I haven't written in this thing since July...terrible. Well, short summary of events: took my GRE not once but TWICE (July & Oct), climbed Mt. Fuji (birthday), applied to UCSD & Monterey Institute (Oct, Nov, Dec), went to South Korea (Nov), went to India to visit my mom (Christmas, New Years), and I'm off to Nagano next weekend for a ski trip. Got into Monterey, waiting on UCSD, finished my FAFSA, and almost done with taxes...I feel like I need to be productive, I'm antsy. I started reading "One Piece" in Japanese...it rekindled some desire to learn Japanese and take the JLPT one last time b4 I leave. Kinda strange though, trying to get hella good at Japanese just before I leave...it's really just to buff up the resume and help with my career. At least the kids LOVE the fact I've been reading their favorite book, awesome conversation starter. We'll see if this will blossom into something. Anyway, I was inspired to write tonight not to provide you, the reader, a retelling of all the events since July. Instead I wanted to discuss, nay ramble, about an idea that popped into my head. Recently I have read Crime and Punishment, The 3 Muskateers, Papillon (so awesome), and now, Dostoevsky's The Idiot. Consequently, my mind has raced with ideas and, unfortunately, I have not put any of it into writing until now. So here goes, an attempt at free style writing and a train of thoughts.
Time. When do you really have the time to contemplate such a thing? And yet, it's so vital to be aware of how we're using our time, as it is, like anything, it's finite. With the coming of globalization (shout out to Mark), things have become faster around us...the internet, mobile phones, everything is accelerated. Thinking in retrospect, my four years in Los Angeles was a whirl wind..."gotta get that assignment done, gotta go to dragonboat practice, when is it going to be thursday so I can party, dammit it's sunday night, urrrggh I hate monday morning". Terrible examples but you get the jest: it was always one thing after the next. My time in Ikata has been a little slower but I've realized that I have fallen into a similar trap.
I lived for the weekend. My focus was always on the future.
Simple enough. Live in the present. "Take the time to smell the roses". Problem solved, what's the problem?
In all honesty, I don't think it's that easy. As young people, we chronically waste our time by fetishizing the future. Not to say messing around online is bad, you shouldn't be constantly productive...you'd burn yourself out. I just think there's a lack of awareness of how valuable our time is. Lemme talk about some of these ideas in more detail.
Who's familiar with the tv series, "Lost"? Well there's a scene from that show that really made an impression on me and what kind of person I wanted to be. One of the main characters, Sawyer, was reading a book while everyone else on the island was panicking, for one reason or another. Or perhaps it was when he was in a "others" camp, working in the 70s. I think it's the latter. Anyways, Jack asked Sawyer why he read every night. And he responded, and I paraphrase, "Winston Churchill used to read every night. He said it helped him make better decisions during the day. It made him a better leader. Jack, you always act on instinct but it's important to think before you act". And it hit me. Reading. When you're reading a book, you're the master of the literature, thoughts are constantly circulating in your head. Like anything, if you train yourself enough, it'll be habitual. And so by reading at night, you're able to stimulate your mind and make you more proactive with the world around you. By being able to piece things together faster, the world around you becomes slower. In contrast, watching television is non active. You're letting the storyline of show unfold before you, you're letting commercials market their products, you're letting all of this happen to you. And so, in turn, you become more passive, you let things happen to you; consequently, the world around you gets faster and uncontrollable...hectic. And this is how I feel time speeds up. Reading allows us train our minds to slow down time.
In Dostoevsky's The Idiot, Prince Myshkin recounts crossing paths with a former convict. The criminal was sentenced to death but at the last moments his execution was stopped. But before getting the pardon, the convict did something that intrigued me. He was told he had 5 more minutes to live. And so he segmented his time: 2 minutes to ask a question to a neighboring convict, 2 minutes to think by himself, and 1 minute to enjoy the surroundings. The last 5 minutes of his life and he had a plan on how to spend it. It's a morbid thought but what would any of us do in a similar situation. After getting the pardon the convict recalled that each minute felt like an age, that he lived 5 years within something as insignificant as 5 minutes. When you're given nothing else, you begin to treasure what little you do have. I suppose that's human nature. Unfortunately, the convict did not continue with this thought as he went back to his regular life. 5 minutes were once again, 5 minutes.
Does it take a traumatic incident to appreciate time or can we consciously make an effort in our daily life to enjoy every moment we have? Can we be that disciplined? Sure, we'll have days that suck, days we want to forget. But "every cloud has a silver lining". There has to be something, anything, within the course of your day that you can think, "wow, I'm pretty lucky". "Oh, that apple tasted good", "That girl over there is really FINE", "I really love my parents". Yes, it's forced optimism. But I'm starting to think it can be a helpful tactic to stop LIVING FOR THE WEEKEND. It'll become habitual...perhaps we can get a smile out of the smallest things...however insignificant. Why do this?
To combat the dreaded Monday Blues! "What's so bad about Monday? I hate Monday because it means the weekday and I have 5 more days until the weekend. What's so great about the weekend? I get to go out, drink, hang out with my friends. Here comes Monday again. Repeat." I admit it, I've thought about this quite a bit. I do this with hours in the day too, "Oh man, it's 2oclock, only 2 more hours until school's out!".
But what makes Monday or those 2 hours in the day any less important to your life? If you live for the weekend, you're living for 2 days out of 7...that's about 104 days out of 365. You're missing out on 261 days of your life, per year! Sure, you're living it, but the QUALITY of it goes to shit. Next thing you know, you've let the "best years of your life" pass. According to an Economist article I read, our lives are more U-shaped...that it's downhill for us from our 20s until age 46...and then it goes upwards until we're old and senile. Why? Apparently because young people tend to be ambitious and never satisfied with their situation whereas elderly people are, to be blunt, have accepted things and are anticipating their death. Going back to the convict example in The Idiot, older people realize their mortality and so they have a stronger appreciation for the smaller things in life. Don't get me wrong, ambition is good, it's vital. But it's crucial to be aware of how we spend our time. Don't put your head down and try to work, work, work...occasionally raise your head, take a breath in and appreciate what you have.
I will close this long thought with an analogy that I made when I was younger. I think life is a journey through the mountains. There are steep climbs, dangerous crevices and all sorts of obstacles preventing you from making your ultimate goal: the summit. But, once you've made it to the top, you don't stop there, you descend the mountain and go to your next challenge. Now, if you're working your ass off to get to peak to peak, shouldn't you try to enjoy the scenery around you? Take a moment to relax, put your backpack down and take a look at the magnificent view. Don't think, "Man, I just want to get to the peak..when I get to the peak, I can finally party, hang out with my friends". Instead, enjoy the climb, have an apple, check out that FINE girl, appreciate your family.
Now, all of this is only a thought, rambling really. But I firmly believe reading can make you a more assertive individual and, in doing so, you can control the environment you're in. If you can change your attitude to something positive every time, no matter what, can you imagine how much easier those Mondays will get? Take it one moment at a time and perhaps, just maybe, we can live 5 minutes like they were 5 ages.
Time to sleep.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Saturday, July 17, 2010
America is but the upper triangle of an hour glass
As I have mentioned in my previous entries, I try to find projects to keep myself occupied. Studying for the JLPT, driving test, pen pal letter, etc. Now it's studying for the GREs...hardcore until July 29th. Get a good score, write my essays, ask for letters of recs, get the application in; after that, get into a good grad school and get reacquainted with American life. Step by step and it all begins with this silly test. But I shall spare you drudgery of the GRE and instead share with you a school related project.
Ever since 6th grade I have had fervor for social studies. For those of you unfamiliar with Mr. Revicky, he was a very eccentric man. Always had this evil looking smile and loved to make fun of his students. In hindsight, I really liked him...he really cared about his students. He was a very real person and his passion for history rubbed off on me. I remember the very first lesson we had...he told us to draw a map of the world. I struggled mightily to get all the important landmasses on my paper only to have my teacher chuckle and shake his head. After I was done, I had a pathetic recreation of the world. Once we were done, Mr. Revicky went to the blackboard to draw us his world. He proceeded to make two triangles to make an hour glass for N. and S. America, a triangle and rectangle for Europe and Asia, another triangle for India, a square for Australia, a rectangle for Africa, and a very skinny and long rectangle on the bottom for Antarctica. This, he explained, was the world. I don't know why that particular memory made such a big impression on me but it did. At that moment I knew I loved social studies and that I wanted to travel to 100 countries. Mr. Revicky showed me that the world isn't that complicated, that it really isn't that small...we live on the upper hour glass and we can just as easily travel to or live on another geometric shape. Even that long, thin rectangle.
I suppose that's the true gratification behind teaching, your ability to make an ever lasting impact on your students' lives. You're not just the provider of information but the spark that helps ignite their passion for life. We've all had that teacher. And so, my social studies teacher at my school in Ikata gave me an opportunity to share with my students my passion. Ever since last year, Mr. Fujimura has let me come to his classroom to observe his lessons. He always included me in the discussions as he asked me for my viewpoints on the atomic bomb, American politics during WWII, the American geography and climate, and various other topics. It's an amazing experience...I can share an American perspective while the students can enlighten me with their Japanese perspective on history. No book can do that. One day, it just so happened, Mr. Fujimura asked me if I wanted to make a presentation on the Pilgrims, Revolutionary War and Civil War! I jumped at the opportunity. And so I went and worked my tail to get the material ready for the big lesson. I searched the web and summarized the Mayflower, the harsh winter, Squanto's visit and the first Thanksgiving dinner. Looked up the Tea Act, the Boston Tea Party, and Washington's Delaware crossing. And then it was the Civil War: explaining to the kids the cruelty of slavery, Lincoln’s presidency, and the gruesome battle that ensued. In the end, I brought everything back by explaining to the students the true significance of having Barack Obama as our president- after years of inhumanity and discrimination, an African American man is finally the single most powerful individual in our country. With that said, I told them that racism is still prevalent and that it’s their generation’s responsibility to learn from history’s mistakes and make a better world. A few days later, my social studies teacher gave me a stack of evaluation papers covered in Japanese characters. Every line, maybe 30-40, was covered with text. I was able to read some of it and some of it I had to gloss over but it was meant so much to me that my students got that much from my lesson. Someday I will be able to read everything…maybe after my GREs I will start studying Japanese again.
