion, but I'm recovering now. Okie. Time to go pick up laundry and explore more of Makati! Peace!

china, it's been real.

So now I'm back in the Philippines. The rest of my stay in China was a whirlwind of craziness and activity, which left me at Peking Airport zombie-like (minus the craving for human brains) and exhausted, very much ready to go back to Manila. I did have a swingin' time in China though, and I know for a fact that I will return there! I did get to see a lot during my two weeks stay, but China is a huge country, and I only got to see a fraction, nay, a fraction of a fraction of it. Feels unfair to the other cities and sights... at least that will be my justification for going back, whenever that will be.

So, I have three days to write about. I will try to be brief so that this post doesn't become a novel. One of my roommates in the hostel was an old Japanese man who was a very early riser and an early sleeper. And as I am a fairly light sleeper, I woke up with him every morning at 530/6am, which I actually didn't mind because I'm an early bird by nature anyway. That and getting up early means less tourists. So double win. But even as I walked to the metro station at 7am, flocks of people were already pouring into my neighborhood, heading to Tian'an men Square and the City of Forbidden-ness, two of the key places of interest on October 1 (the official National Holiday Day while the rest of the week was simply vacation).

So I headed to the Temple of Heaven early and beat the crowds. The Temple, like most old holy places in China, was situated at the heart of a large park. The park area was lovely to walk around and had several pavilions scattered throughout, under which families sat eating, old men played cards, and women made knitting circles. Two individuals stand out in my memory in particular, though. One was a man writing poetry in Chinese calligraphy with a very large brush and a bucket of water. He told me later, through a rough translator, that this poetry was an art of finding the right word combinations in terms of meaning but also in terms of aesthetics. I really loved that he used water. What he wrote were moments of poetry that you had to witness the creation of in order to know it ever existed at all. The other was an old man who was happily knitting hats. He had the most delighted and gleeful smile on his face while he worked, always nodding in greeting to passerbys. He was adorable.

The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, the main building, was magnificent. Instead of the usual square or rectangular buildings I had been seeing, it was circular and triple-gabled with a roof that narrowed and coned upward, all situated on a foundation of carved white marble. (And fun fact: the building was completely wooden with no nails!) The colors were striking- bright reds, greens, blues, purples and golds. And the details were intricate and hypnotizing.

I continued on to the Summer Palace, which immediately became one of my favorite places. It is also another type of park area with the dominating features being Longevity Hill and the Kunming Lake. I think UNESCO describes this place perfectly: "a masterpiece of Chinese landscape garden design. The natural landscape of hills and open water is combined with artificial features such as pavilions, halls, palaces, temples and bridges to form a harmonious ensemble of outstanding aesthetic value." There were so many trails to explore, gardens to discover... it really was a huge and beautiful place!

The next day, was my most anticipated day in Beijing: THE GREAT WALL! Not wanting to wade through currents and seas of tourists, or to pay a ridiculous amount of money for a tour group, I decided to go on my own to a more remote and farther section of the wall called Mutianyu. Mutianyu, so named after the adjacent town, is the best preserved section of the Great Wall with the largest construction scale. To get there, I had to take a strange bus that only sometimes went to the wall. You had to ask each driver that came to the stop if that was their destination. And the stop itself was ridiculous to find. I was lucky and managed okay, but in retrospect it was pretty ridiculous. It was located outside of the actual bus station, down the street and two long blocks over, hidden away by construction walls and in the back of a huge parking lot... But I made it! And with the help of a kind Chinese woman who spoke a little English, I got onto the right bus, which turned out to be a different line altogether. Le shrug.

Once I got to the Mutianyu stop, I couldn't contain my excitement and it took so much effort to not run to the top of the wall. Well, even if I had given into my excitement, I wouldn't have gotten far running anyway, because I had to walk/climb up thousands and thousands of steps to get to the top. I may do yoga, but I am no athlete, so I settled for a steady walking pace. On the way up, I saw waaay too many bare-chested, pot-bellied old men, which reminded me of those Buddha slogans of "rub my belly for good luck." Don't worry, I did no such thing. Once on the wall, my heart stopped. (And then "Be a Man" started playing in my head accompanied by images of Mulan and Shang doing air kicks.) It was simply amazing- the view, the wall, the weather, the air... all of it. I could see the wall snaking off into the distance for miles and miles in both directions, disappearing occasionally only to zigzag into view again through some trees or valleys. And the scenery was breathtaking! All green and tree-covered hills and mountains layering and melting into each other. The sky was blue, the breeze was cool and playful and I offered a thankful prayer to the universe for letting me be there at that point in time, for creating that moment for me to experience.

