Oahu, Hawai’i: Changes in (L)attitutde

We had a week long crossing from Japan to Hawai’i. Mostly to save fuel and give everyone a chance to process where we’ve been and get ready for where we’re going. We’re talking about wrapping it up, bringing it home, turning out the lights. Next-to-last stop: The Land of Aloha.

After being greeted in so many special ways as we’ve dropped anchor in so many ports around the world (the barefoot little band in India, the ladies of Vietnam in their conical hats), we dock in Hawai’i and disembark to…a woman with a sign for “Free Shuttle to Wal Mart!” Damn, this is exactly why I’m not ready to be back. Really? The first thing we see when we get back to the US is an advertisement for us to spend money as a group at the one place (besides McDonald’s) that symbolizes American Consumerism at its best/worst? (Don’t get me wrong, I love Wal Mart).

Anyway, I joined up with a group that was headed to the beach. One of our staff colleagues is a Hawai’ian local and she and her fiance set up a tour for us complete with ATM and Coffee shop stops. The main focus was to get to the beach and kayak out to some small islands off the coast. The day started out overcast but Lesley (our colleague) and her fiance Matt put sunshine on the itinerary with their hospitality and generosity. First stop…Nuuanu State Park for some scenic overlook time. Watching the mountains shrouded in mist contrast with the deep blue of the ocean is a scene I could never tire of.

Next stop Coffee! at Morning Brew, a sweet little local place with vegetarian breakfast bagels (sundried tomato cream cheese, sprouts, and capers on an everything bagel for me) and a Vanilla Chai that would make you slap your best friend. We hit the ATM and saw US dollars being spit out at us for the first time since January. My laptop power cord crapped out sometime in Japan and I was trying to track down a replacement as well, but to no avail. I didn’t want to spend a single second on errands when it could be spent on fun. The other 12 took Matt and Lesley up on their offer of a kayaking expedition. I declined noting the choppy looking waves, lack of lifeguard, and my excellent sinking skills which hamper my swimming talent. Instead they dropped me at a quiet side beach known mostly to locals with promises to pick me up in a few hours. 

I was looking forward to a few hours of solo down time, a precious comodity on the ship. As usual I had a book (Backpack), my iPod, and my cameras, and this time, some beer money and a beach towel. The sun was finally out in full force but playing hide and seek behind the clouds. In the ultimate nod to never being alone on Semester at Sea, after I had stepped 3 feet onto the beach two of my students yelled “Hey Dia!” and I was like “oooh lawd-I can’t get away from these crumbsnatchers!” but I ended up having a great time with J and E (my students) and their friend Olley and their band of local friends. So in the spirit of comaraderie, I chipped in for a couple of Corona (or three), dug out my sunglasses and settled in for some exposure to local culture. Hawai’ans are…different, not in a bad way, but their lifestyle is all about family and outdoor activities. People either have lots of money or are making it day by day. I enjoyed how animated the Hawai’ian students were, how in love with their island life and family focus they are. They embraced me without question, offered me food and drink and entertained my dozens of questions without complaint. Finally I relaxed out of “tourist” mode (and even though Hawai’i is a US state…if you don’t grow up there…you’re a tourist or “Haole”).

My favorite part of the day though was when the skies grew dark and the rain poured down from the heavens. The six of us took cover under a Hobie Cat boat that had a tarp over the top of it. We laughed as we arranged ourselves in the small space and I joked that my “dear black family” letter back home describing being covered in white sand, afro full of sand, beer full of sand, on a beautiful beach in Hawai’i isn’t a bad place to be. We had to take cover a couple of more times that afternoon, but the sun was strong enough to cause me to get sunburned on my face! I didn’t realize until a few days later, when I started to peel and my caramel complexion went two toned. No I don’t have any pictures of that.

My least favorite part of the day was when we all met up at the van in the late afternoon to the realization that the van had been burglarized. They got everything. Cameras, credit cards, cash in insane amounts, even one dude’s underwear! I didn’t lose anything since I dipped out and had my backpack with me. After the police were done with their questions and credit cards were cancelled, I treated the group to dinner to assuage my “survivor’s guilt” and ensure that they knew someone cared. Funnily enough, we had a gorgeous sunset dinner at Don Ho’s where we discovered that the famous musician had passed on just last month.