Before I end this blog, I wanted to share with you one last thing. I began writing this blog last month (procrastination is one devilish habit) and my mom just told me another reason for my voracious appetite for countries. Apparently when I was 5 years old I couldn’t stop talking to my mom about the suffering of the poor Bosnian people. To this day I don’t anything about Bosnia but according to my mom, I was absolutely ardent about my sentiments, I really cared about making some point at age 5. Oh Peter Jennings, you will be missed. After that, my next obsession was with the country of Somalia and I addressed a solution to their draught crisis. At the same time, there was a horrible flood along the Mississippi River. Eureka, I have an idea! As a matter of fact, at age 6, after enough encouragement from a family friend, I decided to take a pencil and write to the President himself to explain to him my brilliant plan. It ran something like this, “Dear Mr. President. Mississippi River. You can send water to Somalia. You can freeze a metal box and send it there. Don’t worry, it will melt there. Sincerely, Tenshing John Honda”. While President Clinton probably had more important things to worry about, I wanted to assure him that my plan was full proof. About a month later I got a letter back in the mail with a signed photograph of my boy Bill. He told me he appreciated my comments and that I should try to help my local community. Sure thing Mr. President. After that episode, my mom decided to give get me a world globe. We went over all the countries of the world and talked about all the issues that they had to deal with. I guess that’s why I want to travel to 100 countries. Another theory is my hero Robert Ripley from “Ripley’s believe it or not” inspired me but that’s a story best left for another day.
Ever since 6th grade I have had fervor for social studies. For those of you unfamiliar with Mr. Revicky, he was a very eccentric man. Always had this evil looking smile and loved to make fun of his students. In hindsight, I really liked him...he really cared about his students. He was a very real person and his passion for history rubbed off on me. I remember the very first lesson we had...he told us to draw a map of the world. I struggled mightily to get all the important landmasses on my paper only to have my teacher chuckle and shake his head. After I was done, I had a pathetic recreation of the world. Once we were done, Mr. Revicky went to the blackboard to draw us his world. He proceeded to make two triangles to make an hour glass for N. and S. America, a triangle and rectangle for Europe and Asia, another triangle for India, a square for Australia, a rectangle for Africa, and a very skinny and long rectangle on the bottom for Antarctica. This, he explained, was the world. I don't know why that particular memory made such a big impression on me but it did. At that moment I knew I loved social studies and that I wanted to travel to 100 countries. Mr. Revicky showed me that the world isn't that complicated, that it really isn't that small...we live on the upper hour glass and we can just as easily travel to or live on another geometric shape. Even that long, thin rectangle.
I suppose that's the true gratification behind teaching, your ability to make an ever lasting impact on your students' lives. You're not just the provider of information but the spark that helps ignite their passion for life. We've all had that teacher. And so, my social studies teacher at my school in Ikata gave me an opportunity to share with my students my passion. Ever since last year, Mr. Fujimura has let me come to his classroom to observe his lessons. He always included me in the discussions as he asked me for my viewpoints on the atomic bomb, American politics during WWII, the American geography and climate, and various other topics. It's an amazing experience...I can share an American perspective while the students can enlighten me with their Japanese perspective on history. No book can do that. One day, it just so happened, Mr. Fujimura asked me if I wanted to make a presentation on the Pilgrims, Revolutionary War and Civil War! I jumped at the opportunity. And so I went and worked my tail to get the material ready for the big lesson. I searched the web and summarized the Mayflower, the harsh winter, Squanto's visit and the first Thanksgiving dinner. Looked up the Tea Act, the Boston Tea Party, and Washington's Delaware crossing. And then it was the Civil War: explaining to the kids the cruelty of slavery, Lincoln’s presidency, and the gruesome battle that ensued. In the end, I brought everything back by explaining to the students the true significance of having Barack Obama as our president- after years of inhumanity and discrimination, an African American man is finally the single most powerful individual in our country. With that said, I told them that racism is still prevalent and that it’s their generation’s responsibility to learn from history’s mistakes and make a better world. A few days later, my social studies teacher gave me a stack of evaluation papers covered in Japanese characters. Every line, maybe 30-40, was covered with text. I was able to read some of it and some of it I had to gloss over but it was meant so much to me that my students got that much from my lesson. Someday I will be able to read everything…maybe after my GREs I will start studying Japanese again.
Before I end this blog, I wanted to share with you one last thing. I began writing this blog last month (procrastination is one devilish habit) and my mom just told me another reason for my voracious appetite for countries. Apparently when I was 5 years old I couldn’t stop talking to my mom about the suffering of the poor Bosnian people. To this day I don’t anything about Bosnia but according to my mom, I was absolutely ardent about my sentiments, I really cared about making some point at age 5. Oh Peter Jennings, you will be missed. After that, my next obsession was with the country of Somalia and I addressed a solution to their draught crisis. At the same time, there was a horrible flood along the Mississippi River. Eureka, I have an idea! As a matter of fact, at age 6, after enough encouragement from a family friend, I decided to take a pencil and write to the President himself to explain to him my brilliant plan. It ran something like this, “Dear Mr. President. Mississippi River. You can send water to Somalia. You can freeze a metal box and send it there. Don’t worry, it will melt there. Sincerely, Tenshing John Honda”. While President Clinton probably had more important things to worry about, I wanted to assure him that my plan was full proof. About a month later I got a letter back in the mail with a signed photograph of my boy Bill. He told me he appreciated my comments and that I should try to help my local community. Sure thing Mr. President. After that episode, my mom decided to give get me a world globe. We went over all the countries of the world and talked about all the issues that they had to deal with. I guess that’s why I want to travel to 100 countries. Another theory is my hero Robert Ripley from “Ripley’s believe it or not” inspired me but that’s a story best left for another day.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Adventures at the DMV
When a JET recontracts, a multitude of pros and cons are weighed out. Homesickness, displeasure with the work environment, and a resignation to enter the real world drive some away. As the recontracting process happens during the winter, depression strikes as it plays into the decision making. Others, who ink out another year, are either passionate about their work, wish to learn more about Japanese culture, or/and are too comfortable with their situation to take the next step. While these reasons are quite simplistic and may not influence some JETs, there are the general arguments raised in early February. One overlooked reason that rarely enters discussion is the notoriously expensive driver’s license. And so today I will try my best to describe to you all the crucible that was obtaining a Japanese license.
Living in the Japanese countryside one MUST have a car to get around. My Yakuba (city hall) provided me with a car. While I am restricted to traveling to Yawatahama, there is a major train that passes through Yawatahama. Mobility is awesome. This situation only poses a dilemma if I choose to drink away from home as I would be forced to drive home under the influence. Japan has a 0 tolerance for drinking and driving, one drop of alcohol is considered over the limit. Thus I am a habitual nomad who must rely upon the kindness of friends to provide a roof over my head. The situation is not perfect but with a free car and gas, one has no reason to complain. Driving in the Japanese countryside was somewhat challenging at first but I have grown accustomed to driving on the left side of the road and maneuvering my car through narrow streets. And thanks to AAA, I was able to procure a International Driver’s Permit so I could forego getting a real license. Unfortunately, the permit expires in 1 year. Yes, if one recontracts in the Japanese countryside, they will need to get a Japanese driver’s license. When I recontracted, I had completely forgotten about this minor detail. True, it should not dictate your decision but at least I could have thought about it, if only for a painful moment. On April 2nd, 2010, I embarked on an odyssey.
It was spring break. The children were out of school but not really. They were still required to do club activities every day. The teachers were not on beaches getting their tan on. No, we went to our teacher’s room every day. Sure, things were slightly informal but still, spring break is not what it was in college. To pass the time I read and studied. It was the perfect opportunity to go get my license. I was able to obtain 3 “special leave vacation” time. And so I went to Matsuyama with my supervisor, Mr. Shiga, on Friday morning. The drive up was surprisingly pleasant as he was very easy to talk to. He has this mellow demeanor and frankness about him. Our conversation ultimately steered towards travel as he expressed interest in going abroad. Apparently he has relatives in South America! With the workaholic attitude that many of the Japanese have, though, vacation is put on ice until retirement. When we got to the Ehime Driving Center, I filled out all the necessary documents. Application, interview, vision test and a ridiculously easy written true or false exam that a trained monkey could pass. Such questions included: “When you come to an intersection with a police officer dictating traffic, do you listen to him?” or “If you drink alcohol, you can drive”. Bureaucracy being the way it is, I wasn’t done until about 3 or 4pm. The application and all this took only 25 dollars. But, moments later, I was ushered to one of the practice instructors. You see, there is a set course with fictitious intersections, lights and signs that one needs to pass. The instructor told me to get as many practice tickets as I wished. I decided to get 2 hours worth of tickets. At aridiculous price of 11 dollars for 10 minutes (400yen-instructor, 700yen to use car), I spent 130 dollars on tickets. I ended up buying 40 minutes more later for a grand total of 174 dollars. And so, between the tickets and Friday’s application, I spent over 200 dollars.
