tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296339092024-03-07T16:27:14.657+07:00MalayFloA Canadian transplanted.Florinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00505955042136951740noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-23443043903652118792007-02-11T05:42:00.000+07:002007-04-25T01:48:42.082+07:00Just a quick note as I transit through Japan. (even quicker than I originally thought because typing on the Japanese keyboard it really confusing!)<br /><br />Narita looks a lot like Vancouver except with more bamboo and bowing. It is 8 degrees and I feel like it is minus 30. I am also pretty out of it with the time difference after flying out ofHanoi at midnight and arriving here at 7 AM local time and the flight was only 4 hours. It just doesn`t make sense given thatI am travelling east.<br />Anyway all is well and I will be in Vancouver two hours from now--- if there were no such thing as time zones---but in reality it is something like 16 hours away.<br /><br />fぉ利ねぁw乱世Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-67645777756090098482007-02-07T17:50:00.000+07:002007-02-07T17:57:13.106+07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zFDd-dMmL1g/RcmwOuR0z0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/4afm7h-rPL0/s1600-h/377920407_ccd2efa2cb_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zFDd-dMmL1g/RcmwOuR0z0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/4afm7h-rPL0/s320/377920407_ccd2efa2cb_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028744225923321666" border="0" /></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thaipusam">Thaipusam</a><br />Lu's boyfriend Eduardo is a really brilliant photographer.<br /><a href="http://diariomalaio.blogspot.com/">Check out his blog for more photos of the Thaipusam festival we attended last week.</a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-35951733980322345272007-02-04T15:45:00.000+07:002007-02-04T17:52:34.988+07:00Well it seems that I won't be able to provide you the kind of complete and detailed account of my trip to Vietnam and <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Cambodia I</span> had promised and I am sorry for that faithful reader.<br />I hit a critical point in the last week and have decided to go home a couple of weeks early. But this is not a sad thing; it feels quite right. Since I have only a short time left in Asia and it will be a scramble to finish the reports I have been working on, please forgive what will be a brief run through of the last 10 days of our trip.<br /><br />So we left off in <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Chau</span> Doc a town seemingly unused to its role as jumping off point for backpackers heading up the <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">river ways</span> to <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Phnom</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Penh</span>. We were picked up around 7AM to catch the boat and we met two other couples who seemed interesting. One was from Chile very <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">focused</span> on photography and the other was a British couple cycling their way across Asia. They had started off in China and then rode down the whole of Vietnam and were going through Cambodia and Thailand. I felt very inspired by them, although they did have to deal with a lot more hassle trying to get their bikes on and off the boats and vans that made up this journey.<br />Although we had been promised that we had skipped the tours that were included in this trip it seems we only made it out of the visit to a fish farm but we were brought to a "traditional <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Cham</span> (a <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Muslim</span> minority) village". I really hate stuff like that. It feels like a human zoo you really don't learn anything about the people anyway. So <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Jono</span> and I hung out on the boat and waited. The British couple returned with long faces and said that we didn't miss anything. So then finally the trip was really underway. I felt like I was in some twisted version of the Life of Pi trapped on a small wooden boat with a group of very distinctive characters who might turn on each other at any moment.<br />There was a this really obnoxiously talkative and boastful British guy and his younger American <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">disciple</span>. A family from Denmark with very tattooed parents who busted out <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">some hard</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">liquour</span> when the trip sank into hot afternoon <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">doldrums</span>. A couple of a Thai wife and a Czech husband with their small daughter and a slew of older German men, a <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Australian</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Vietnamese</span> family the son of which surprised me when after finding out we were Canadian asked if I didn't think it would be better if Quebec separated and became part of the US, some other random backpackers and one soft looking Japanese guy who didn't talk to anyone.<br />Anyway this trip was the definition of epic we left at 7 and arrived in <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Phnom</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Penh</span> after 9PM. The whole trip was spent sitting on wooden benches and there was no toilet of any kind. I was amazed that the kids were able to survive this. That being said we saw things going up the Mekong that you would never see travelling <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">any other</span> way. Every little kid living on the riverbanks shouted hello to us from their wooden stilt houses or as they were tending to their water buffalo or cows. We saw how people live who are so totally off the grid it could be another time altogether. It looked like a peaceful but difficult life trying to get what you can out of the ancient Mekong soil.<br />When we finally arrived in the city everyone in the group was at their wits end and people were shouting at the tour guide and demanding to be dropped off places that the driver didn't want to so it was with that residue on our skin that we agreed to rent an icky and expensive room above an "Irish" pub just to have an some respite.<br />We ended up staying in <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Phnom</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Penh</span> for another night, which was against our plan, because we didn't get it together early enough to catch the bus to <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Siem</span> Reap. At the time I was disappointed in our lack of organisation on that but now it seems clear that we were totally exhausted and it was better not to try to push it anyway.<br /><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Phnom</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Penh</span> feels like a place of extremes, like I wrote in my post from my first visit there, this struck me again this time. It is easy to make comparisons with Vietnam because they are neighbours and have some common history but the mass implosion that took place in Cambodia still can be felt, and like it had a bigger impact maybe because the evil was known to be within the countries leadership instead of a <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">foreign</span> force that could be ousted. While we were in <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Phnom</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Penh</span> we visited the museum at <a href="http://www.tuolsleng.com/"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Tuol</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Sleng</span></a> which was a gut wrenching and perplexing place. How could so many people have been so brutally treated and killed at what still looks like the high school it once was?