So yeah, welcome (back) to America, we made it around the world only to be greeted by Wal Mart and Grand Theft Auto, but also the “Aloha” spirit of strangers and the generosity of friends. The good old US of A, no better, no worse, than the rest of the world. Same same…but different. Next stop: San Diego!

Nara, Japan: Templed Out? or Out Templed?

 

There comes a time in every trip, every journey, every story where you’ve reached the limit of things you can absorb. I still can’t wrap my mind around Carnival in Brazil (February), Dancing in Mauritius (March), Volunteering at a school for the disabled in Vietnam (April) and I still have things to see.

Poetically, just when I thought I had nothing left in me to oooh and ahhh over another temple, synagogue, world heritage site or church…we head to Nara. At this point I was fighting off the germs the students had brought back to the ship in China, coming out of denial that this voyage must end, and that the end is coming sooner rather than later.

On the day when I most wanted to stay in bed, drinking orange juice, writing in my journal and sorting through the thousand pictures I’ve taken, I grabbed my Nikon, my iPod and hit the road. Mostly to spend time with Professor J and some students, and to soak up some of the springtime sun. It would be an understatement to say that I’m glad that I did. In that one day, I saw the oldest wooden temple on earth and the largest wooden temple on earth (pictured).

You have to walk a little way to get to the main temple. Through a maze of long-haired deer, so tame that they literally eat out of your hand. I was walking with my head down, full of the thoughts of all we’ve done and all we’ve seen in almost 4 months of circumnavigating the globe. Feeling like there was nothing left to surprise me and again, I was stopped in my tracks when the temple came into view. You can see from the scale of the picture how small the people are in comparison to the main building. I was so stunned that tears sprang to my eyes. All you can think about when you see the place is how many people, worked how many years, with how much wood, to build a shrine that encloses one of the largest Buddahs in the world.

One of the most fun things about going to all of the temples and shrines was seeing all of the school kids, dressed in matching outfits or hats, learning about their culture and history. The students were so excited to practice their “hellos” and “nice to meet yous” that we couldn’t resist delaying their education a bit and engaging them in the timeless game of intercultural introductions.

It was also fun watching them climb through the Buddah’s hole of enlightement.

We also visited a Shinto shrine that was a brilliant orange and the perfect place to watch the sun wane. I got to try a Shinto cleansing ritual, trying to remember to do each step in order to avoid offending any of the local people tending to their spiritual tasks.

I learned long ago, that I will never regret pushing through when I know I can, sitting still when I know I must, but it feels good to know that I know the difference between the two.

Osaka, Japan: Play Ball

  

We headed out to an evening baseball game at the Kyocera Dome Osaka. I loved the deep green of the turf against the vibrant orange of the baseball diamond. Attending a baseball game in Japan is one of the top 10 things you must do when you get the chance. I finally got to hang out with Drew, one of my staff colleagues and a fellow UVA grad (Go Hoos!). He is 3 years younger than I am, but we were both Resident Assistants in college so I knew him from our time on staff, something we both agree changed our lives.

I’ll be the first to admit that I am not a big baseball aficionado, I love going to games for the fresh air, beer and pretzels. The comaraderie of friends laughing in the sunshine. This was no different (minus the sun due to the dome being an indoor sort of thing). Very cool beer dispensing method!

It was fun to watch the Japanese fans root on the Orix Buffaloes (yes, they spell it with an “e”) with their numerous coordinated cheers, the HUGE team flags and their love for each player. Every.single.player. has his own song, and the fans know each one. It was great to crowd watch because in between bouts of riotous cheering the Japanese fans are very sedate and quiet. They are either all cheering together or totally quiet, there’s no random hootin’ and hollerin’, its all or nothing.

I had yak noodles and fried squid on a stick at the game, same same..but different (some of yall will get that!).