Walking the wall took some effort. I worked up a sweat in a matter of minutes, which is saying something because I'm a strange breed of human that rarely sweats. It was like walking on a stone wave. It rose and fell at random with varying degrees of intensity and steepness. The steps ranged from tiny half steps, to steep climbs that required your entire body's involvement, to nonexistent slopes. As I walked, I kept thinking about how many people it took to build the wall and about how ancient guards used to patrol it years and years ago... And then I saw a rainbow! As childish as this may sound, I got super happy and gazed at it on tiptoe over a taller portion of the wall. I saw it as a good omen and thanked the universe again. I ended up walking along the wall for almost 6 hours! It felt like no time at all and I could have stayed there forever. But I had to catch the last bus back to Beijing at 4pm. So, I savored my last few moments with the wall, and then made my decent.

Okie, that's all I got. I'm getting sleepy. TBC.

happy october!

Wow! It's October already! Back in the states I know that autumn has now taken over summer, and I want nothing more than to stomp through leaves in Central Park while drinking hot apple cider. And eating an entire apple pie. A la mode. Mmmm... Yea, such things don't really exist here, but I guess I can settle for egg tarts and moon cakes...

Beijing is a wonderful city! But I know for sure that I would love it a lot more if it wasn't so crowded with tourists! It isn't exactly tourist season right now, but throughout China, for the entire first week of this month, it's a national holiday. So that means 1.3 billion people are on vacation, and very likely flocking to the major cities in China, which puts Beijing at the top of the list. I got to Beijing the day before the holiday week started, so the crowds were just starting to gather and it wasn't so bad. Yet.

On my first day, after checking into the hostel, I went to the Forbidden City and Tian'an men Square. The Forbidden City exceeded all expectations in every sense! It was ENDLESS. Built in 1406 to 1420, it was the imperial palace and the ceremonial and political center of Chinese government from the Ming to Qing Dynasties. There are almost 1000 buildings, and it covers 7.8 million square feet! Walking through the Meridian Gate was surreal. My awe increased with every step (which was the exact intent of the architectural design and layout of the area, back in the day). Everything was so detailed and so colorful! From the undersides of the ceilings, to the door knobs, to the rails on the bridges... Scarlet reds, deep blues, vibrant greens... Dragon statues, water lily carvings, swirling cloud designs... Ohhh man. It was so awesome! Can you geek out over beauty and aesthetics, because I totally did. The Hall of Supreme Harmony, which is the largest and the heart of the Forbidden City, was so gorgeous. Walking up a staircase of white marble, which was beautifully carved and decorated with dragons, I got to a red pillared entryway. The hall housed the Dragon Throne, a crazy-intricate throne covered with interwoven dragon carvings and delicate details of gold. So so beautiful! I spent a good 3 hours there, wandering around, getting wonderfully lost in the history and the crisscrossing paths.

Tian'an men Square is another awesome area of history. As the biggest city square in the world, it's seen so many protests and political events. It was amazing to stand where one of my favorite photographs of all time, "Tank Man" by Jeff Widener, was taken. The Monument to the People's Heroes looked, well, monumental and heroic with the sun setting behind it, and I sat for a bit to watch the projected panoramic films playing on loop of Chinese culture and history.

Later, I met a very nice guy from California at my hostel, and we went out exploring the Donghuamen Night Market. I was expecting it to be your average tourist-focused market with trinkets and cheesy souvenirs, but it was actually all food vendors. And they had the most bizarre foods! They made everything into kabobs- chicken, beef, fish, squid, starfish, sea horses, centipedes, scorpions... EVERYTHING. And the scorpions were still alive on the sticks! I asked a vendor about this, and he replied in broken English, "So it made fresh to order!" And he proceeded to grab a stick with 5 live and squirming scorpions, held it over an open fire grill and then tried to hand it to me. I giggled uncomfortably and walked away as fast as my legs could carry me.

Okay, this post is getting long and I'm getting sleepy. I'll write about the Temple of Heaven and the Summer Palace tomorrow! Peace!