<br />On January 13 we headed up to <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Siem</span> Reap to finally see the temples at Angkor. There is a bit of a system in place in this town where the <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">tuk</span>-<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">tuk</span> driver's really take the lead in your experience. We were given a ride from the bus station for free and the driver helped us find a nice hotel. He told us he would pick us up at 4:30 so that we could go get our pass to the park and see the sunset at one of the temples. It was clear as soon as we arrived that all of the drivers did this same time as the hilltop temple was so crowded it was hard to even see the structure itself. Still it felt pretty cool to be there <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">amoungst</span> such a great ancient achievement of artistic vision. The next day we allowed ourselves to be trotted around to all the most famous sites but as interesting and important as they are we were on this route that all of the other people were on going to the same places in the same order at the same time and I found that annoying. I am really not trying to be <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">pretentious</span> but I just don't make a good tourist. <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Jono</span> got a couple of really good shots of some of the tourists though, including one of this old Japanese guy with an umbrella hat (you know those ones that makes it look like an umbrella is growing out of your head like a mushroom) and a huge camera. I have to get him to post some of those shots; I think they are some of my favourites from the trip! You know that very famous temple with the <a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/105/368970434_b93f9d8a43_o.jpg">roots</a> growing into it? I found that spot swarmed with Japanese girls getting pictures taken as they made peace signs and cute poses with the root. It was too hilarious, except if you wanted to get a photo without anyone clambering all over your shot. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor_Wat">Angkor Wat</a> itself was intriguing not to mention fun to climb and I really loved seeing the faces at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bayon"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Bayon</span></a> but I had the most fun when we returned on bicycles the next day and totally did our own thing trekking through the less busy sites and following jungle paths pretending we were early explorers. When dusk was settling in we were off finding the wall to the city of Angkor Thom and when we reached it and climbed up, all that was on the other side was dense jungle and monkey calls and I really could picture what the place was like 100 years ago.<br />The next day we bussed it back to Ho Chi <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Minh</span> City and although it took all day it was quite a painless trip. To anyone planning to take the bus in area I really recommend the Mekong Express company; it was certainly better than any other I have taken in Asia.<br />We only had two days left in <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">HCMC</span> and we did some souvenir shopping, went for a <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">cyclo</span> ride to the Chinese area of <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">ChoLon</span>, ate lots of <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">pho</span> and <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">nuoc</span> soda <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">chanh</span> (lemon soda) went for beers on <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">Pham</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">Ngu</span> Lao and then it was a very teary and fuzzy-headed goodbye on the 19<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">th</span> when <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">Jono</span> left on the long trip back to winter.<br />And that brings us back to my journey back to KL, which is where this yarn started.<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-46761030373664677432007-01-27T23:34:00.000+07:002007-02-04T17:46:52.890+07:00January 11<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> was an <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">agro</span> day for me. I should look back and see if it was in my horoscope. I didn't wake up angry in our decent hotel room nor was there a cloud over me on our search for morning noodles, but I really flipped out when I realized that I had been foolish and gotten ripped off for the bus trip from <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Rach</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Gia</span> to <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Chau</span> Doc. The taxi dropped us off at the ticket booth but before we had even gotten out of the car a woman in a ratty leaf hat and mismatched pajamas started shouting "<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Chau</span> Doc? <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Chau</span> Doc?" Then when we <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">got</span> out of the car she grabbed my arm and brusquely lead me to a run down bus here she asked for 300,000 Dong (just over $20) to take us and our bags. Caught up n the feigned urgency I complied and thought her intensity was due to the bus' imminent departure. After we were sitting there for 15 <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">mins</span> it finally dawned on me that I was being taken for a ride in more ways than one. I left the bus to go see the actual price of the trip and I was accosted by other woman affiliated with the bus. She was trying to push me away from the ticket booth and trying to physically get me back on the bus. But I had already seen the price posted at 45,000 Dong and I was livid for being both over charged and (<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">wo</span>)manhandled. I slapped the woman's hands away but she kept pulling at me and so I stuck a pointed finger in her face (surely this has to be a universal gesture) and pointed at the price, berating her for ripping me off because I am a foreigner and warning her not to touch me. I am sure she understood none of this really but at least she relented. At my leisure I walked back to the bus finding it running and <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Jono</span> leaning out hoping that they wouldn't leave without me. I was further aggravated when the bus went only for another minute or so before stopping to try to solicit more passengers to fill all the seats. We were also held up because the woman I had had the stand off with got into a non-serious motorcycle accident across the street and everyone on the bus wanted to gawk.<br />Really I should have known better than to get upset about any of this because they are all just par for the course taking the non-tourist bus in Vietnam. Finally when all but the 5 seats <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Jono</span> and I were taking up (and thereby getting our moneys worth) were full we got bumping and honking down the road, all the windows open for lack of <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">aircon</span> and hawkers getting on and off at every stop. Their wares included tofu/processed meat sausage wrapped in palm leaves, iced coffee in baggies, various puffed items, huge sesame seed crackers and lotto tickets.<br />The drive seemed like we were passing through a huge small town as one spread into the next. It was quite different from the trip between <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Tra</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Vinh</span> and <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">HCMC</span>, which was sprinkled with rice fields and cows grazing in ditches. I was a little confused when we arrived in Can Tho province and we were shuffled onto a smaller minivan bus, but <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">atleast</span> it had shocks and proper seats so the rest of our journey was more comfortable. By then I had gotten over my grumpiness and the trip ended up being much shorter than I had anticipated. I think it was only about 4 hours between <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Rach</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Gia</span> and <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Chau</span> Doc.<br />When we arrived I let <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Jono</span> take the lead and he refused to be rushed off by the hoard of <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">xe</span> om and <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">cyclo</span> drivers that met us at the bus station. We had a coffee at a nearby stand to decide our next move and the drivers just came and joined us at the table, eager to shuttle us off somewhere. After listening to us talk about what hotel we would go to and watching us flipping through the Lonely Planet, one driver spoke to us very eloquently of his hotel and of arranging the boat trip the next day to <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Phnom</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Penh</span>. I was inclined to like him but I am <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">alway</span> skeptical of obvious touts. We ended up in a <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">cyclo</span> fashioned out of an old bike with a wooden cart on the back that we somehow managed to fit into with our bags. This slower pace was quite nice but I couldn't help but feel for this skinny old guy pulling us along. We stopped in front of a hotel but noticed immediately that it was not the one we had asked for. Then we see the tout pulling up beside us smilingly on his motorbike. After we refused his offer to have a look the <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">cyclo</span> guy took us to the intended hotel but the tout followed us the whole way and then as we were getting out he said sweetly "if you don't like this one, you come to my hotel". Then he looked like he was going to wait for us and this was all getting a little too much. Indeed we did not like that hotel but we looked at the map and made another plan before going outside and luckily this <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">persistant</span> fellow had given up. The other hotel was just across the street and was newly renovated, clean and well decorated and I could not have asked for more. We spent the rest of the day exploring around <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Chau</span> Doc, especially the market and the riverside where we saw these tiny kids practicing some brutal-looking martial art with expertise beyond their years. After weighing all the options we booked our selves on the slow boat to Cambodia for the next morning, and that experience deserves a posting all to itself.