**In response to the comments: I’m not ready to come home yet, so I banish any such conversation on that topic!

Kobe, Japan: So Sushi

   

The weather in Kobe is gorgeous. Just perfect for strolling and hopping on and off the impressively spotless rail system. The people are all smiles and style. Everyone is rocking either the Armani businesswear or the Hipster kid/Hip Hop/Glam Grunge look. They definitely appreciate individuality and artistic expression. We hit up Uoyatei for some conveyor belt sushi. Real sushi, not that supermarket stuff (that I confess that I love). Fresh wasabi, sweet ginger, hot green tea – spring in Japan. Amazing.

Hong Kong: What Had Happened Was…

  

I loved all of your comments on the last few posts, though I couldn’t respond, they made me laugh all over again. I’ve added links to the pictures if you’re interested or at work with a free high-speed connection.

Hong Kong is like Manhattan x 100. Some things happened in Hong Kong that I just can’t even talk about. Not because it would compromise me you understand, but I’m protecting the people I was with.

I led a trip out to the Chinese Cuisine Training Institute (CCTI), which was amazing. CCTI is the elite culinary school in the region and when we stepped in the place you knew why. The facilities, head chef, cutie-pie chefs in training and fire, along with lots of amazing food made for a great afternoon of culture and cuisine. I spent the majority of my time trying to communicate with my Chinese chef partner and convincing him to let me turn up the flames on our dishes. We made a Sweet and Sour Pork and a Beef with Black Pepper Sauce. Yum, I mean like, make your eyes cross good. Like almost better than…nevermind. I think you get it. Anyway, I highly recommend a trip out to CCTI if you get a chance. And I’m falling in lurve with hot tea. There were dozens of varieties on display to smell and sample.

Hong Kong in general is pretty expensive but there are lots of knock-off markets, cheap deals on street food and lots of cheap beer. On the other hand, there was a LINE outside the damn Louis Vuitton store. A line people. Who has that kind of money?

Hong Kong is beautiful and the weather was cooler than we’ve had anywhere we’ve been so far except possibly south africa. Exempting the cooking class, we were in “dance” mode which turned into “karaoke” mode which turned into “who has the camera” mode. You know its going to be a late night when you go out for Chinese food at 10pm before hitting the club! It was funny walking around and seeing people carrying beers, winecoolers, etc and just sipping while they were strolling through the city blocks. This looked tempting, but I contained myself.

We ended up at a couple of different lounges hanging with locals who bought us fruity drinks, tequila sunrises and my favorite, whiskey with green tea (sounds terrible but it was nice and mellow). I went from singing my heart out to wondering how the hell the sun had managed to rise while we were laughing at ourselves (picture of aforementioned afro being groomed by G). There was nothing left to do except grab some early morning McDonald’s (yes, even in Hong Kong it was fabulous and necessary) and sleep a couple of hours before getting back into “adventure traveler” mode. Don’t judge me too harshly for having a good time. Sometimes you have to step out smelling extra good, with a little cash in your pocket and a terrible 80’s song in your heart. Yes, even me.

Beijing, China: Afro-licious

   

I decided not to buy these snacks (shrink wrapped chicken parts) before boarding my 22 hour overnight train to Beijing. Unfortunately I bought this (Diet Coke with Lemon) which tastes like a mix of lighter fluid and well…lemon. I really didn’t know what to expect of the train but I was woefully surprised when I realized that in China…they make things to their own physical proportions. So being 1.5 Chinese folks wide and about 3-6 inches taller I was in for a night of pure hell in terms of physical (dis) comfort. I had the last “hard” seat and there were no sleepers available. So I prepared myself for a long night of sitting upright with my legs crammed under a small table and a Chinese guy with the most awesome hair ever tucked up against my side. But here’s what happened:

The train was oversold so there were 13 of us in a space that “normally” would seat 10 people. I was the only American/non-Chinese person in a 200 mile radius. I hadn’t seen any of my SAS compadres in 2 days and I know 3 phrases in Mandarin (Hello, Thank You, You’re Welcome). I questioned the sanity of my solo travelling decision with no prospects for communication or company and a night with no sleep on the agenda. But, I ended up having the most hilarious time in my train car.