On Friday I opted not to practice driving but I went to the DMV on Sunday. While the DMV is closed on Saturdays, the practice area was open on Sunday. Before I go any further, I failed to mention that the driving test can be administered ONLY on Tuesdays and Fridays for foreigners. Thus, on top of the money situation, I was stressed out by the time constraint…I was allotted only 3 days of free vacation time but if I were to fail, not only would I have to spend more money but I would have to use up my precious vacation time! Back to Sunday. My supervisor was unable to accompany me any further in my journey. He had already gone beyond anything I could have hoped for: he made reservations for my driving test, he drove me 2 hrs to the dmv and 2 hrs back from the dmv, he bought me lunch and helped me throughout the process. He is freaking awesome. But now I had to face the challenge by myself. Firstly, I took the train to Matsuyama (with the young weekenders card, 28 dollars for two way tickets), took the bus from the station to the dmv (5 dollars), and got lunch across the street from the dmv (10 bucks). When I got to the practice area, I began to vigorously read over the course map. After looking over the practice track over and over again, I was fairly confident. In addition to memorizing the course, one needs to make the appropriate verbal commands at every juncture. In Japanese. Hidari Koho Sayu Yoshi, Oto nash, Migi Migi Koho Yoshi, etc etc etc. I nailed it. So I thought. I went ahead and signed up for 3 practice sessions (20 minutes a piece). In all those practice sessions, I met a colorful array of characters. My first instructor, for example, we’ll call her “raging bitch,” was well, intolerable. The moment I got into the car she began to tell me to do things. Instead of letting me finish a verbal command, she would talk over me. Every moment of the practice session with her was absolutely hellish as she was anal about every bit of the course. I had to fight back my frustration…I really felt like snapping at her. But cooler heads would prevail as I made it through the practice lesson without exploding on her. I felt like a mindless drone operating the vehicle…I couldn’t think for myself and thus I was timid and unsure about the course. She was very animate about being 50 cm from the curve and 30 cm from the white line…all about the measurements. In hindsight, she was probably my best instructor. As much as I hated her, she gave me a good foundation…I was made efficient and meticulous with my driving. My 2nd instructor, the mellow and gentle man in his 40s, was exactly what I needed.Still shell shocked with my experience with the “raging bitch,” he had a calmer demeanor that settled my nerves. He was obsessed with making proper wheel turns as he constantly preached “hand over hand”. On my last session of the day, I did another session with the RB but it went a lot smoother. In fact, she barely said a thing…inside I smirked as I relished being able to shut her up. And so after day 1 I mastered the 50-30 cm measurements, making a lane change 4 dotted lines before an intersection, and how to turn the wheel. I went back on the bus to the train station then took the train to Yawatahama then drove back to my Ikata-cho hole. Until the next day for more practice.
The following day, Monday, I went to the DMV in Matsuyama once again. Taking the same discounted train fare ($28) and the $5 bus. Got some lunch and made a hotel reservation at the hotel across the street from the DMV. For the cheap price of $65 a night (dinner and breakfast included), I was able to procure a room at the License Hotel. Now all I had to do was roll out of bed and I would be set to take the test early Tuesday morning. When I got to the practice facility, there were a couple of new instructors. I got paired up with this goofy dude with a great sense of humor. I think it was because I was a foreigner but he kept laughing as he was trying to talk to me in English. The specialty he taught me was being excessively animated on my commands. Move your head, really look at the mirror. Hunch forward when making the “sayu” commands on low visibility intersections. In addition, he instilled in me a sense of confidence…he seemed to think I was a pretty good driver. After our pleasant drive, he signed off on my practice card and told me I can take a car out on my own now. And so I practiced another hour or so until I called it a day and went back to the hotel to take a long nap. Before I forget, I want to mention a couple of my friends that helped me tremendously. John and Travis gave me a lot of information on the test and prepped me for what to expect. John even offered to take me out on a test drive to give me pointers. But the most important thing I got was their support…as this process was daunting and doing it by myself was petrifying. And so I had an early dinner and went back to my room to watch some tv before I crashed for the night. The television show choice was fairly ironic. As I was in a state of panic and stress, I was watching a show on a countdown about the “most amazing people in the world”. Basically it was a collection of dare devils and risk takers ranging from ropeless mountain climbers to teenagers rubbing honey on their bellies and letting bears lick it off of them. I guess my driver’s license test paled in comparison to these dangerous activities. I slept well.
The next day I was up and early. Got breakfast and headed out to conquer my mountain. My journey was drawing to a close and I needed to summon that last power 10 to get me over the hump. I listened to Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” to get my mind focused and ready. I thought back to my days on dragonboat, told myself not to bitch out and go out there and do my shit. No longer a paddler but always a competitor. I was going to pass this test. And so I got 30-40 min more of a practice session, 20 minutes by myself and about 20 min with an instructor. The last instructor was a lady in her late 30s. She gave me the skillset of knowing when to call out my commands. And so I learned all my skills to take me to the top. Distance from the bitch, proper wheel turning by the gentle dude, animated motions by the goofy fellow and when to vocalize by the lady. And it was time for all of it to come together. I was paired with another foreigner, this guy from China-Mongolia. I talked with him quite a bit…all in Japanese of course. He was very interesting, he was telling me how only 20% of Chinese have work…the other 80% are involved in agriculture. I was also curious about his sentiments towards the Chinese…since he was Mongolian. He said he had no ill feelings but as a child he learned only Mongolian, at least until it was compulsory at 3rd grade in elementary school. Back to the test. So my Chinese-Mongolian friend took the test first as I sat in the back to observe him. It was quite helpful. Then it was my turn. I closed the door. DOOR YOSHI. Adjusted my seat. SEAT YOSHI. Put my safety belt on. BELT YOSHI. All the other commands followed. With every command I grew more vocal and confident. As I was going over these safety commands before I set off to the course it felt a lot like marshalling. I was pumping myself up. Chest bump. Then I took the test, trying to be as meticulous and thoughtful as possible with every turn of the wheel. I was crisp and vocal at every moment of the test that required a vocal command. Kept my head up and kept rotating. Made sure I wasn’t rushing my commands and entered the lanes smoothly. As I was set to park my car on the curb I uttered my last verbal command, “Hidari Koho Yoshi” as I slowly got ready to dock. Car stopped, park on, break up, blinker off, engine off. Done. 15 minutes later I got the news that my friend and I passed, took a picture and was out of there before noon. The endeavor cost me between $450 and $500. It was a pyrrhic victory. But it was done.
And thus my adventures at the DMV draws to a steady close. The journey was difficult but I had friends to help me out along the way. Jessamine gave me some necessary prep talk and even offered to drive me to Matsuyama. My supervisor drove me and got me lunch. My friends John and Travis gave me so many information and support. My instructors, even the raging bitch, gave me a proper foundation to succeed. And I made a new friend at the DMV. I was nervous, petrified, scared. But I was able to harness a lot of my old dragonboat testosterone. Stayed the course and finished strong.
Living in the Japanese countryside one MUST have a car to get around. My Yakuba (city hall) provided me with a car. While I am restricted to traveling to Yawatahama, there is a major train that passes through Yawatahama. Mobility is awesome. This situation only poses a dilemma if I choose to drink away from home as I would be forced to drive home under the influence. Japan has a 0 tolerance for drinking and driving, one drop of alcohol is considered over the limit. Thus I am a habitual nomad who must rely upon the kindness of friends to provide a roof over my head. The situation is not perfect but with a free car and gas, one has no reason to complain. Driving in the Japanese countryside was somewhat challenging at first but I have grown accustomed to driving on the left side of the road and maneuvering my car through narrow streets. And thanks to AAA, I was able to procure a International Driver’s Permit so I could forego getting a real license. Unfortunately, the permit expires in 1 year. Yes, if one recontracts in the Japanese countryside, they will need to get a Japanese driver’s license. When I recontracted, I had completely forgotten about this minor detail. True, it should not dictate your decision but at least I could have thought about it, if only for a painful moment. On April 2nd, 2010, I embarked on an odyssey.
It was spring break. The children were out of school but not really. They were still required to do club activities every day. The teachers were not on beaches getting their tan on. No, we went to our teacher’s room every day. Sure, things were slightly informal but still, spring break is not what it was in college. To pass the time I read and studied. It was the perfect opportunity to go get my license. I was able to obtain 3 “special leave vacation” time. And so I went to Matsuyama with my supervisor, Mr. Shiga, on Friday morning. The drive up was surprisingly pleasant as he was very easy to talk to. He has this mellow demeanor and frankness about him. Our conversation ultimately steered towards travel as he expressed interest in going abroad. Apparently he has relatives in South America! With the workaholic attitude that many of the Japanese have, though, vacation is put on ice until retirement. When we got to the Ehime Driving Center, I filled out all the necessary documents. Application, interview, vision test and a ridiculously easy written true or false exam that a trained monkey could pass. Such questions included: “When you come to an intersection with a police officer dictating traffic, do you listen to him?” or “If you drink alcohol, you can drive”. Bureaucracy being the way it is, I wasn’t done until about 3 or 4pm. The application and all this took only 25 dollars. But, moments later, I was ushered to one of the practice instructors. You see, there is a set course with fictitious intersections, lights and signs that one needs to pass. The instructor told me to get as many practice tickets as I wished. I decided to get 2 hours worth of tickets. At aridiculous price of 11 dollars for 10 minutes (400yen-instructor, 700yen to use car), I spent 130 dollars on tickets. I ended up buying 40 minutes more later for a grand total of 174 dollars. And so, between the tickets and Friday’s application, I spent over 200 dollars.