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-57655640603190535552007-01-22T18:11:00.000+07:002007-01-23T17:37:41.958+07:00<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span> another installment in this post-travelogue. I told Lauren that this writing was slow going and she thought it was a good thing and maybe I could use it to extend the experience to the remainder of my time here. It was such a great trip I do want to savour it, so let's get on with it.<br /><br /><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Jono</span> arriving on New Year's Eve was fantastic. It was a celebration without having to do more than have a picnic in the hotel room. At midnight we were hanging out on the balcony drinking in the city's night sights and sounds as only a few "whoops" went up above the usual Ho Chi <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Minh</span> bustle. It was pretty romantic, although I am not sure that I am conveying it well here.<br /><br />For the next few days we checked out the city and the market with all of it's visual and olfactory intensity and fake <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">everythings</span>. I took Jonathan to some of my favorite places in District 1--the totally non-Starbucks wannabe <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Trung</span> Nguyen cafe (where guys play checkers and watch soccer and I have never seen another foreigner even though it is in tourist ground zero), Go2 in the backpacker zone, the boulevard park on Le <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Lai</span>. I was so happy that he liked these spots as much as I do, because I had spent so much time in August and September wandering the city and looking forward to sharing it. <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">HCMC</span> was all done up in lights for Christmas (much more so than KL) and there was a definite holiday feel to the place, which made it even nicer than when I was there last.<br /><br />On January 3 we flew to <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Phu</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Quoc</span> island and it was exactly the tropical island experience I was looking for. The people on the whole of the island were great (even in the non-touristy places) but this was especially true of the folks at <a href="http://www.beachclubvietnam.com/index.html">Beach Club</a> (kind of a cheesy name for a very <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">uncheesy</span> place) where we stayed the first five nights we were there. The staff were so warm and sweet we got a good feeling as soon as we met <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Kum</span> at the airport; he was so genuine and smiley. One of the first things we did when we got to BC was walk down the perfect light brown sandy beach and go for a swim in the warm and salty water. There were some significant waves that day but I didn't mind being thrown around a bit. I felt like that was the moment I had been living for for the last 1/2 year. Swimming with <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Jono</span> at my side I could let all the stress of my internship drift away into the ocean.<br /><br />The next days at Beach Club were made up of a lot of laying in hammocks, swimming, eating good food, reading and watching the other guests and trying to figure out their stories. The weather off-shore was apparently very bad and the ferry (that we planning to take) wasn't running for most of the time we were on <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">PQ</span>. We stressed a bit about not being able to get off the island, but there are certainly worse places to be marooned.<br /><br />We tried to leave on the 8<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">th</span> but there were no ferries running and all flights were booked up for a week. We tried to go standby but we were not even given a speck of hope of getting on. As we left the airport dejectedly we were approached by several guys offering to take us to a fishing boat that was taking people across. We'd heard horror stories about people getting off of the small wooden boats surprised that they survived the trip. We decided to wait it out a few days get on a wait list for a flight and consider the fishing boat as an emergency option I hoped we didn't have to take.<br />Our last two days on <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Phu</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Quoc</span> were two of the most memorable, mainly because we rented a motorbike and explored the island in the late afternoon. <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">PQ</span> is famous for its sunset and it did no disappoint. The first day we rode down a red dirt road through a couple of small villages where the people looked like they were living in a traditional way, fishing and farming. I should say that although <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Phu</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Quoc</span> has a number of guest houses and a couple of bigger hotels, it is far from built up and once you get out of the beach-tourist area you are really in the southern Vietnamese country-side as if you were not on a beach resort island. <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Phu</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Quoc's</span> other industry is producing it's famous fish sauce and that evening we passed what <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">initally</span> looked like a prison, but on closer inspection was probably a fish sauce factory. I <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">tought</span> maybe it was a combination of the two as the very pungent odor of "aging" fish should be enough to make penance for any crime. On the second day we checked out the village of Ham <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Ninh</span> and we met a couple of very friendly and rambunctious boys, whose pictures I am sure <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Jono</span> will include when he posts. They got a really good belly-laugh out of seeing their pics on the camera display.<br />On January 9<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">th</span> we decided to treat ourselves to this buffet <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">barbeque</span> on the beach. It was 15 <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">USD</span> per person, which is insanely expensive compared to what you can generally eat for, but we went for it. Tasting some of Jonathan's food I got a bad feeling but I didn't say anything about it and proceeded to help myself to unlimited desserts. I wish I had said something then because in the middle of the night <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Jono</span> was violently ill. I will spare you (and him) the details, but when we heard that the ferry was finally running again the next day I was prepared to let it go because I was sure he wouldn't be able to make it. I also was not feeling 100% but we medicated ourselves and took what could have been our only safe option for getting off <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Phu</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Quoc</span>. Some how we managed to drag ourselves all the way through the trip which included a bumpy bus ride, rising and thumping waves on the boat and finally a motorcycle to get to a hotel. When we arrived we collapsed for the rest of the day. The town the ferry took us to is called <a href="http://www.petester.com/html/VNPICS040.html"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Rach</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Gia</span></a> and it is kind of a rough but prosperous port town that Lonely Planet says is known for smuggling. Given our state we only marginally explored it, but at least we were now on the mainland and would not, as I feared, miss getting to Angkor Wat.