The Chinese are not a “warm and fuzzy” people. This at first took me slightly off guard being an over the top southern girl but I realized that if I lived with almost a billion people…I probably wouldn’t smile and say “hello” to anybody either, that’s a lot of grinning and waving. But the night on the train gave me the opportunity to observe the wonderfully warm, collectivist culture of the Chinese via two examples. First, in our car of 100+ people, 15 men didn’t have tickets for seats. So they were standing up, ostensibly for 15 hours. It never occured to me to proffer my seat to any of them but that is exactly what all the other men on the train did. All of the guys sitting in aisle seats would rise after a time and insist that a guy who was standing take his seat. Like they ordered them to sit down. There was no negotiation, no clock watching, no requests for someone to get out of their seats. For 22 hours I watched men who did not know each other, care for one another in the most basic way.

I was as you can probably imagine, quite the curiosity. Most Chinese people haven’t seen many, if any african americans and certainly none that are female, taller/larger than them and sporting an afro and settling into a cross-country train car like she belonged there. I got the normal stares and points and giggles (never mean spirited) that all of us of african american descent have gotten in Asia, but it didn’t bother me. I knew people were interested in my hair (huge afro at this point) and so I would bow and indicate that they could touch it and they did, which would send them and everyone else into a fit of giggles. Fun for them, fun for me. Breaking down cultural barriers one afro at a time (sounds like a t-shirt, no?). Plus, the guy sitting across from me was totally down with me stretching my legs out on either side of his to relieve my agony.

The second example of the warm Chinese spirit occured at dinner time. At about 9pm people started breaking out food from all sorts of places, one guy had drinks, another had some type of beef, someone else bought enough rice for all of us, and people started digging in. I was handed a pair of chopsticks and a spoon and via hand gesture, commanded to join in the food. Being my shy self I thanked them all, tossed in my ginormous bag of pretzels and a pack of gum, thanked the dude for the iced green tea, and joined them in the impromptu potluck. I should mention that only 4 of the 13 of us knew each other (two pairs of friends). So this was a touching moment for me, sap that I am.

After a while it emerged that two guys spoke a little english and a woman in our group of 13 spoke pretty good english. So the three of them served as translators. So while we sat up all night and I watched the guys play cards, someone would tell me the gist of what was going on in the conversations. They invited me to play cards, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out the game, so I settled for shuffling and cutting the deck for the guy who was losing. We talked about their culture (what they did and didn’t like), USA culture, movie stars, music, what we did for fun…the usual “getting to know you” stuff with a Mandarin twist.

After 22 hours, awake on a train (no rats this time!) I felt a comraderie with my seatmates and it must have been mutual because:

-Gabriel invited me to a wedding the next day (and followed through with the address, etc via e-mail)
-When it was time to get off the train there were hand clasps and smiles all around and one guy kept saying “they really like you”
-3 of the other 12 wouldn’t leave me until they deposited me at my hotel in Beijing, despite being tired, ready for food and a shower, they escorted me (literally) to my hotel
-I met up with the aforementioned 3 and 3 of their friends the next night to chow down and hang out
-Gabriel continues to e-mail me despite our language barrier, and my inability to attend the wedding (no formal clothes and a pre-booked day tour)

What I did in Beijing

1. After 3 nights of little to no sleep, sketchy hostel sheets and an afro and wardrobe full of cigarette smoke (they can smoke anywhere here in China), I checked myself into the very posh Beijing Hotel and rolled around on the very comfortable featherbed after a long shower.

2. The Great Wall. Amazing, inarticulable. Worth the 3 hour round trip drive but next time I will go to a less popular spot. There were thousands of people. It was like Disneyland on the 4th of July. But the pictures you’ve seen don’t come close to the spectacular hugeness and longness (i know they aren’t words!) of the wall. Its like when you see the Grand Canyon after only seeing pictures your whole life.

3. The Summer Palace. Set on a man made lake, it was a great way to cool off from clambering around the Great Wall and the architecture is amazing. The history had me totally engaged and wanting more.

4. Tianamen Square. Impressive in size but after 5 minutes you realize its just a piece of outside with an intriguing and important historical moment attached to it. It is framed by 4 important buildings though. 3 of which we couldn’t get into because they are renovating in preparation for the 2008 Olympics.