On Friday I opted not to practice driving but I went to the DMV on Sunday. While the DMV is closed on Saturdays, the practice area was open on Sunday. Before I go any further, I failed to mention that the driving test can be administered ONLY on Tuesdays and Fridays for foreigners. Thus, on top of the money situation, I was stressed out by the time constraint…I was allotted only 3 days of free vacation time but if I were to fail, not only would I have to spend more money but I would have to use up my precious vacation time! Back to Sunday. My supervisor was unable to accompany me any further in my journey. He had already gone beyond anything I could have hoped for: he made reservations for my driving test, he drove me 2 hrs to the dmv and 2 hrs back from the dmv, he bought me lunch and helped me throughout the process. He is freaking awesome. But now I had to face the challenge by myself. Firstly, I took the train to Matsuyama (with the young weekenders card, 28 dollars for two way tickets), took the bus from the station to the dmv (5 dollars), and got lunch across the street from the dmv (10 bucks). When I got to the practice area, I began to vigorously read over the course map. After looking over the practice track over and over again, I was fairly confident. In addition to memorizing the course, one needs to make the appropriate verbal commands at every juncture. In Japanese. Hidari Koho Sayu Yoshi, Oto nash, Migi Migi Koho Yoshi, etc etc etc. I nailed it. So I thought. I went ahead and signed up for 3 practice sessions (20 minutes a piece). In all those practice sessions, I met a colorful array of characters. My first instructor, for example, we’ll call her “raging bitch,” was well, intolerable. The moment I got into the car she began to tell me to do things. Instead of letting me finish a verbal command, she would talk over me. Every moment of the practice session with her was absolutely hellish as she was anal about every bit of the course. I had to fight back my frustration…I really felt like snapping at her. But cooler heads would prevail as I made it through the practice lesson without exploding on her. I felt like a mindless drone operating the vehicle…I couldn’t think for myself and thus I was timid and unsure about the course. She was very animate about being 50 cm from the curve and 30 cm from the white line…all about the measurements. In hindsight, she was probably my best instructor. As much as I hated her, she gave me a good foundation…I was made efficient and meticulous with my driving. My 2nd instructor, the mellow and gentle man in his 40s, was exactly what I needed.Still shell shocked with my experience with the “raging bitch,” he had a calmer demeanor that settled my nerves. He was obsessed with making proper wheel turns as he constantly preached “hand over hand”. On my last session of the day, I did another session with the RB but it went a lot smoother. In fact, she barely said a thing…inside I smirked as I relished being able to shut her up. And so after day 1 I mastered the 50-30 cm measurements, making a lane change 4 dotted lines before an intersection, and how to turn the wheel. I went back on the bus to the train station then took the train to Yawatahama then drove back to my Ikata-cho hole. Until the next day for more practice.
The following day, Monday, I went to the DMV in Matsuyama once again. Taking the same discounted train fare ($28) and the $5 bus. Got some lunch and made a hotel reservation at the hotel across the street from the DMV. For the cheap price of $65 a night (dinner and breakfast included), I was able to procure a room at the License Hotel. Now all I had to do was roll out of bed and I would be set to take the test early Tuesday morning. When I got to the practice facility, there were a couple of new instructors. I got paired up with this goofy dude with a great sense of humor. I think it was because I was a foreigner but he kept laughing as he was trying to talk to me in English. The specialty he taught me was being excessively animated on my commands. Move your head, really look at the mirror. Hunch forward when making the “sayu” commands on low visibility intersections. In addition, he instilled in me a sense of confidence…he seemed to think I was a pretty good driver. After our pleasant drive, he signed off on my practice card and told me I can take a car out on my own now. And so I practiced another hour or so until I called it a day and went back to the hotel to take a long nap. Before I forget, I want to mention a couple of my friends that helped me tremendously. John and Travis gave me a lot of information on the test and prepped me for what to expect. John even offered to take me out on a test drive to give me pointers. But the most important thing I got was their support…as this process was daunting and doing it by myself was petrifying. And so I had an early dinner and went back to my room to watch some tv before I crashed for the night. The television show choice was fairly ironic. As I was in a state of panic and stress, I was watching a show on a countdown about the “most amazing people in the world”. Basically it was a collection of dare devils and risk takers ranging from ropeless mountain climbers to teenagers rubbing honey on their bellies and letting bears lick it off of them. I guess my driver’s license test paled in comparison to these dangerous activities. I slept well.
The next day I was up and early. Got breakfast and headed out to conquer my mountain. My journey was drawing to a close and I needed to summon that last power 10 to get me over the hump. I listened to Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” to get my mind focused and ready. I thought back to my days on dragonboat, told myself not to bitch out and go out there and do my shit. No longer a paddler but always a competitor. I was going to pass this test. And so I got 30-40 min more of a practice session, 20 minutes by myself and about 20 min with an instructor. The last instructor was a lady in her late 30s. She gave me the skillset of knowing when to call out my commands. And so I learned all my skills to take me to the top. Distance from the bitch, proper wheel turning by the gentle dude, animated motions by the goofy fellow and when to vocalize by the lady. And it was time for all of it to come together. I was paired with another foreigner, this guy from China-Mongolia. I talked with him quite a bit…all in Japanese of course. He was very interesting, he was telling me how only 20% of Chinese have work…the other 80% are involved in agriculture. I was also curious about his sentiments towards the Chinese…since he was Mongolian. He said he had no ill feelings but as a child he learned only Mongolian, at least until it was compulsory at 3rd grade in elementary school. Back to the test. So my Chinese-Mongolian friend took the test first as I sat in the back to observe him. It was quite helpful. Then it was my turn. I closed the door. DOOR YOSHI. Adjusted my seat. SEAT YOSHI. Put my safety belt on. BELT YOSHI. All the other commands followed. With every command I grew more vocal and confident. As I was going over these safety commands before I set off to the course it felt a lot like marshalling. I was pumping myself up. Chest bump. Then I took the test, trying to be as meticulous and thoughtful as possible with every turn of the wheel. I was crisp and vocal at every moment of the test that required a vocal command. Kept my head up and kept rotating. Made sure I wasn’t rushing my commands and entered the lanes smoothly. As I was set to park my car on the curb I uttered my last verbal command, “Hidari Koho Yoshi” as I slowly got ready to dock. Car stopped, park on, break up, blinker off, engine off. Done. 15 minutes later I got the news that my friend and I passed, took a picture and was out of there before noon. The endeavor cost me between $450 and $500. It was a pyrrhic victory. But it was done.
And thus my adventures at the DMV draws to a steady close. The journey was difficult but I had friends to help me out along the way. Jessamine gave me some necessary prep talk and even offered to drive me to Matsuyama. My supervisor drove me and got me lunch. My friends John and Travis gave me so many information and support. My instructors, even the raging bitch, gave me a proper foundation to succeed. And I made a new friend at the DMV. I was nervous, petrified, scared. But I was able to harness a lot of my old dragonboat testosterone. Stayed the course and finished strong.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Graduation Reflections
As spring approaches, the weather has steadily gotten warmer. Sure it rains on occasion but it is no longer frigid and unbearable. Welcoming this transition is no other than the beautiful Japanese cherry blossoms. Like the blossoming flowers, our budding 3rd years have been something to admire. After months of hard work and disquitude comparable to what American college students have to endure, my students have crossed the finish line. And so, with the coming of the new season, I fought off tears, just barely, as I bid my children farewell.
Before I share my graduation experience, I want to provide insight into my relationship with my students. There are times I wish I made a greater effort to make a connection but I am grateful for the relationships I did manage to make. In the beginning it was difficult for me as I had to deal with chronic illness and homesickness. With the falling leaves and windy autumn nights, there was a cold, sinking feeling of loneliness. Days got shorter, it got chillier, holidays got overlooked and I was in miserable state. But I kept truckin', as my Outward Bound instructor Cully told me years back. And so the Sports day gave me an opportunity to mingle with the children outside the classroom. It was a success as I was able to make new friends and make many inside jokes. And during the competitions I saw for the first time how talented my children were...they made me proud. Not only was their physical strength admirable, their discipline and commitment to nail routines was amazing. The leaders of the groups (Tanaka Yuki, Shigeaki, Natsuko) were very impressive with their ability to command the attention of their peers. Everyone worked hard. The Japanese student is hard working by nature...they stay after school everyday until 530 or 6 either doing a club activity or studies.
There were other moments. Every day I had lunch with the children (rotating by grade level). Some days I managed to start a conversation and other days were just awkward. All in Japanese...At first everyone wanted to get a piece of me as they asked me countless questions. But as I settled in, I was no longer the center of attention. And while I can have a relatively intelligent conversation in Japanese, my mastery of the language leaves much to be desired. I want to talk to my children about politics, economy, travel, the state of the world. But no, I struggle to describe my love for basketball. Sometimes I can get through to the kids (I taught one kid why the Americans bombed Hiroshima) but other times they look at me befuddled. I want to study Japanese for my children...but alas, I have been more comfortable reading The Count of Monte Cristo, building my English vocabulary, and studying economics from good old Krugen. That's right, I'm reading a text book for "fun". The plan is to take the GRE, get into UCSD's International Relations and Pacific Studies major, get an awesome internship and become a diplomat. Perhaps a JLPT 2 along the way to bolster my resume to nab a job with an NGO or state department. Maybe business? I dunno, but I'm working my way up to it by studying words like ante meridiem and voracious. I suppose the latter describes my ambitions.
Sports day, lunch, what else? The classroom sounds appropriate, right? Unfortunately, my relations with one particular English teacher is rather frigid. She's notoriously difficult with ALTs and younger instructors. I tried everything get along with her but it's been like ripping out teeth. Bloody and excrutiatingly painful. While I praise her creative lesson plans, she hardly uses me in lessons...unless I confront her after class. This teacher is responsible for 2nd years and half the 3rd years classes. Consequently, my relationship with my children is affected by her. With the 2nd years, who I have incredible rapport, I decided to attend their social studies class on occasion to spend more time with them. It was very successful as they began to really take a liking to me for that. I got describe the American perspective on WWII, explain the American geopgraphy, and offer insight into other things American. Similarly, I decided to do something to maintain a relationship with my 3rd years. And so I started a Pen Pal Program (Pen Friends).