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-9713310788612644582007-01-20T21:18:00.000+07:002007-01-20T22:19:43.981+07:00After what feels like much longer than three weeks I am now back to my college dorm-reminiscent flat in this crazy city of Kuala Lumpur. It feels better to be back here than I had feared. I really felt like I should be going back home with Jono yesterday instead of coming back here. It was so hard to say goodbye on the street in HCMC with taxi drivers watching in amusement.<br />I flew today from HCMC to Singapore and then caught a bus to KL. I was surprised that the guard almost didn't let me in at the Malaysian border, usually they have said nary a word. All the while he was questioning me about what I was doing in the country and how long I was staying I was praying that he wouldn't admit me so that I have an excuse not to return. It was probably the nonchalance that came with not caring that made him trust my story. But, like I said now that I am back at my apartment and I chatted with my sweet roommates I feel better about the situation.<br />I want to make some kind of record of this amazing trip, Jono has all the photos and will post some on flickr, but there should be a narrative as well.<br />I start with the reverse of the trip I made today.<br />Going from KL to Sinagpore was intended to be an adventure free of stress, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. Taking the overnight train - a quaint idea- was a little more trouble than it was worth. Setting off was fine and we rattled, rolled and chug-chug-chugged our way through Malaysia all night and at about 7AM we arrived in Johor Baru (at the border), only 45 mins behind schedule the cheery attendant told us. I had allowed a four hour window to get from the train station to the airport--surely enough for an island that only takes 40 mins to drive across? In Johor we were told that there was a train coming to opposite direction and that we needed to wait a few minutes to let it pass. An hour and a half later we got rolling again and the worst part was the we had waited so long only to travel for about 5 mins to reach the Singapore border! After getting through immigration it was about 11AM and my flight was at noon. I was freaking out imagining how horrible it would be if I didn't get to HCMC by the next morning to meet Jono at the airport. In my anxiety I asked for advice from a fellow passenger who told me to bail from getting back on the train and catch a taxi instead. Thankfully from here on luck was on my side and I had just enough money for the taxi and I arrived at the airport with 5 minutes left to check in. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to the universe the whole flight.<br />Arriving in HCMC I was elated to be in Vietnam, riding motorbike taxis, eating pho and taking everything in again in District 1. I was so nervous to meet Jono the next day I woke up way too early and had a long wait at the airport. It was an incredible moment when our eyes met as I think both of us were worried that we wouldn't find each other in the throngs of people crowded around the international arrivals door. As we got in a taxi I was in disbelief that it all worked out and Jonathan was actually there in the flesh and Jono got his first look at this country that has taught me so much.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-6272124301037119072006-12-25T17:34:00.001+07:002006-12-26T09:39:47.034+07:00<a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lotus/324728598/"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/140/324728598_5f25c45d43_m.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lotus/324728598/">DSC03101.JPG</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lotus/">Buddha smiling</a>.</span><br /><p>I knew this would be a very unusual Christmas... in fact I thought I might not have any kind of Christmas at all.<br /><br />I was quite ok with this when I planned to leave for this internship. Most often I have a hard time trying to enjoy the holidays at all. I am very fortunate to be invited for Christmas with friends, but I can not completely shake the sadness of not having a family of my own to spend the holidays with. So, in truth I was kind of looking forward to skipping the whole thing. Being in Kuala Lumpur, though, I have met a group of excellent young people and they invited me to their Christmas eve party. We had a secret santa gift exchange with the added component of writing a poem for your recipient and everyone brought some typical Christmas food from their country. We ended up with Turkey (although it was a very small one by Canadian standards), pasta salad, mashed potatoes, coca-cola rice (it's Colombian), bacon wrapped green beans, squash (which I brought and several people had never head of), sausages, noodles, salad, ham, stollen, watermelon, and of course beer and chocolate. There was representatives from both the northern and southern hemispheres, hence the mix of what we would consider hot and cold weather food.<br /><br />The poetry was probably the best part of the night as most people took the opportunity to roast their friends a bit. My santa ended up being someone who I had never met so he was at a bit of a loss about what to write.<br /><br /><br />Florine, I don't know who are are<br /><br />That's why I didn't buy you a car.<br /><br />But I did look high and far<br /><br />And found a gift that's up to par.<br /><br />Merry Christmas and happy holidays<br /><br />There is no snow, no sleighs<br /><br />In this country called Malaysia<br /><br />But hope you like this gift<br /><br />From your secret Santa.<br /><br /><br />He followed my wish list and got me a Bollywood CD -thanks Santa!<br /><br />So this morning I woke realising that I had had way too much mulled wine or, gluhwein as it is called in Germany--- or maybe it was the two champagne floats (spoom), but in anycase my Christmas day has been one of fuzzyheadedness sitting by the pool and now watching movies. And yes, I am sad to say I have a sunburn for Christmas, but all told this very strange Christmas is pretty ok.<br /><br />I hope you are all celebrating in the way that you want to and enjoying the holidays to the full.</p>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-53160913912958989902006-12-07T18:51:00.000+07:002006-12-07T18:59:26.333+07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.explodingdog.com/dumbpict51/homesickagain.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.explodingdog.com/dumbpict51/homesickagain.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Forgive me but I am going to take a break from blogging for a while. There are a few reasons:<br /><ol><li>I am going through a rough patch and I don't want to air all of my negative thoughts on the internet</li><li>Almost noone emails me any more and I attribute that to this blog<br /></li><li>I am pretty homesick and just not inspired<br /></li></ol>So, I am sure this will not last much longer. In the meantime send me an email and let me know that you are out there. Maybe you have a question or two about life in KL that I could get into writing about here.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-62659408282712331472006-11-25T20:33:00.000+07:002006-11-26T09:05:41.423+07:00Another weekend in KL.<br /><br />I am <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">house sitting</span> for Lu this weekend, which is more of a favour to me than her, given that I am living in an apartment so empty it doesn't even have a fridge. It has been a tough week having to eat out every meal and working late because I don't have much to come home to.<br />So this weekend I am relishing in all the great things about having a fully-stocked house to yourself. Doing some cooking, watching TV, listening to music and practicing cartwheels and handstands in the living room. (What, you don't do that?)<br />I am trying to take it easy because work is crazy with the meeting in Jakarta being up-scaled to include more people and my report from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">FIGO</span></span> conference due the following week.<br />That being said, I feel like should really be doing some transcribing for that now, since I don't have much else on the go, but I find it so terribly painful.<br />It is kind of the way of life here to take work home (not something I would normally do). It is easy to become overly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">focused</span> and stressed about work when it needs to make up for all of the other things that might be missing in your life as an expat. Not to say that I don't have a social life, but I don't have the same network or familiar <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">rhythm</span> of days and weeks. There is also the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">NGO</span> martyrdom phenomenon and accompanying guilt to contend with of course.<br />But as long as there is MTV and living room gymnastics I should be able to avoid this beast for a while longer.