5. The Forbidden City. Large pictures of Chairman Mao and amazingly interesting history of this home to 3 Chinese dynasties. Over 9000 rooms, lots of Feng Shui and architectural elements and also about a million people visiting on the same day.

6. The Jade Factory. I didn’t like the fact that tour guides pretty much have to take you here in an attempt to get a captive audience to buy something. It reminded me of the rickshaw drivers in India. But I learned all about the different types of Jade, how to tell real from fake, how it is carved and polished and what they are used for, etc. Totally nerdtastic which you know I love. Then I said thanks and figured if they didn’t mind wasting my time without my permission, I shouldn’t feel bad about not buying something I didn’t want. Plus the cheapest thing in the place was $25 US for some knick knack crap. I still enjoyed it though.

7. The Pearl Factory. Same concept, same method of captive audience but again I loved learning all about the pearls, oysters, harvesting, real vs. fake, and I even got two tiny pearls for free!

Guanzhou, China: Beijing Dreams

 

I survived! Actually I thrived I think. Despite the sketchy hostel (with stains on the sheets!) and the traditional chinese mattress (imagine sleeping on top of your dining room table). I survived Guanzhou. I actually really enjoyed it. I ended up in Shiaman which is a little island/backpacker area. Despite the ramshackle internet room with the ancient computers and the loft that the semi-naked dude descended from giving me a scare. And I’ve never been anywhere that you could use the internet and then purchase a full-sized sword while you’re paying the bill!

A little about this lovably curious little place, Guanzhou is an area where many Americans and Europeans come to adopt children. There’s a US embassy, lots of businesses catering to these types of growing families and a pretty good chance that you’ll stumble across someone who speaks enough english to point you in the right direction. But I still don’t know what this sign is all about…Mexican siestas? Sad people of Latino descent? Sombrero store?

So after a night of red wine and pringles at the local 7-eleven with about 15 other multi-national knuckleheaded travelers, I can say that I am willing to go (almost) anywhere and try (almost) anything once. Katie and Jess (The Canadian sisters pictured in previous photo) scooped me up the next day and we wandered around. The park was full of locals playing hacky sack, dancing the tango (I swear I’m not making this up) and working out on these strange public exercise machines (think monkey bars and see saws with a health related twist).

We were near the canal so it was nice and breezy which made the walk around town pleasant. We checked out a huge church where there were some wedding photos being taken, the local statuary which was amazing, this one was my favorite, but there were quite a few stunning statues. I also found the greatest boot.leg. CD/DVD store on the planet and a place that sold pretzels and mini quiche to supplement my growing love for Chinese noodles and beef.

We worked up an appetite and stopped for lunch at a little place that didn’t look like it had a large crowd and despite the delicious food, we had to wonder if it was the Celine Dione CD that they were playing that kept business at bay? No matter to us, it was all about bottled water and fresh squeezed juices. We laughed and got to know each other over Indian, Chinese and European dishes that we shared without hesitation. Curries giving way to Cordon Bleu.

Both of them are amazing young women who have taken a 6 month sabbatical to travel Asia as they trace their father’s cultural heritage (they are half Chinese). We parted ways late afternoon so that they could catch their sleeper bus south and I could catch my train north. We hugged, traded e-mails and I made a tentative promise to meet them in Mexico later this year.

Unfortunately I couldn’t get a flight out of Guanzhou under $350 US, so I bought the last train ticket to Beijing leaving on an overnight 22 hour train. I guess this little independent side trip was going to go from bad to worse! I thought the train left at 8pm and fortunately I had to show the ticket to someone to ask which station I needed to go to and she pointed out that the train left at 6pm – crisis number 23 averted! I was also a bit proud of the fact that I had a regular sized back pack and my nikon d50 case, which meant that I was adhering to the backpacker moto (that I can never manage to follow) “never carry more than you manage at a dead run for a half mile and keep your hand free”. Score!