As some of you may have heard, I began a Pen Pal program at my school. I suggested the idea to my English teachers during the summer but I was shut down immediately. Couple months later, I approached the 3rd year teacher, wrote out a detailed, bulleted agenda for the program and got him to approve. Then I took it to the principal and got his okay. The program was special as it was with my old elementary school: Clarendon. In fact, I worked with Mr. Hippard, my old 5th grade teacher, as we exchanged many emails to make this program work. I was able to get 14 of my 3rd years to participate in the program and all were successful in writing 2 letters. I created worksheets, fake letter examples (they were addressed to you James Chiu), etc. I actually got my own classroom and taught grammar, how to write letters and shared with them a little about my home, San Francisco. I finally felt like a teacher. The students wrote about their hobbies, the holidays, etc. The experience was absolutely wonderful. I was under constant stress, though, as I had to meet a deadline (January) as the children had to begin their studies for high school exams. And with all sorts of activities, it was a nightmare to find appropriate times to meet. All of this would have been impossible if I didn't have the help of my friend, Kanako. She's the assistant English teacher (she's Japanese). She helped write up progress reports to our faculty, communicated important information to the students and helped me immensely with the project. This project not only allowed me to get closer to the children but it gave me hope and freedom. No longer was I constrained by the coursebook, no longer did I have to abide by my teacher's rules. I got to teach whatever the hell I wanted, the way I wanted. It made the English teacher I don't get along with irritated, to say the least. Kanako and I took great pleasure in it, to say the least.
In addition to the pen pal letter, I gave Shorenji Kempo a try to get to know one of my students, Kaito. He's one of my favorite students as he's incredibly smart, diligent, and down to earth. Plus he loves basketball. While I did not stick it out with the karate, I am glad that I was able to make a connection with him.
The last couple of months have been tough. With the children fully immersed in their studies and the discontinuation of the pen pal program, I hardly ever saw some of my 3rd years. To make things worse, I had a terrible high ankle sprain that made mobility quite difficult...the school is not built for crutches. Therefore, I couldn't eat lunch with my kids for a whole month. To add insult to injury, my antagonist, the English teacher, told me not to come to any more 3rd year classes. She told me that I was not needed for test taking. Load of bull. My other English teacher had me go to almost every class to help with the 3rd years prep for the tests. But alas, my relationship with 3-1 class was hindered.
And so that's my lengthy background. I care for my 3rd years. My relationship with them sometimes feel like that of a divorced father who lost a custody battle. I try my best to see them but the ex (English teacher) denies me access. And as I see them grow up, I am saddened by the fact that I couldn't be there for them more. The life of an ALT. But does it really have to be that way? I'm fighting the good fight but I can certainly do more.
And so, March 17th, marked three things: Jenn's birthday, St. Patrick's Day, and my children's graduation. Every day leading up to this special day was rainy and ugly. But on this one particular, perfect day, it was nice and sunny. The ceremony was heart warming. You see, while American graduations involve only the graduating class, in Japan, all classes (yr 1,2 3) attend. The 1st and 2nd years are there to send off their senpai. Club groups gather to present gifts to the graduating class in honor of their time with the teams. It was very touching...there is a strong unity amongst the students crossing grades. And so, as the graduation drew to a close, and as the children sang "yell", people just began to cry. The 3rd years, who have bodies of full grown adults, balled like the children they are. Even Tanaka, the toughest of the graduating class, had teary eyes. In turn, the 2nd and 1st graders were crying too. I could hear constant sniffling sounds and I observed the anguish on their faces. Seeing my children in such pain...it really hit me hard. They really care about each other. And then I glanced over and saw my fellow teachers. Sniffle sniffle. While I escaped without breaking down this year, I think next year I will break down. Like I said before, I love my 2nd years, and to see them all off....I'll be drunk off of emotions. And I wouldn't want it any other way.
Before I share my graduation experience, I want to provide insight into my relationship with my students. There are times I wish I made a greater effort to make a connection but I am grateful for the relationships I did manage to make. In the beginning it was difficult for me as I had to deal with chronic illness and homesickness. With the falling leaves and windy autumn nights, there was a cold, sinking feeling of loneliness. Days got shorter, it got chillier, holidays got overlooked and I was in miserable state. But I kept truckin', as my Outward Bound instructor Cully told me years back. And so the Sports day gave me an opportunity to mingle with the children outside the classroom. It was a success as I was able to make new friends and make many inside jokes. And during the competitions I saw for the first time how talented my children were...they made me proud. Not only was their physical strength admirable, their discipline and commitment to nail routines was amazing. The leaders of the groups (Tanaka Yuki, Shigeaki, Natsuko) were very impressive with their ability to command the attention of their peers. Everyone worked hard. The Japanese student is hard working by nature...they stay after school everyday until 530 or 6 either doing a club activity or studies.
There were other moments. Every day I had lunch with the children (rotating by grade level). Some days I managed to start a conversation and other days were just awkward. All in Japanese...At first everyone wanted to get a piece of me as they asked me countless questions. But as I settled in, I was no longer the center of attention. And while I can have a relatively intelligent conversation in Japanese, my mastery of the language leaves much to be desired. I want to talk to my children about politics, economy, travel, the state of the world. But no, I struggle to describe my love for basketball. Sometimes I can get through to the kids (I taught one kid why the Americans bombed Hiroshima) but other times they look at me befuddled. I want to study Japanese for my children...but alas, I have been more comfortable reading The Count of Monte Cristo, building my English vocabulary, and studying economics from good old Krugen. That's right, I'm reading a text book for "fun". The plan is to take the GRE, get into UCSD's International Relations and Pacific Studies major, get an awesome internship and become a diplomat. Perhaps a JLPT 2 along the way to bolster my resume to nab a job with an NGO or state department. Maybe business? I dunno, but I'm working my way up to it by studying words like ante meridiem and voracious. I suppose the latter describes my ambitions.
Sports day, lunch, what else? The classroom sounds appropriate, right? Unfortunately, my relations with one particular English teacher is rather frigid. She's notoriously difficult with ALTs and younger instructors. I tried everything get along with her but it's been like ripping out teeth. Bloody and excrutiatingly painful. While I praise her creative lesson plans, she hardly uses me in lessons...unless I confront her after class. This teacher is responsible for 2nd years and half the 3rd years classes. Consequently, my relationship with my children is affected by her. With the 2nd years, who I have incredible rapport, I decided to attend their social studies class on occasion to spend more time with them. It was very successful as they began to really take a liking to me for that. I got describe the American perspective on WWII, explain the American geopgraphy, and offer insight into other things American. Similarly, I decided to do something to maintain a relationship with my 3rd years. And so I started a Pen Pal Program (Pen Friends).
As some of you may have heard, I began a Pen Pal program at my school. I suggested the idea to my English teachers during the summer but I was shut down immediately. Couple months later, I approached the 3rd year teacher, wrote out a detailed, bulleted agenda for the program and got him to approve. Then I took it to the principal and got his okay. The program was special as it was with my old elementary school: Clarendon. In fact, I worked with Mr. Hippard, my old 5th grade teacher, as we exchanged many emails to make this program work. I was able to get 14 of my 3rd years to participate in the program and all were successful in writing 2 letters. I created worksheets, fake letter examples (they were addressed to you James Chiu), etc. I actually got my own classroom and taught grammar, how to write letters and shared with them a little about my home, San Francisco. I finally felt like a teacher. The students wrote about their hobbies, the holidays, etc. The experience was absolutely wonderful. I was under constant stress, though, as I had to meet a deadline (January) as the children had to begin their studies for high school exams. And with all sorts of activities, it was a nightmare to find appropriate times to meet. All of this would have been impossible if I didn't have the help of my friend, Kanako. She's the assistant English teacher (she's Japanese). She helped write up progress reports to our faculty, communicated important information to the students and helped me immensely with the project. This project not only allowed me to get closer to the children but it gave me hope and freedom. No longer was I constrained by the coursebook, no longer did I have to abide by my teacher's rules. I got to teach whatever the hell I wanted, the way I wanted. It made the English teacher I don't get along with irritated, to say the least. Kanako and I took great pleasure in it, to say the least.
In addition to the pen pal letter, I gave Shorenji Kempo a try to get to know one of my students, Kaito. He's one of my favorite students as he's incredibly smart, diligent, and down to earth. Plus he loves basketball. While I did not stick it out with the karate, I am glad that I was able to make a connection with him.
The last couple of months have been tough. With the children fully immersed in their studies and the discontinuation of the pen pal program, I hardly ever saw some of my 3rd years. To make things worse, I had a terrible high ankle sprain that made mobility quite difficult...the school is not built for crutches. Therefore, I couldn't eat lunch with my kids for a whole month. To add insult to injury, my antagonist, the English teacher, told me not to come to any more 3rd year classes. She told me that I was not needed for test taking. Load of bull. My other English teacher had me go to almost every class to help with the 3rd years prep for the tests. But alas, my relationship with 3-1 class was hindered.
And so that's my lengthy background. I care for my 3rd years. My relationship with them sometimes feel like that of a divorced father who lost a custody battle. I try my best to see them but the ex (English teacher) denies me access. And as I see them grow up, I am saddened by the fact that I couldn't be there for them more. The life of an ALT. But does it really have to be that way? I'm fighting the good fight but I can certainly do more.