<br /><br />Addendum:<br />I should mention that my housing issue has finally been resolved (although who knows when the next one will be as these kinds of things seem to shape my life!). After having resolved to move into the YWCA dorm for my last 3 months in Asia, I have been offered to move in with some other interns. This is what I was holding out for the whole time and so of course it didn't work out until I had made another plan. I will be leaving <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">Bangsar</span> for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">Brickfields</span> on Monday or Tuesday. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">Brickfields</span> is the same area that I work in, which will make life very easy indeed.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1163678170793362842006-11-16T18:44:00.000+07:002006-11-16T18:56:10.803+07:00Today I stepped out from the foyer of my building to walk down to the LRT and scuttle my way back to Bangsar when I came across a sight that you definately would not find in Canada.<br />A guy a in a black t-shirt and jeans carrying a full-on <span style="font-weight:bold;">machine gun</span> walking down the street. I find it alarming when I come across the common sight of security guys with these things in the doorway of expenisive stores, but this was more than I was ready for. I felt like running back to the building to put some concrete between myself and this alarming sight, but managed to keep my cool.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1163319504216412112006-11-12T14:39:00.000+07:002006-11-12T15:20:47.866+07:00This week I have been hard at work for the ARROW-<a href="http://www.figo.org/">FIGO</a> (International Federation of Gynecology and Obstetrics) parallel forum. If nothing more comes out of this internship, I can at least say that I have finally memorized the correct spelling of "parallel"-- a spelling blindspot since childhood!<br />Of course things of much greater importance were learned and discussed in this four-evening forum on sexual and reproductive rights and health in Malaysia. All of the evenings had presentations from both local activists and professionals and visiting FIGO experts. <br />The first night was on the unmet need for contraception in Malaysia, the second on violence against women in respect to their reproductive health and rights, the third was on health sector reform (privatization), and the last night was on the feminization of HIV/AIDS.<br />All of the night inspired discussion and I think that the series was particularly effective because it was clear that it was not all just preaching to the converted. There was one doctor there who was willing to stand up and argue a counter-point to the views expressed by the panel, and I always think that is a good sign.<br />My role in the whole thing was to act as "rapporteur", so I was busily recording, taking notes, and trying to understand the bigger picture so that I can ultimately write a decent report on the event's proceedings and the recommendations that come out of it.<br /><br />Through this process I learned that Malaysia doesn't have a comprehensive sexual education program in schools, that contraception (i.e. the pill) is only available to married women and that while you can get an abortion in a private clinic, it is expensive and public hospitals are unlikely to provide one despite Malaysia's relatively liberal law (abortion is allowed if the physical or mental health of the woman is at stake). It seems that decision makers would prefer to think that young un-married people are not having sex... a little unrealistic perhaps. Condom use here seems also to be an issue as I learned that many think that they are only to be used with sex workers, which may be a factor in the rising proportion of married women who are becoming infected with HIV, as they find it difficult to get their husbands to use condoms even if they are involved in risky activities like intravenous drug use.<br /><br />It has been great to learn so much, but this week I have the unglamorous task of transcribing all the recordings. At the same time I am still working on organizing this evaluation meeting for the project in Indonesia. It seems more things keep coming up with that and so I feel like I am treading water with it. The meeting will be taking place on Dec 4 and 5, which is closing in on us now. Hopefully this will all pull together in the next couple of weeks.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1162126825530084202006-10-29T20:54:00.000+07:002006-10-29T20:00:25.530+07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5825/499/1600/bangsar%20market.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5825/499/320/bangsar%20market.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Not much to report, but it has been a while since I've written, so here goes.<br /><br />This weekend has been pretty chilled out. On Saturday I mostly stayed at home, planned for my trip to Vietnam with Jono (62 days and counting!), played my flute and went for a swim. I met my co-worker Lu for dinner with her cousins that are visiting. Lu's family is from Brazil but these guys live in the UK now. We went for banana leaf tali and hung out in Bangsar. Never in my life have I eaten as much Indian food as I do here. Generally, I have some form of it everyday. It is pretty much the cheapest and tastiest thing going. We had a full dinner with non-alcoholic drinks for 8 Ringget a person (less than $3 CAD). If you are drinking alcohol, that brings you way up into a different price bracket. There must be a very high tax on it or price controls or something because you pay pretty much the same you would in Canada, which is totally out of step with the cost of everything else. I think it is part of the living in a Muslim country thing.<br />Today I went to yoga and to the Bangsar <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pasar_malam">pasar malam</a> and met Lu, Danielle and Ali again for a dinner of <a href="http://www.indianfoodforever.com/snacks/masala-dosa.html">dosas</a> and satay--- how Malaysian is that!<br /><br />The other day in a taxi coming home from work with Michelle, the driver advised us that Malaysia is not the place to go on a diet because there is far too much good food here. After saying this he looked in the rearview at me and said "oh, you've got such chubby cheeks, you must love food". I wasn't sure whether or not to be offended by that. After looking over this post it seems that eating was the biggest part of my weekend, so it proves his point.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1161331629001265312006-10-20T14:56:00.000+07:002006-10-22T21:54:23.880+07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.justmono.com/rocker.jpg"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.justmono.com/rocker.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />After being in Vietnam for several months I have become unaccustomed to seeing people who are more crafted in their look and attitude. Kind of a strange situation after living in Vancouver for the last couple of years and growing up in Victoria as well. Lip-piercings, tattoos, asymmetrical haircuts, and types of retro-rehashing are things that my life has been completely devoid of since leaving Canada.These external trappings tend to go along with seeing local bands, which is exactly what I was doing last night. A friend of a friend of an acquaintance organizes a show for local bands the third Thursday of every month at <a href="http://laundrybar.blogspot.com/">Laundry Bar</a> in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petaling_Jaya">Petaling Jaya</a> and calls this undertaking <a href="http://projectbazooka.com/#">Project Bazooka</a>. I think this is a great thing because I am sure that in a relatively conservative environment like Malaysia, not many venues are begging to have local rockers play. They have different groups play at every show, which takes place on the third Thursday of the month. <br />Last night there were three bands, first was called Seven and they were kind of soulful and funky with a saxophone accompanying the typical vocals and guitar set up; this one was my favorite. Best of all, the lead singer had a really impressive ‘fro, especially for an Asian guy. The next band called themselves Edge of Fire and they were more along the emo side of things, a little derivative but the leader had a great voice and technique for the style. The last group was kind of a “nu metal” a la Korn and they took themselves a little too seriously, but it was still entertaining. Going by the name Dragon Red, this group were the headliners and played two sets, the first being acoustic, which felt a little MTV-unplugged with the singers on stools their voices faltering in unfamiliar musical territory. For their second set one of the singers put on this big black leather glove covered in plates of shiny metal…. Just in case you were not sure of the tone they were trying to set with the tunes. He kept bulging out his eyes and flicking his dreadlocks around in an attempt to look a little crazy, but I felt like I was seeing something that had been practiced in the mirror a few too many times and I couldn’t help but thinking about how all these guys probably still live at home. Anyway, I had a great time and was happy to support the local scene regardless of the style of music or stage antics.