So I stuffed my newly acquired Blackeyed Peas “The Remixes” and the much talked about “Lily Allen” CDs next to the Chinese Hip Hop I had tracked down (not hard) and shoved pretzels and a ginormous bottle of water into my pack. I stuffed my towel into a stuff sack and strapped it to the outside of my pack and bid Guanzhou and its ill timed Trade Show Zai Jian (goodbye in Mandarin). But not before these students pulled me aside to ask me to complete a survey on the detrimental affects of beauty pagents on the self-esteem of Chinese youth. Because you know, that’s my area of expertise.

Somewhere In China

   

You see this monkey (pictured above)? I feel like that guy looks. CRAZY! I’m stuck between Hong Kong (AMAZING!) and Beijing (??). The ship docked in Hong Kong a few days ago, and everyone had the option of sailing with the ship to Qingdao or traveling overland/whatever and meeting back up with the ship before she sails to Kobe next week.

Er, guess which one I chose? Right.

I decided that after 3 months of traveling with 900 people (who I adore), I’d strike out on my own and see if I could get from Hong Kong to Beijing to Qingdao on my own. Craving the challenge of living out of a regular sized backpack and trying to navigate almost an entire continent with a wicked language barrier.

Now I find myself in some random metropolis dead in the middle of their major bi-annual Trade Show! I tried to get a room at the Holiday Inn because well…in the U.S. its like what $70 a night right? In China, not so much. They wanted $350 for one night! Granted it is the sexiest Holiday Inn I’ve ever seen. Stupid Trade Show!

So, I’m paying $70 night for a double room in a sketchy hostel and doing e-mail/trying to book tickets in the back room of a knick knack store on one of two ancient computers. There are exposed wires and extension cords EVERYWHERE!

The good news is that the Chinese LOVE McDonalds, 7-11 stores and neon lights. So if I squint real hard and blur my vision I can pretend I’m in Times Square or somewhere else where I’m reasonably sure things are going to work out okay.

PLUS! At 5 ft 6 inches I’m exactly average height for an American female, but I’m the shortest person in my family, but in China…being tall ROCKS!

Okay, I just met two Canadian chicks who said to meet them at the 7-11 in 45 minutes for beer, wine and to meet the multinational crowd of backpackers they hung out with last night. So, I guess that’s where I’ll be…at a random 7-11 somewhere in southern China, resisting sleep and praying for some transportation magic.

Wish me luck.

 ***Live Action Update (10 minutes later)

I’m sitting in the internet place and there’s a fairly low ceiling in here (maybe I’ll try to take a photo). Anyway, I just assumed that it was for extra storage, supplies, etc but I just heard some rustling and a grown man just climbed down from HIS LOFT BED naked from the waist up (in pajama pants), grabbed a mug that held a toothbrush and toothpaste (which I had noticed a while ago but didn’t think much about) and disappeared around the corner! You see that monkey’s face? Now add a look of surprise, the swemi-naked bed loft dude just reached over my head to turn on the lights and I can hear water running in the background. Lawd Jeebus. I’m outta here!

OH, I thought you said “Drinking Blogger Award!”

 

Though my internet connection is expensive, slow and generally non-existent, I’m still soaking up some linky-love! First, Marilyn over at California Fever tagged Funchilde for a “Thinking Blogger” award. As if that wasn’t enough, my colleague Adrienne from Gadling, nominated one of my shots from India for the “Photo of the Day” on April 14th.

So, as part of the “Thinking Blogger” award/meme, I’m supposed to nominate 5 (five) bloggers for this award. This is a virtually impossible task for me because I read so many and I only read blogs that make me laugh or make me think. So I’m going to highlight some blogs that I normally wouldn’t/don’t mention here.

Mad As Hell Club: I don’t even know how to describe this. Just read their description here. They aren’t happy with the way things are going and they’re using their brains and creative talent to give voice to some solutions and ideas. AND they are pretty funny if you like smart, fast, acerbic wit.

Lynne D. Johnson: If I wasn’t me, I’d want to be Lynne Johnson. She’s smart and her profile resonates with me, black, feminist, hip-hopper, nerd. She writes and publishes on several spaces/platforms and I have been following her off and on for about 2 years. I found her current platform through Swirl’s blogfeeds.