And so, March 17th, marked three things: Jenn's birthday, St. Patrick's Day, and my children's graduation. Every day leading up to this special day was rainy and ugly. But on this one particular, perfect day, it was nice and sunny. The ceremony was heart warming. You see, while American graduations involve only the graduating class, in Japan, all classes (yr 1,2 3) attend. The 1st and 2nd years are there to send off their senpai. Club groups gather to present gifts to the graduating class in honor of their time with the teams. It was very touching...there is a strong unity amongst the students crossing grades. And so, as the graduation drew to a close, and as the children sang "yell", people just began to cry. The 3rd years, who have bodies of full grown adults, balled like the children they are. Even Tanaka, the toughest of the graduating class, had teary eyes. In turn, the 2nd and 1st graders were crying too. I could hear constant sniffling sounds and I observed the anguish on their faces. Seeing my children in such pain...it really hit me hard. They really care about each other. And then I glanced over and saw my fellow teachers. Sniffle sniffle. While I escaped without breaking down this year, I think next year I will break down. Like I said before, I love my 2nd years, and to see them all off....I'll be drunk off of emotions. And I wouldn't want it any other way.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Part VI: Taraboat, Return of Bangkok, Nara
1/13/10
Well it’s been five days since my last entry but I suppose better late than never. I am currently back in little Ikata-cho. I sit here in my office on this snowy and windy day to recount events in tropical paradise. I left off after an evening with bourgeois Cambodian society. Here we go, reaching deep into my memory bank.
From what I remember, Jenn and I got an early start on the Tara Boat tour. We got up especially early so we could finish packing. The unexciting eater that I am, I ordered the standard mushroom omelet and toast while my more exciting foodie companion ordered some sort of noodle dish. Food choice is supposed to reflect your personality and your level of spontaniety and excitement. I tend to get the same thing all the time…I blame my weak stomach, which I inheritted from my father, but at times I wish I was more adventurous in my foot selection. Perhaps there’s some empty sense of fidelity for these foods that have served me well over the years. With that said, I have my moments when I throw caution into the wind and get whatever the hell I want. I guess that’s my personality, I tend to like stability but on occasion, I get ridiculously spontaneous. Gotta spice it up every so often. Unless you’re like me and you hate spices.
By 8am we were off to the Ton Le Lake with our overly energetic and talkative guide. He spoke fine English but he had a regular motor of a mouth…quite too energetic for my tastes at this hour of day. He was very friendly, though, so I was grateful to have him as our guide.
The cab our guide drove us in was in poor condition. How bad? 3/4 of the door handles were either missing or not functionable. Death trip. When we got to the lake, we were met by the skipper of our boat and a boy about age five. They both did not know a lick of English. And so we embarked on our journey into the unknown on a 8 hour tour. On a 8 hour tour.
As we motored along the bank, we saw many shanty houses. With the constantly fluctuating water level from the wet to dry season, many of the houses had some form of floating capabilities. People lived on water houses, with hammocks as beds and everything. There were little boys and girls, often naked, in small tin bowls floating in the water...a gentle wake would surely sink their delicate vessel. Our guide took us to a gecko museum where we saw some information on the wetlands and the species living in it. I was disappointed I couldn’t sit and read it as his brief explanation seemed quite abridged. Afterwards, the skipper and Gilligan, aka half pint, took us to the floating market where there were motion-less crocodiles, many Korean college students, and a sneaky salesgirl with a snake. Jenn and I jumped at the opportunity to put the huge snake around our necks and pose for the camera. The girl was equally eager to collect cash for her slithery friend.
We then went towards the flooded forest. Our skipper went to take a nap on the hammock while Jenn and I took turns steering the boat. I felt like Dwight of The Office in the “Booze Cruise” episode. In the episode, he was given the “responsibility” to man a dummy steering wheel on a ship. While we actually did control the direction of the vessel, the assignment seemed quite insignificant. But it was fun and somewhat therapeutic…kind of like joy-riding…an opportunity to just let the mind wander.
Eventually we arrived at the flooded forest where the guide, Jenn and I hopped on a smaller paddle boat as we got taken around the forest.It was rocky but fun. In no time we reached a lake town. It was really ghetto and were badgered by several young women trying to get us to buy overpriced supplies for the children at the local school. They tried buttering us up but we were on to their game and decided to just donate to the class directly. We ate some sugared bread and shrimp…at the risk of explosive diahrea (in memory of the Shanghai crew and Jason Tong’s fragile bowels). Then we headed back to the large Tara Boat anchored in the middle of the lake for some lunch and a nap on the glorious hammocks.
Then we went back to the Kazna to play a couple round of pool, sip on some fruit drinks and chilled before our trip to the airport. To our pleasant surprise, our wonderful guide from Angkor Wat picked us up. He’s a bright young man that will go far if provided enough opportunities. When we got to the airport, I decided to exchange my currency. Had a small feud with the “raging bitch” at the country. We seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Arrived in Bangkok, took a cab to the “Vibrant” which was quite difficult to find. Hella awkward set up but the bed was comfy as hell.
The next day we went all over Bangkok doing the things were wanted to do our first day in the city. With Jenn’s flight postponed due to strong winds in Nagoya, we had lost one day together in Bangkok. And so we went to the Grand Palace, MBK shopping mall and Chatichat street market before our respective flights to Kansai airport. Busy busy. Our first stop was at the Grand Palace where we had an eccentric but entertaining guide. The man was in his 70s and I couldn’t understand him for the life of me but he was amusing. From marriage jokes to his infatuation with the Buddhist religion, he was hilarious. He was quick to point out the hall spire structures were giant phallus representations. And that in Hinduism there is no discrimination towards the union of different species (humans and animals). Also if one killed a certain type of animal in his past life, he’d undoubtedly have features of that creature in his next life. At the end of the tour, he was quite eager to show us a picture of his wife but unfortunately had misplaced it.
Next we were off to MBK. This huge mall had a disgusting amount of merchandise. While Jenn checked out shoes, which is only 2nd to her obsession with street food, I strolled around pretending to be interested in some clothes. Once she wa done, I catered to the one thing on my mind: the wellbeing of my stomach. We went to this awesome crepe restaurant called the Busy Bee (something like that). Jenn loved the ambiance of the establishment as it was everything she wants in her future restaurant…except for the bees and honey comb like pipes across the ceiling. She had the spinach lasagne while I had the salmon crepe with gnochi & spinach- heaven. After the mall, we checked out Chatichat as I was in search of all my omiyage. I was successful but had seemed to hit a wall as we headed to Osaka.
The red eye in kansai airport wasn’t as brutal as it was anticipated. I knocked out the whole way through and woke up relatively refreshed. After a quick shower at the airport lounge, we were back on our feet on a train to Nara. Once we were there, we met my cousin, her kid and my aunt. We checked out the deers and Todaiji temple. Jenn seemed to really enjoy herself so it was worth it. After, we went to a Japanese restaurant called さとwhere Jenn had the best tuskiyaki of her life. I had a mean assortment of foods too that made my stomach smile. When all that was done, we took Jenn to the airport and we waited til her flight. My cousin seemed to really like her so she kept trying to buy her things. After she left, I went back to my cousin’s to sleep…for a whole 14 hours. The next day I got on the flight back to Matsuyama and thus my epic trip was over.
At Kansai airport, Jenn commented on how the last week felt like a month as we did so much. She said it was as if we fell into a time warp where time slowed down as we experienced a ton of stuff. It sure felt like that as it was an exhausting but worthwhile trip. My body is worn out but my mind is reinvigorated. I was really falling into a rut…a lonely Thanksgiving, a lonely Christmas…I have a new pep to my step. Just in time for the brutal month of January. I hope I can embark on a journey some time in the near future. Until then, good night from Ikata-cho.
Well it’s been five days since my last entry but I suppose better late than never. I am currently back in little Ikata-cho. I sit here in my office on this snowy and windy day to recount events in tropical paradise. I left off after an evening with bourgeois Cambodian society. Here we go, reaching deep into my memory bank.
From what I remember, Jenn and I got an early start on the Tara Boat tour. We got up especially early so we could finish packing. The unexciting eater that I am, I ordered the standard mushroom omelet and toast while my more exciting foodie companion ordered some sort of noodle dish. Food choice is supposed to reflect your personality and your level of spontaniety and excitement. I tend to get the same thing all the time…I blame my weak stomach, which I inheritted from my father, but at times I wish I was more adventurous in my foot selection. Perhaps there’s some empty sense of fidelity for these foods that have served me well over the years. With that said, I have my moments when I throw caution into the wind and get whatever the hell I want. I guess that’s my personality, I tend to like stability but on occasion, I get ridiculously spontaneous. Gotta spice it up every so often. Unless you’re like me and you hate spices.
By 8am we were off to the Ton Le Lake with our overly energetic and talkative guide. He spoke fine English but he had a regular motor of a mouth…quite too energetic for my tastes at this hour of day. He was very friendly, though, so I was grateful to have him as our guide.
The cab our guide drove us in was in poor condition. How bad? 3/4 of the door handles were either missing or not functionable. Death trip. When we got to the lake, we were met by the skipper of our boat and a boy about age five. They both did not know a lick of English. And so we embarked on our journey into the unknown on a 8 hour tour. On a 8 hour tour.
As we motored along the bank, we saw many shanty houses. With the constantly fluctuating water level from the wet to dry season, many of the houses had some form of floating capabilities. People lived on water houses, with hammocks as beds and everything. There were little boys and girls, often naked, in small tin bowls floating in the water...a gentle wake would surely sink their delicate vessel. Our guide took us to a gecko museum where we saw some information on the wetlands and the species living in it. I was disappointed I couldn’t sit and read it as his brief explanation seemed quite abridged. Afterwards, the skipper and Gilligan, aka half pint, took us to the floating market where there were motion-less crocodiles, many Korean college students, and a sneaky salesgirl with a snake. Jenn and I jumped at the opportunity to put the huge snake around our necks and pose for the camera. The girl was equally eager to collect cash for her slithery friend.
We then went towards the flooded forest. Our skipper went to take a nap on the hammock while Jenn and I took turns steering the boat. I felt like Dwight of The Office in the “Booze Cruise” episode. In the episode, he was given the “responsibility” to man a dummy steering wheel on a ship. While we actually did control the direction of the vessel, the assignment seemed quite insignificant. But it was fun and somewhat therapeutic…kind of like joy-riding…an opportunity to just let the mind wander.