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1161248908712243592006-10-19T16:01:00.000+07:002006-10-19T17:45:52.916+07:00Updates, lah<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pape/193641897/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/71/193641897_dabc232579_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pape/193641897/">Malaysia</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/pape/">Fabio Sabatini</a>. </span></div>This week, as much as things are better than they were, I feel like I am done. I have interesting work and I am meeting people and nothing is going wrong at all (aside from housing uncertainty), but I am tired. I don't really feel like learning a new language and understanding a new culture again. I left it all on the road in Vietnam (in running parlance) and now I am carrying on with an empty tank in terms of cultural adjustment. I need to keep reminding myself that I am here for only a short time and I should relish it.<br />In truth, here in KL with expats a-plenty I don't really have to adjust that much, but it feels lame just to live in a Western enclave and not actually get to know this place or the people.<br />Work is a pretty good opportunity to get to know some locals and I (along with the rest of the staff) have been invited to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deepavalli">Deepavalli</a> dinner at the ED's place this weekend, so that is pretty great. <br />Being at work has helped me to start understanding the Malaysian accent better, if not Bahasa Malayu it self. People seem to like to insert the sound "lah" into their sentences here. An example might be "You don't need to heat the nasi goreng, lah, it is already hot, lah."<br /><br /><br />Also, does anyone have any good resources on participatory project evaluation?<br clear="all" />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1160900528172808702006-10-15T15:15:00.000+07:002006-10-15T15:30:20.590+07:00confluence<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nineam/172028279/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/52/172028279_6375f9c138_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nineam/172028279/">home</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/nineam/">nineam</a>. </span></div>As I mentioned on Flickr, Kuala Lumpur means "muddy confluence" of course referring to the two main rivers flowing through what is now KL. I have been thinking about that phrase a lot today, but less in terms of waters ways and more in terms of people.<br />Malaysia is a confluence of three main cultures, Malay, Chinese and Indian...although I wouldn't describe their relationship muddy. It seems there is a high level of tolerance for others but not much mixing.<br />The expats scene, so far feels much muddier to me. The people I have gotten to know are from South America, Australia and Europe for the most part (with a few Canadians and Africans thrown in) and one humorous aspect of this mix for me is that I never know how to greet people. It seems there has been a compromise established where people generally give a kiss on each cheek. But with people like me coming from more of a hugging culture, and others who go for three kisses, or those who are more up for a handshake, some interesting interchanges take place. I have found myself shaking hands, giving a hug and kissing someone's cheek all at the same time. I am so not smooth and cosmopolitan with all of this!<br /><br />In other news, I have joined a gym here...and not just any gym but the super-duper ultra-swish Jackie Chan California Fitness gym! There are huge posters of Jackie Chan doing handstands and lifting weights, inspiring you to push your self to become a martial arts super star! There is a wall display of JC's accomplishments and accolades. It is pretty hilarious, but they gave me a good deal, it is in a good location and Michelle has a membership there as well. We ran on the treadmill on Friday and it was the first time I have run since I left Canada. Today I went to a really excellent yoga class there as well. An Indian practice taught by Chinese instructor to Malay and Chinese class (except for me, the random foreigner).<br clear="all" />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1160220259873147882006-10-07T18:17:00.000+07:002006-10-07T18:38:48.726+07:00Action!<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joshi-porgy/33112698/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/22/33112698_38e91eadec_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joshi-porgy/33112698/">Haze3_Bangsar</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/joshi-porgy/">joshi-porgy</a>. </span></div>I have been in a bit of a haze since I arrived in Malaysia... both literally and figuratively. Being in a new place and not getting enough sleep has left me a little fuzzy, and the city has been cloaked in a <a href="http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2006/10/7/nation/15661601&sec=nation">smokey haze</a> resulting from Indonesia's slashing and burning. The two countries do not just share a religion and language, but also air quality apparently.<br /><br />Both hazes aside, things continue to go well for me here. I have decided to work on the Indonesia project because I know I can do it and it would be more helpful to the organization. I will be facilitating the closure of a multi-year project that has brought together 7 women's NGOs across the diverse country to build their capacity to advocate on women's health issues. Each organization has taken one issue (access to contraception, safe abortion or <a href="http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2006/10/7/nation/15661601&sec=nation">obstetric fistula</a> for example) and written an article based on research from their community and they have been compiled into a book. The book is just about ready to be published so my role is to bring the groups together and coordinate an evaluation and closure/next steps planning. I think this means that I will get to go to Indonesia (Jakarta) in November. The passport is getting a lot of stamps, which is very exciting for someone who had never left North America before this year!<br />Today I moved into my new semi-permanent abode. I am sharing a three bedroom apartment in Michelle's building with two expat guys, one Brazilian and one Aussie. They seem like nice boys. I think they both work a lot and go out a lot so we might not see eachother much. I will be there for the next two months before the place is handed over to new owners and I have got to be on the search again. Initially I was not into this idea, but now that I am here I just want to get into work and not have to go into a full scale house hunt at the same time I am getting used to everything. I have a really huge room with my own bathroom and I am only 20 mins from work.<br /><br />Last night I met a woman who is working as a child welfare officer for <a href="http://www.unhcr.org/news/NEWS/44b7c41d4.html">UNHCR</a> and she is basically acting as a social worker, interviewing refugee/migrant kids and trying to get them the services and support they need here. It seems that this is a pretty big issue here with many people fleeing from Myanmar but the Malaysian government is not officially accepting or serving them from what I understand. This work sounds very interesting to me as it combines individual social work problem solving with a much broader global social justice issue. That is totally something I would be interested in doing at some point down the line. Maybe I could convince Jono to take some time off to do this with me in the future.<br />I look forward to coming home to Canada but I can see myself wanting to work abroad again-- but not by myself next time!<br clear="all" />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1159797190801257572006-10-02T20:46:00.000+07:002006-10-04T22:05:40.766+07:00Bangsar KL<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hnix/101651186/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/42/101651186_5614695d09_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hnix/101651186/">Night shot</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/hnix/">hnix</a>. </span></div>I feel like 1.5 hours on the plane has transported me to another planet. There are cars, malls, LRT, organic groceries, orderly traffic and even ikea. There is also a very nice park nearby Michelle's place where I could go running. As much as Vietnam was a broadening and unique experience, I am glad to be here. I feel like I have a better sense of how I can live my life here... I feel a little more in my element, although it is still different enough to be interesting. Now I just need to find a place to live.