J. Brotherlove: Freelance writer, web designer, and all around smart guy. Love his socio-cultural view on events and personalities. Just when I think I’ve got something figured out, I wander over and J blows me away with his perspective.

Opinionistas: Reformed lawyer chick Melissa Lafsky in Manhattan. “A continuous examination of the ridiculousness of human behavior”-how could you not rush to check out something with a tagline like that? Her acerbic wit and biting commentary on the legal profession specifically, and mundane office work in general make me laugh and make me think about how I’m living my “work” life.

The Happiness Project: Gretchen’s posts are at once personal and intellectual, social commentary and scientific examination-all on the subject of happiness. She and I would have almost nothing in common except a love of reading from what I can tell (she doesn’t enjoy listening to music—WHAT?) but I dig the way her brain works and the tips, insights, quotes and struggles to obtain and maintain that elusive zen state.

So get to it, I’ve just handed you nuggets of gold with which you can further delay doing actual work or performing necessary errands.

Things I’m thinking about:

Should I head to Beijing from Hong Kong?
Tragedy at VA Tech
RIP Kurt Vonnegut
Don Imus controversy

Cochin, Kerala (India): Pulling it Together

Yes, Indian Boys ARE Cute!, originally uploaded by funchilde.

“..it is about family. humanity. community” -archbishop desmond tutu

No doubt some of you think I’ve suffered a nervous breakdown after my last two posts. I’m actually doing great, the last two posts were the accumulation and result of more than two months of travel and study of some pretty impoverished places, the sum of the knowledge gained in our Global Studies course on human rights indexes, women’s right’s indexes, health and family indexes, education and literacy indexes, environmental reports and of course, our day to day interaction with each other and the locals that we are blessed to meet.

As one commenter points out, of all of the people I’ve met and observed as we are traveling around the world, all of them have a base “joy” that owes nothing to materialism. Almost without fail, everyone I’ve met wants to talk about themselves, their family, their community and life. And there really isn’t much that separates us in the general sense. I’ve just come to a place personally where I’m “fully” (I think) aware of my privildge and acknowledging that I no longer want to keep my head up my @#$ about the world and my place in it.

What that means I don’t exactly know yet (maybe nothing beyond that?). Nor do I harbor condescending thoughts of “saving” anyone, colonialism already took care of screwing many people out of their land, culture, family and in most cases their freedom (think slavery in America and Brazil, Apartheid in South Africa, the plight of Native Americans and the indigenous ethnic groups of Mexico. And I’m not sure about missionary work which looks to me like it trades bibles for food, money and education-things I think should be free regardless of your religious affiliation. This is just my opinion.

That being said, despite my heart’s pain at the poverty I encountered in Brazil, Africa, Mauritius and India…I wouldn’t trade a minute of this trip for anything. I also hope that my descriptions of India in particular, do not dampen anyone’s desire to visit this amazing land. India and South Africa are tied for my favorite places that I want to return to. For very different reasons. In India I felt like a real traveler. The culture shock was larger than any I’ve experienced so far on this trip. The smells, the pollution, the bargaining, the traffic, the heat. The diversity of the Indian people, the beauty of the land, their unabashed love of all things Bollywood and sing along dance numbers. Their devotion to their families and communities.

I loved packing my backpack to head down to Kerala. The Pepto, hand sanitizer, headlamp and book. Check. Underwear, spare roll of toilet paper, bag locks, picture of my parents. Check. T-shirts, sarong, sunscreen and deet. Check.

I also enjoyed using the eastern style “squat” toilets which take a little getting used to. Fortunately, I quickly recalled my technique from using the “squatters” in Kenya. What else? I enjoyed the Welcome Committee, and the daily game of guessing how many people I would see on one moped/scooter (the most I saw was 5!). I couldn’t get enough of the Masala Dosa (potatoes, etc in a thin dough wrap spiced to perfection). Sweet, hot, coffee is a must on those early mornings when we had to get up before dawn to see/do more things in 24 hours than I ever thought possible.