Eventually we arrived at the flooded forest where the guide, Jenn and I hopped on a smaller paddle boat as we got taken around the forest.It was rocky but fun. In no time we reached a lake town. It was really ghetto and were badgered by several young women trying to get us to buy overpriced supplies for the children at the local school. They tried buttering us up but we were on to their game and decided to just donate to the class directly. We ate some sugared bread and shrimp…at the risk of explosive diahrea (in memory of the Shanghai crew and Jason Tong’s fragile bowels). Then we headed back to the large Tara Boat anchored in the middle of the lake for some lunch and a nap on the glorious hammocks.
Then we went back to the Kazna to play a couple round of pool, sip on some fruit drinks and chilled before our trip to the airport. To our pleasant surprise, our wonderful guide from Angkor Wat picked us up. He’s a bright young man that will go far if provided enough opportunities. When we got to the airport, I decided to exchange my currency. Had a small feud with the “raging bitch” at the country. We seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Arrived in Bangkok, took a cab to the “Vibrant” which was quite difficult to find. Hella awkward set up but the bed was comfy as hell.
The next day we went all over Bangkok doing the things were wanted to do our first day in the city. With Jenn’s flight postponed due to strong winds in Nagoya, we had lost one day together in Bangkok. And so we went to the Grand Palace, MBK shopping mall and Chatichat street market before our respective flights to Kansai airport. Busy busy. Our first stop was at the Grand Palace where we had an eccentric but entertaining guide. The man was in his 70s and I couldn’t understand him for the life of me but he was amusing. From marriage jokes to his infatuation with the Buddhist religion, he was hilarious. He was quick to point out the hall spire structures were giant phallus representations. And that in Hinduism there is no discrimination towards the union of different species (humans and animals). Also if one killed a certain type of animal in his past life, he’d undoubtedly have features of that creature in his next life. At the end of the tour, he was quite eager to show us a picture of his wife but unfortunately had misplaced it.
Next we were off to MBK. This huge mall had a disgusting amount of merchandise. While Jenn checked out shoes, which is only 2nd to her obsession with street food, I strolled around pretending to be interested in some clothes. Once she wa done, I catered to the one thing on my mind: the wellbeing of my stomach. We went to this awesome crepe restaurant called the Busy Bee (something like that). Jenn loved the ambiance of the establishment as it was everything she wants in her future restaurant…except for the bees and honey comb like pipes across the ceiling. She had the spinach lasagne while I had the salmon crepe with gnochi & spinach- heaven. After the mall, we checked out Chatichat as I was in search of all my omiyage. I was successful but had seemed to hit a wall as we headed to Osaka.
The red eye in kansai airport wasn’t as brutal as it was anticipated. I knocked out the whole way through and woke up relatively refreshed. After a quick shower at the airport lounge, we were back on our feet on a train to Nara. Once we were there, we met my cousin, her kid and my aunt. We checked out the deers and Todaiji temple. Jenn seemed to really enjoy herself so it was worth it. After, we went to a Japanese restaurant called さとwhere Jenn had the best tuskiyaki of her life. I had a mean assortment of foods too that made my stomach smile. When all that was done, we took Jenn to the airport and we waited til her flight. My cousin seemed to really like her so she kept trying to buy her things. After she left, I went back to my cousin’s to sleep…for a whole 14 hours. The next day I got on the flight back to Matsuyama and thus my epic trip was over.
At Kansai airport, Jenn commented on how the last week felt like a month as we did so much. She said it was as if we fell into a time warp where time slowed down as we experienced a ton of stuff. It sure felt like that as it was an exhausting but worthwhile trip. My body is worn out but my mind is reinvigorated. I was really falling into a rut…a lonely Thanksgiving, a lonely Christmas…I have a new pep to my step. Just in time for the brutal month of January. I hope I can embark on a journey some time in the near future. Until then, good night from Ikata-cho.
Part V: ATVing across the Cambodian Countryside
1/7/10
After a full day of walking around Angkor Wat, our bodies needed some rest. It’s our vacation, after all, and we deserve to sleep in every so often. And so we did not leave our hotel until 11:30 am as we headed out to KFC for brunch. As usual, Jenn, the adventurous foodie, decided to get some strange macaroni and chicken thing from the Colonel. I got mashed potatoes, cold slaw, a biscuit and chicken. As I was deprived of a traditional Thanksgiving this year, it was pleasant to have such a dish today. Shortly thereafter we were off to the ATV place.
The Atving was freaking awesome. We got to cruise around the Cambodian countryisde on four wheel motorbikes. The various landscapes ranging from dirt roads, wooded areas and open plains made the trip all the more exciting. Children waved to us all throughout our trip. There were even the occassional naked child who decided to run out of their homes to pay us a visit. In many ways it reminded me of my trip to Tibet 2 years ago. During my trip, I would be driving hours without seeing a person in site; however, the moment we stopped the vehicle, tens of children would come out of the mountains just to say hi. Children are the same across in the world. Initially, it was difficult gaining full control over the vehicle; however, in no time, I was jetting down the country road without a care in the world. Our caravan was led by this French man by the name of Max. When I brought up my ties to San Francisco, he quickly opened up as he shared his own experiences in what he described as “one of the most beautiful cities in the world”. I couldn’t agree more. He told me about the 49ers and how they used to be good. I’m always ready to talk football. Other people in our caravan included a huge Australian family (2 parents, 5 children) and a couple of Cambodians who were working for Max. We had seen the Australian family at the Market Motel in Aranyapraphet so it was a surprise to see them. After the Atving, they told us of their dairy farm and how the drought in their town had forced them to give up the business.
As for the ride, it was absolutely amazing. I felt so alive, zooming down the countryside. I loved slowly going into a turn and accelerating out of them. With that statement I am reminded of my mother who used to compare the sharp turns down O'shaughnessy to downhill skiing. The bumpy terrain and dust that kicked up made it even more fun. By the end of it, I was VERY dusty but it was alright. In fact, I was very happy to be dirt because the whiff of the dust gave me an invaluable sense of nostaligia. Back to my time in Tibet. When I made my journey to Mt. Kailash on jeeps the roads were very dusty. In fact, dust would seap into our cars constantly. The dust reminded me of the wild trip to Tibet. That’s what I love about the sense of smell, it triggers a sense of nostalia unmatched by the other four senses. It’s immediate and short lived but the memory is made distinct. Music is similar but the sense of smell is even more powerful.
And so our Atving lasted 2 1/4 hours. We visited an orphanage where we met a wonderful boy with a mastery of the English language. Apparently they wake up at 4 am every day and study English AND Japanese. Incredible. Saw some Westerners playing with the kids…I think they might be Peace Corps volunteers or the equivalent. We also witnessed a funeral procession for a membe of the village. The Quad adventure was a resounding success. Afterwards, Jenn and I went back to the Kazna to get some fruit drinks and play some pool. That moment on the roof, the sun gently shinning in, the tasty drink in hand , the city at our skyline, and the great company- nothing could be better. At that moment, I was truly living a life that all hedonists aspire to. I felt completely relaxed, happy with everything. This trip has been what I needed and some.
We then had a quick dinner at the “Lucky Mall” and ate pizza and burgers. The burger reminded me of In n Out and the pizza of CPK. Felt like I was back in Los Angeles. Also the type of people at the mall were quite different from the tuk tuk drivers and merchants of our neighborhood. This bourgeois community provided helpful insight into another social class in Cambodian society. Fascinating. Well, I grow wearily so I will end it here.
After a full day of walking around Angkor Wat, our bodies needed some rest. It’s our vacation, after all, and we deserve to sleep in every so often. And so we did not leave our hotel until 11:30 am as we headed out to KFC for brunch. As usual, Jenn, the adventurous foodie, decided to get some strange macaroni and chicken thing from the Colonel. I got mashed potatoes, cold slaw, a biscuit and chicken. As I was deprived of a traditional Thanksgiving this year, it was pleasant to have such a dish today. Shortly thereafter we were off to the ATV place.
The Atving was freaking awesome. We got to cruise around the Cambodian countryisde on four wheel motorbikes. The various landscapes ranging from dirt roads, wooded areas and open plains made the trip all the more exciting. Children waved to us all throughout our trip. There were even the occassional naked child who decided to run out of their homes to pay us a visit. In many ways it reminded me of my trip to Tibet 2 years ago. During my trip, I would be driving hours without seeing a person in site; however, the moment we stopped the vehicle, tens of children would come out of the mountains just to say hi. Children are the same across in the world. Initially, it was difficult gaining full control over the vehicle; however, in no time, I was jetting down the country road without a care in the world. Our caravan was led by this French man by the name of Max. When I brought up my ties to San Francisco, he quickly opened up as he shared his own experiences in what he described as “one of the most beautiful cities in the world”. I couldn’t agree more. He told me about the 49ers and how they used to be good. I’m always ready to talk football. Other people in our caravan included a huge Australian family (2 parents, 5 children) and a couple of Cambodians who were working for Max. We had seen the Australian family at the Market Motel in Aranyapraphet so it was a surprise to see them. After the Atving, they told us of their dairy farm and how the drought in their town had forced them to give up the business.
As for the ride, it was absolutely amazing. I felt so alive, zooming down the countryside. I loved slowly going into a turn and accelerating out of them. With that statement I am reminded of my mother who used to compare the sharp turns down O'shaughnessy to downhill skiing. The bumpy terrain and dust that kicked up made it even more fun. By the end of it, I was VERY dusty but it was alright. In fact, I was very happy to be dirt because the whiff of the dust gave me an invaluable sense of nostaligia. Back to my time in Tibet. When I made my journey to Mt. Kailash on jeeps the roads were very dusty. In fact, dust would seap into our cars constantly. The dust reminded me of the wild trip to Tibet. That’s what I love about the sense of smell, it triggers a sense of nostalia unmatched by the other four senses. It’s immediate and short lived but the memory is made distinct. Music is similar but the sense of smell is even more powerful.