<br /><br />Today was my first day at <a href="http://www.arrow.org.my">ARROW</a>and it went well as far as first days go. I have the usual feeling of being overwhelmed by new information and bewilderment about my role, and everyone elses for that matter. I am going to be working on one of two projects. The first is a regional group aiming to build partnerships and increase grassroots women's NGOs capacity to conduct research and evidence-based advocacy in South Asia, the second option is doing similar work but exclusively in Indonesia. When I met with the director today she told me that she would prefer that I work on the Indonesia project, but it looks like I would really need to take the helm on that one as they are currently without a program officer. The first program has one, but she is swamped and could use some help in writing and research in particular. I basically need to choose whether I want to further my experience in program coordination (which I was doing at the Y) or step into research. I am having a hard time with that choice because if I had no other info I would choose the research and working with someone option rather than the coordination and doing it myself option. The trouble is that I can see that the organization could use my help and really I came into this second chance at an internship being open to anything. When it comes down to it I am happy to be doing working at all! I am very impressed with ARROW's organization in terms of getting me set up. I already have a workspace, a server log-in, an email address and work to do.<br />Things are picking up at last!<br clear="all" />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1159546307960733802006-09-29T23:05:00.000+07:002006-09-29T23:14:01.403+07:00Last night in Vietnam<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/cowboyneal/138107484/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/50/138107484_436c97c224_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/cowboyneal/138107484/">saigon</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/cowboyneal/">jaymce</a>. </span></div>I leave for Kuala Lumpur tomorrow and I feel some trepidation, some relief, some sadness.<br />The last few days have reinforced my assertion that Vietnamese hospitality knows no bounds. I have been shown so much kindness here, from the TVU folks to my Tra Vinh landlady (who reimbursed my September rent and had a dress tailored for me as a going-away present) to the women on the bus to shared their fruit, gum and scented oils on my many trips to HCMC. People here have given me directions, translated for me, driven me around, carried my bags, given me free stuff and advised me on purchases. Once you get used to this place it can really grow on you. It has, of course, been tough going, as you all are well aware if you have been reading this blog, but it certainly isn't because people are unfriendly.<br />That being said, I am glad that I am going to have work soon, because as much as one might bemoan its trials, being without it is worse in many ways.<br />In KL I will stay with a former intern Michelle and her fiance while I look for a room to rent. It seems that is how to live affordably as an intern in that city, so it will be roommates for me once more. <br />First on the list will be to get a new SIM card for my phone, because as I learned in Cambodia, without it I feel like I have lost a limb. What can I say, I live for communication.<br />Wish me luck as I take the next, of what seems to be many, plunges into the unknown. What a year, and we still have a quarter left!<br clear="all" />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1159182635232224732006-09-25T18:04:00.000+07:002006-09-25T18:16:56.123+07:00Cambodia<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dcgreer/216435608/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/86/216435608_f9e6ffc7d1_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dcgreer/216435608/">Phnom Penh, Cambodia</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/dcgreer/">dcgreer</a>. </span></div>Ever since I set out on this trip across the VN border I have had the Dead Kennedys song <a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/deadkennedys/holidayincambodia.html">"Holiday in Cambodia"</a> running through my mind.<br />Unlike in Vietnam where past violence has faded away from the feeling of the place, in Cambodia it hangs like a shadow in every corner. Or so it seems to me...<br />Cambodia and Vietnam have many similarities: the markets, the buildings, some cultural traits, but I definately feel like I am in a different and more edgy place. Chantal doesn't walk anywhere at night, and she tells me of acid attacks and murders, rampant prostitution and AIDS. Of course things like this exist in VIetnam but it is not on the surface by any stretch. The government has a firm control on things there, whereas here with all of the corruption and past chaos that is more difficult.<br />But really I am here to spend time with Chantal and see how she lives. Chantal is definately super-hosting me and she has a really nice 2-bedroom beautifully decorated place, and the area that she is living in is interesting because it looks like it is going through some change. New buildings are going up and you can see small wooden one-room houses alongside concrete buildings of several floors. Somewhat disconcerting is the shanty area nearby where Chantal tells me the construction workers live with their families. I wonder where they go when the construction is finished and how they access clean water etc. <br />Our two internship experiences could not be more different, as she is perhaps over-worked and over-directed, whereas I had no work and no direction at all. Either extreme is certainly problematic. Being here I am kind of just living life with her, meeting her friends and hanging out at her place, rather than going out to see the city much. This suits me fine, although I hope that Chantal will be able to get away from her work for a bit to show me around tomorrow. Then I can get a sense of this place in more solid terms.<br clear="all" />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1158932680553352072006-09-22T19:57:00.000+07:002006-09-25T13:56:03.993+07:00Rozee and I were joking the other day about my recent penchant for giving myself nicknames based on my location, so I need one to reflect status being AWOL and therefore not Tra Vincognito... MC-HCMC, HoChi-mamma? That is terrible I know but this is what happens when I am left to entertain myself for too long!<br />In any case tomorrow morning I am actually leaving this favorite city of mine to visit another intern (Chantal) in Cambodia. I am very excited and I think it is really time to shake things up a bit interms of my locale. I have spent so much time at this hotel in HCMC that even the xe om drivers and the street vendors know me here. That is saying something for an area that has so many foreign visitors (and really all white people look the same don't they?).<br />The trip from Ho Chi Minh to Phnom Penh by the regular bus takes about 8 hours, but the express bus takes six... although the travel agency seemed to think that it was likely that the regular bus could make it in 7 hours... I felt a little bamboozeled and so I decided to go with the regular bus instead of paying twice as much for a difference in speed that I feel a bit skeptical of. I may regret that choice, only time in a rattling tin-can bus will tell.<br />Dave asked me what sights I was planning to see in Phnom Penh and what my touring itinerary was. To this question I had only one response: "Don't you know me by now?". First of all I am not much one for detailed planning ahead, secondly my style of travel usually includes a lot more people watching in coffee shops than seeing of sights. I am usually more interested in trying to get a taste for how people live. After all the time I have spent in HCMC I have gone to only two sights, the <a href="http://www.trade.hochiminhcity.gov.vn/ENG_NEWS_WWW/news_detail.asp?period_id=1&cat_id=100&news_id=2022">War Remnants Museum</a> and the <a href="http://travel.yahoo.com/p-travelguide-2900620-reunification_palace_ho_chi_minh_city-i">Reunification Palace</a>. Maybe this is just an excuse for being lazy; you can draw your own conclusions!<br />I plan to stay in Cambodia until Wednesday when I hope to do the whole trip through to Tra Vinh from Phnom Penh so that I can pack up there, say my goodbyes and then be back in HCMC to fly out on Friday to Kuala Lumpur. But any of this could change at a moment's notice, a possibility I am prepared for these days! The security clearance has not come through yet for my new placement, but CAPI is hopeful that will happen soon.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1158566146318471412006-09-18T14:49:00.000+07:002006-09-19T00:20:59.110+07:00So Street<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49503024385@N01/208886516/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/65/208886516_561b9d3867_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49503024385@N01/208886516/">Le Loi intersection HCMC</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/49503024385@N01/">Flostyle</a>. </span></div>"You look like an angel!"<br />A guy actually followed me down the street today repeating this phrase, interspersed with questions about my age, nationality, name etc.