My first overnight ride on the infamous blue trains of India. Even the rat that ran towards my feet made the adventure that much sweeter (and made me jump onto two bunks faster than I’ve moved since middle school!). We dubbed the Kerala trip “Rats on a Train” from there on out, but the cars were clean, the people were friendly and Man We are in INDIA! The daily surrendering of your life to auto traffic and rickshaw drivers really makes you face your mortality and move on. The markets for EVERYTHING from onions to fish. The Temples, Churches and Synagogues. Divine. Cooking Pepper Chicken Masal-I hope its not the last time.

You also have to love Squat Toilets! Even when we had the choice, I chose “squat” over “western”. For example in the trains there is a squat and a western at the end of each car. Sandpiper beer (and others) made the heat and dust almost worth it. Every night we’d drag ourselves to some restaurant or watering hole looking like all shades and sizes of Indiana Jones crossed with Laura Croft (Tomb Raider) with a little bit of Pigpen (from Charlie Brown) thrown in.

More than anything I enjoyed the people. The scenes of daily routine in a foreign land make me think about my own routines when I’m at “home” whatever that is anymore. I really enjoyed watching people go about their day in India in a way that made me feel like a cheerful voyeur. But it is their languid pace, the fact that everything has to be done from beginning to end, and there are few short-cuts. There are no Wal-Marts or Targets, no Ikeas or laundromats (outside of major metro areas). These scenes make us all reflect on how we spend our time, what “convenience” versus necessity really means, and how appreciative we are (or how appreciative we ought to be) for the many ways our lives are made easier.

I loved floating through the Periyar game reserve. The Monkeys! The trip down Kerala’s backwaters was something I’ll never forget. These are things that are indescribable and even photos do them little justice. I can’t tell you what it feels like to stand in a temple, church or synagogue that was built in the 1500’s. The craftsmanship, the caretaking and maintenance, the joys, secrets and pains those walls must know. I laughed my head off talking with the fisherman and hauling in a net of “catch” and strolling through the markets and seeing the wide variety of fresh fish and seafood. I enjoyed seeing the sights from the back of Adil’s (pictured) motorbike, zipping from church to church to snake charmer, holding tight to his beltloops and and even more tightly to the moment.

Snake charmers. Fishermen. Mothers. Daughters. Fathers. Sons.

Finally, here’s an example of the type of traveler that I am. We returned from Kerala via overnight train at 0600 (early morning) on our last day in India. I hadn’t slept much on the train but was in good spirits, if a little grubby and greasy around the edges. One of my colleagues (Erika) who was on the Kerala trip was also on another trip due to leave the ship at 8am and she feared that she would miss the trip because we were getting in so close to departure and she wouldn’t have time to shower, etc. I was like “eh, just dump your gear, and go”.

By the time we got on the ship it was 7:30am and after a long, pretty involved but very cool story…I ended up with a ticket leaving at 8:00am for that very same trip (a long day trip out to some amazing temples). I literally didn’t even have time to go to my cabin and change my t-shirt, shower, or even store my pack/gear. I just dumped it in the admin office, prayed it would be safe (aforementioned belongings including iPod etc) and grabbed my Nikon D50, a bandana and a bottle of water and ran for the bus. Erika laughed and said we should be seatmates since neither of us had showered, washed our faces or anything.

But the sunlight streaming into the bus windows on a beautiful morning as a foreign city wakes up and doesn’t feel quite so foreign anymore, is worth a missed shower any day. I pray that you all have a chance to visit !ncredibe !ndia one day, she’ll take your breath away and you’ll love her for it.

**Turns out from a spiritual perspective that I was “supposed” to be on this last minute trip. about 2.5 hours away at the first temple we visited, one of the students got really sick with diahreah (sp?) and vomiting, etc. Everyone on the trip was really into it (about 40 people and three other staff), and the student didn’t want to leave the trip and tried to make it through. I made the call and told her I was hiring a car and we were going back. It was only going to get hotter, dustier and more uncomfortable for her. Her face showed her relief that someone was making definitive decisions. We hired a car for $30 (for a 5 hour round trip for the driver-crazy) and got her back to the ship. The driver stopped along the way as needed so that she could be sick in decent facilities. She recovered nicely by the next day and I was only too happy to be in a situation where I could actually DO something. The upside is that I was also showered and in my pajamas by sundown.