And so our Atving lasted 2 1/4 hours. We visited an orphanage where we met a wonderful boy with a mastery of the English language. Apparently they wake up at 4 am every day and study English AND Japanese. Incredible. Saw some Westerners playing with the kids…I think they might be Peace Corps volunteers or the equivalent. We also witnessed a funeral procession for a membe of the village. The Quad adventure was a resounding success. Afterwards, Jenn and I went back to the Kazna to get some fruit drinks and play some pool. That moment on the roof, the sun gently shinning in, the tasty drink in hand , the city at our skyline, and the great company- nothing could be better. At that moment, I was truly living a life that all hedonists aspire to. I felt completely relaxed, happy with everything. This trip has been what I needed and some.
We then had a quick dinner at the “Lucky Mall” and ate pizza and burgers. The burger reminded me of In n Out and the pizza of CPK. Felt like I was back in Los Angeles. Also the type of people at the mall were quite different from the tuk tuk drivers and merchants of our neighborhood. This bourgeois community provided helpful insight into another social class in Cambodian society. Fascinating. Well, I grow wearily so I will end it here.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Part IV: Angkor Wat
1/6/10 Angkor Wat
The world famous Angkor Wat was next on our agenda. We traveled a long distance to catch a glimpse of this incredible site. The Kazna won more points as it hooked us up with a magnificent tour guide. He knew absolutely everything there is to know about the structures. He was particularly knowledgeable of the reliefs at Bayon. He was a regular history book as he constantly spit out dates, obscure names and random stories. Above all, his ability to make the narratives on the reliefs come to life was especially impressive. From the Ramayana to Mahabharata, we were immersed in his stories. We could picture Rama shooting his arrow, we saw the headless demon Rahu trying to steal the immortality elixer, we were there for the Monkey King's triumphant arrival.
My favorite story: the Gods and Demons were both interested in acquiring immortality water. In order to do so, they needed to churn milk by pulling on a large snake. On one end were the Gods and the other Demons. After this deed was done, the water was to appear on one side. This was done for 1000 years. The demons won but Vishnu/Krishna? thought better than to let the demons have it. So the moon and sun intervened and stole the water from the demons and gave it to the Gods. One particular demon, Rahu, angrily tried to steal the elixer back. In fact, he took a sip of it; however, moments after, his head was chopped off by the moon and sun. While the elixer keeps him alive, he is decapitated. And so, this floating head, angry at the heavens occassionally tries to cover the moon and sun in what we know as lunar and solar eclipses.
When he wasn't talking about these epic Hindu stories, he described in detail the daily lifestyles of the Angkor Wat people in the 11/12th century through the reliefs. In fact, there was a particular relief that struck a cord with me: apparently, they were fond of longboating...the vessel looked very much like a dragonboat. While we were limited to one day, our tour guide did an awesome job getting us to all the hot spots: Bayon faces, Ta Prohm (jungle temple/laura croft temple), Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom, the Terrace of the Elephants and to cap off the day, a sunset the pyramid temple, Phnom Bakheng. Now a short recap of each site.
Bayon faces: These structures were made by a king around the 12th century. The reliefs depict a battle with the Vietnam Empire (Cham). Apparently the Chinese were valuable allies to the Khmer people. The faces were quite amusing as their thick lips and mysterious smiles humanized them...it was as if they were withholding a secret from all the humans. The things that these massive heads have probably seen. Many tourists try to pose with the faces, use clever angles to make it appear as if they are kissing the faces. Oh Bayon faces, no wonder you're so happy, sly devil you.
Ta Prohm: The Jungle temple or Laura Croft's Tomb Raider temple is popular for its fusion of nature and architecture. Over the years many trees have managed to grow within the temple. Their trunks rap around the walls and their roots manage to imbed itself within the temple foundation. How does this happen? Birds eat seeds, birds poop seeds. Bird poops on temples, trees eat temple. Unfortunately, when a tree dies, it collapses; consequently, dislodging stones and compromising the structure. Like true tourists, Jenn and I posed at all the checkpoints at the temple. A fascinating structure.
Terrace of Elephants: A popular terrace for elephant fights. The king would watch them. As a I imagined these huge mammals duking it out with their massive tusks, I thought back to earlier today when I was riding Jesse, our friendly elephant.
Angkor Wat: The main structure. It's surrounded by a massive moat and there is an outer wall with a large field within. Have you every played the Legend of Zelda on N64? You know the field, that connected the whole map together? Well, the Angkor Fields was alot like that and Angkor Wat is comparable to Hyrule castle. Dude, Zelda was so much fun. Back to Angkor. There was alot of care put in the intricate reliefs. There were so many volumptuous Apsara dancers. "My Humps"-Black Eyed Peas.
Phnom Bakheng: The sunset. The steps up to the top of the temple were extremely steep. People were climbing the structure like it was some sort of climbing wall at Mission Cliffs. There were so many people. It was interesting to see so many people from different parts of the world...all gathered for one singular purpose-watch a simple sunset. After a full day of temple hopping, however, these tourists were aggitated. No, we were all not holding hands and singing "We are the World". JET peeps, you feel me, right? This one douche bag decided to climb a tall stone structure right in front of the sunset. People began yelling at him, all in many different languages. I thought it was particularly amusing so I took a picture of him. This foo was Rahu's dopplganger/reincarnate, hella blocking the sun.
After everything was done, our driver and tour guide dropped us off and we gave them a big tip for their services. It was a long day and Jenn decided to knock out early.
The world famous Angkor Wat was next on our agenda. We traveled a long distance to catch a glimpse of this incredible site. The Kazna won more points as it hooked us up with a magnificent tour guide. He knew absolutely everything there is to know about the structures. He was particularly knowledgeable of the reliefs at Bayon. He was a regular history book as he constantly spit out dates, obscure names and random stories. Above all, his ability to make the narratives on the reliefs come to life was especially impressive. From the Ramayana to Mahabharata, we were immersed in his stories. We could picture Rama shooting his arrow, we saw the headless demon Rahu trying to steal the immortality elixer, we were there for the Monkey King's triumphant arrival.
My favorite story: the Gods and Demons were both interested in acquiring immortality water. In order to do so, they needed to churn milk by pulling on a large snake. On one end were the Gods and the other Demons. After this deed was done, the water was to appear on one side. This was done for 1000 years. The demons won but Vishnu/Krishna? thought better than to let the demons have it. So the moon and sun intervened and stole the water from the demons and gave it to the Gods. One particular demon, Rahu, angrily tried to steal the elixer back. In fact, he took a sip of it; however, moments after, his head was chopped off by the moon and sun. While the elixer keeps him alive, he is decapitated. And so, this floating head, angry at the heavens occassionally tries to cover the moon and sun in what we know as lunar and solar eclipses.
When he wasn't talking about these epic Hindu stories, he described in detail the daily lifestyles of the Angkor Wat people in the 11/12th century through the reliefs. In fact, there was a particular relief that struck a cord with me: apparently, they were fond of longboating...the vessel looked very much like a dragonboat. While we were limited to one day, our tour guide did an awesome job getting us to all the hot spots: Bayon faces, Ta Prohm (jungle temple/laura croft temple), Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom, the Terrace of the Elephants and to cap off the day, a sunset the pyramid temple, Phnom Bakheng. Now a short recap of each site.
Bayon faces: These structures were made by a king around the 12th century. The reliefs depict a battle with the Vietnam Empire (Cham). Apparently the Chinese were valuable allies to the Khmer people. The faces were quite amusing as their thick lips and mysterious smiles humanized them...it was as if they were withholding a secret from all the humans. The things that these massive heads have probably seen. Many tourists try to pose with the faces, use clever angles to make it appear as if they are kissing the faces. Oh Bayon faces, no wonder you're so happy, sly devil you.
Ta Prohm: The Jungle temple or Laura Croft's Tomb Raider temple is popular for its fusion of nature and architecture. Over the years many trees have managed to grow within the temple. Their trunks rap around the walls and their roots manage to imbed itself within the temple foundation. How does this happen? Birds eat seeds, birds poop seeds. Bird poops on temples, trees eat temple. Unfortunately, when a tree dies, it collapses; consequently, dislodging stones and compromising the structure. Like true tourists, Jenn and I posed at all the checkpoints at the temple. A fascinating structure.
Terrace of Elephants: A popular terrace for elephant fights. The king would watch them. As a I imagined these huge mammals duking it out with their massive tusks, I thought back to earlier today when I was riding Jesse, our friendly elephant.
Angkor Wat: The main structure. It's surrounded by a massive moat and there is an outer wall with a large field within. Have you every played the Legend of Zelda on N64? You know the field, that connected the whole map together? Well, the Angkor Fields was alot like that and Angkor Wat is comparable to Hyrule castle. Dude, Zelda was so much fun. Back to Angkor. There was alot of care put in the intricate reliefs. There were so many volumptuous Apsara dancers. "My Humps"-Black Eyed Peas.
Phnom Bakheng: The sunset. The steps up to the top of the temple were extremely steep. People were climbing the structure like it was some sort of climbing wall at Mission Cliffs. There were so many people. It was interesting to see so many people from different parts of the world...all gathered for one singular purpose-watch a simple sunset. After a full day of temple hopping, however, these tourists were aggitated. No, we were all not holding hands and singing "We are the World". JET peeps, you feel me, right? This one douche bag decided to climb a tall stone structure right in front of the sunset. People began yelling at him, all in many different languages. I thought it was particularly amusing so I took a picture of him. This foo was Rahu's dopplganger/reincarnate, hella blocking the sun.
After everything was done, our driver and tour guide dropped us off and we gave them a big tip for their services. It was a long day and Jenn decided to knock out early.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)