<br />Since I have gotten rather bored of being asked such questions all the time by people trying to sell me something, I have started throwing them back at the asker rather than responding. Smith, 32 from Togo was quite sure I was heaven-sent but I wasn't so sure about him. That being said, I am getting tired of being alone, so I chatted with him a bit, but stayed on my guard. After a few minutes, I went on my way and watched for a bit as he sought his next celestial being.<br /><br />This leads me to think about other aspects of walking down a street in HCMC.<br /><br />On the street here in the tourist district you find many people interested in selling you various forms of copy-right infringement, lottery tickets, zippos, postcards, gum, manicures, foreign newspapers, bobble-head dolls, hair clips, fans, Tin-tin t-shirts, sunglasses, massages, and even bras. Yes ladies, you can rummage through a baskets of bras carried about town on two poles in typical Vietnamese fashion. I have watched as women make their selections by holding the items up to themselves or putting the bra on over their shirts in the middle of the sidewalk. I am reminded of another WUSC volunteer telling me that she was even in a small store once to buy a bra and she asked the sales clerk if she could try it on. The clerk looked at her and agreed but just stood there and watched, waiting for her to try it on right there.<br /><br />On the street in HCMC is also where I met one of the most fluent English speakers I have come across here. He looks about 10 years old, which probably means he is 13, and he wanted to sell me some postcards at first. This was on my first visit to the city and I actually wanted some and so I obliged. But as soon as I entered into the interaction with him he changed his objective and asked me if I would take him into a posh mall nearby to buy him some milk. At first I thought, well of course I could buy him some milk, he even said he wanted milk as payment for the postcards and I thought that would be great. But then he told me that the reason he wanted milk as payment was because the security guards wouldn't let him into the mall by himself to buy it. I asked him why and he told me it was because they thought he would steal something. This made me think twice and so I offered to go into the store and buy him some milk he could wait outside. He refused because he said that I couldn't possibly know what kind of milk he wants and so he would have to accompany me to the store. When I asked him to tell me and promised I would remember the exact kind of milk, he stuck to his story that he needed to come with me. Having myself been a kid who tried to get money from tourists and strangers I realized I was indeed dealing with a wily character so I gave him 10,000 Dong for the cards and wished him luck.<br clear="all" />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1158299962332619052006-09-15T12:53:00.000+07:002006-09-18T08:39:25.130+07:00A quick update<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49503024385@N01/243641007/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/90/243641007_76b2933e95_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49503024385@N01/243641007/">HB Flo</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/49503024385@N01/">Flostyle</a>. </span></div>Ok things are kind of a mess still but they are a little clearer now. WUSC wants me to stay on but haven't really made it clear how anything will improve. The thought of going back into such a disorganized situation is really unappealing so I am hoping that the option of transferring works out.<br /><br />It looks like it will be to Kuala Lumpur because the organization is in better situation to recieve me than the one in Chiang Mai. After being in Hoi An for the last couple of days, which is a bit of a backpacker town, I think I will be happier in KL. It is a big city, but I am used to that these days. I am still not sure that it will go ahead but it is likely and I may move by the end of the month.<br /><br />My birthday was nice. Dave and Swee Lin took me to the ballet on Saturday night but they left the next morning, so I spent most of the day by myself. On a whim I decided to treat myself to a couple of <a href="http://static.flickr.com/98/243661048_6b638f058d.jpg">Ao Dai</a>, the beautiful traditional Vietnamese oufit. They are quite lovely and I hope I can figure out an appropriate occasion for them. <br />When I returned to my hotel after my final fitting, the hotel staff presented me with this bouquet of roses and note. Very sweet!<br clear="all" />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1157675600937057872006-09-08T07:26:00.001+07:002006-09-08T07:33:20.950+07:00Sorry for the distinct lack of posting going on here in Tra Vinh... I wish I could say that it is because things are going well at work. I have been busier because the other Canadian volunteers are here in an attempt to help me get this project off the ground, but unfortunately we have been blocked by higher-ups. Things have deteriorated to the point that CAPI has decided to move my internship to another organization.<br />They are looking at sending me to Chiang Mai or to Kuala Lumpur. Originally they were talking Bangkok but I think that now has been set aside.<br />I hope to have a bit more time this weekend to write, but I am going back to HCMC and the volunteers have invited me to the ballet for my birthday on Sunday.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1156606760679125352006-08-26T22:25:00.000+07:002006-08-27T16:40:21.123+07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.vietfun.com/postcards/vnsingers/6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.vietfun.com/postcards/vnsingers/6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Tonight I had the honor and the pleasure of attending a local talent show of sorts. It was a competition between four school groups, one was a Khmer group, one was from Cang Long high school, another a local high school and finally TVCC. It was quite a spectacle with much choreography, props and lovely girls in Ao Dais and stoic guys foisting-high red flags emblazoned with the hammer and sickle.<br />I have learned in my time here that Vietnamese people really love singing. There is no way that I could overstate the prevalence of singing here, be it in Karaoke, in a show like tonight or just as the inspiration strikes in everyday life. Maybe it is related to the whole tonal language thing...<br />In any case the TVCC English club is organizing a soiree of their own in a few weeks and true to form, this will include singing. The students have been trying to convince me to sing an English song at the meetings pretty much from the beginning. I mercifully have been saving them from this kind of aural abuse, but now I have some how gotten talked into singing at the party. I am not sure if any of you have ever heard me sing... and there is a good reason for that. But what the hell.<br /><br />Most people here favour singing very romantic or sentimental songs, the more they can emote the better. Just to shake things up I am fantasizing about busting out something angry like "Enter Sandman" or maybe something non-sequitur from Neutral Milk Hotel... Kate Bush? Maybe some artful wailing? Anyway, your suggestions, serious or humorous are much appreciated. Comment away faithful readers!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29633909.post-1156248875049438342006-08-22T19:09:00.000+07:002007-04-25T01:48:58.234+07:00<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49503024385@N01/221919476/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/92/221919476_8f67b4de58_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" > <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49503024385@N01/221919476/">Classroom Sattelite of Binh Phu A</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/49503024385@N01/">Flostyle</a>. </span></div>After CAPI associates Helen and Peter visited me last week things have started to move a bit here in Tra Vinh in terms of work.<br />Yesterday and today Quyen and I visited 3 main schools and 6 sattelite schools. Generally rural schools are managed by bigger more accessible schools and the schools together have one PTA and head teacher. Sometimes teachers are shared between the school sites. It is pretty incredible that schools are able to function well given the infrastructure they are working with... or lack there of. Many of these schools have one almost bare room and some battered benches with a chalkboard and that is it. No running water, no outhouse, no electricity, no maintenance staff, no playground. Many of the students are not able to afford books, fees and uniforms. (I am questioning the why resources must be spent to have uniforms when they have to compete with the need to buy books and pens.)<br />Anyway the whole scene is pretty spartan, as I am sure it is in most rural schools around the world. We are visiting before school starts, so I am sure that it will be a less drab place once it is filled with kids!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1