Summer here, kiiidds

Here come the Rome plows...

2009-08-11T10:33:00.000-07:00

After Interlaken, I hopped a train down to the Cinque Terre in Italy, a stretch of stunning coastline, several miles long, featuring five tiny, charming-as-hell villages. The citizens of these villages have done an incredible job preserving their little slice of heaven, not allowing cars to come in and being militant about the environmental issues that affect them. As a result, the air is fresh, litter is nonexistant, and the water is a clear, blue and clean.

I started at the southern-most village and started walking. I didn't plan on it but I ended up hiking the whole thing, right around six miles. Here are some things that I saw along the way...

It was hot as hell outside and the last few miles of the hike were surprisingly strenuous. So when I reached the last village I hopped in ocean for what proved to be one of the most refreshing dips that I've ever had...

Then I got drunk off local wine and sangria...

There were even a couple stretches where graffiti artists were allowed to show their stuff...

The next day I came down to Rome. You know, that place that we've been hearing about since we were little kids? That cornerstone of civilization, progress and collapse? Yeah, that place. I've been here for just over 24 hours, in a city whose history is as rich as flourless dark chocolate cake - so, me trying to write about Rome is kind of like a third grader trying to give a book report on Don Quixote. So, I'm not going to try to explain anything about Rome itself as I will have little to no insight on the subject. But I can tell you a couple things about being an American in Rome...

Walking around Rome as a tourist, it's impossible not to be struck by the ruins. They're thought provoking, interesting, tragic, the whole nine. But after you get over the intital "wow" of seeing a 2,000 year old column standing in front of you, or looking up at the Colosseum, the mind wanders elsewhere. My frame of mind is that of an American, a citizen of a country that is, in certain respects, the culmination of thousands of years of European progress. Add to that, I've been living in Phoenix, Arizona for the last seven years, a place where buildings and streets appear out of nowhere. There are no means in Phoenix, only ends. It's easy to climb Camelback mountain, look at all the sprawl, and be awed by how much stuff is going on.

But atop Camelback mountain, there's no visible history. In Rome, with the ruins of a vast, fallen empire all around you, it brings to light the context of your situation. You see the ends and the means that have all come together - you become aware that there is a historical chain of events that has led to you taking an airplane to the other side of the world, getting your passport stamped, checking into a hostel, and taking a picture of the Colosseum with your digital camera and looking at the display to see how the picture turned out...

I understand, now, how some American's can say, with certainty, "this is the greatest country in the world!" I understand because, being in Rome, one is reminded that that there is a process that leads to a great civilization. This process, the means that bring about the ends, are invisible in the United States. We don't have a Pantheon to remind us of the great, fallen empires of the past...

I wish I could write more about this, but I'm sitting in a McDonald's, using their free wi-fi and they're closing soon so I need to move on... perhaps more when I get home.

So, moving on... Rome is, of course, host to the Vatican City. As you may or may not know, I was brought up in a fundamentalist Christian home. If my faith were a wool sweater, it would have slowly unraveled, some years ago, until I was holding the proverbial ball of yarn that used to be something substantial. But being in Rome, I was drawn to the Vatican like a recovering alcoholic being wooed by the local pub - I just had to get a little taste! So I saw the relics, saw the art, saw the Sistine Chapel and all that...

I attended a Catholic school for five years and the church is, absolutely, fascinating to me. Of course, when I think about Catholicism I think about the immense power, the money, the wars, the Spanish Inquisition, etc. The only mentionin of the Church's dark past (that I saw) was pictured on a couple of huge, metal doors...

I have one more day in Rome and then I'm my way back to the desert, two days earlier than planned. If you can't tell by the detached nature of the last few posts, I'm having a really hard time investing myself in my European experience... I'm too mentally and emotionally distracted to take in, and fully appreciate, the things that he's seeing. I feel like I'm wasting it and I feel ashamed of myself for doing so. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to do more here, sorry that my blog posts are uninteresting. I just can't stop my head from spinning out on the sticky, dramatic, high-stake state of affairs that's waiting for me when I get home. Blah blah blah.

When I get back I plan on posting at least one more entry, likely a long one, in which I will try to process the whole of what I've experienced this summer. But who knows, I might come to McDonalds again tomorrow to give another mini-update.

So I'll be home on Thursday evening. If you live in Phoenix/Tempe, I want to see you this weekend.

Before I leave you, here's some of Rome's nitty gritty...

Bikes, booze and blues

2009-08-06T13:00:00.001-07:00

Things have been looking up since my last post. Money problems are fixed. Heart problems are not, but I'm still alive. I got out of the airport, I hung out in Zurich for a couple days, now I'm in Interlaken.

But first we need to backtrack... I thought that my last pictures of India were deleted but I just recovered them. In light of this discovery, some highlights!

(FYI: Before we begin, I'm extremely tired. So this post will be almost all pictures, very little words.)

This was our last visit to Shelter House...

Ryan was bitten by something while he was sleeping...

And stuff and things...

I'm going to miss this...

Okay, back to the present. After I got out of the airport I hung around Zurich for a couple days with Danielle, one of my India friends...

Chocolate cell phones...

I've been vegetarian for a few years now but before I left, given that I would be visiting other cultures and all, I gave myself permission to eat meat if the time was right. Like I said, India was a veggie paradise, but when Swiss sausage was brought into the picture I simply had to try it. I had about a third and it was delicious...

Does Zurch have the best street sign ever? I think so!!!

From Zurich, I took the trains to Interlaken. I hadn't been on a bike in months and given that biking is one of my absolute favorite things in the world, the first thing I did was go on a long, long ride...

I kept up the physical activity today with a hike. The other people taking the same route were much smarter than me - by starting at the other side they avoided a 2,300 foot climb! Still, it was breathtaking...

Random...

Tomorrow I'm going to take part in some "canyoning." I've never heard this term but it apparently involves navigating a waterfall canyon by means of jumping, repelling and sliding. Sounds good to me.

Before I go, thanks to all of you that sent me kind words, cyber hugs, prayers, thoughts, etc. I truly appreciate it. Be well out there.

Crap cannon

2009-08-02T14:33:00.000-07:00

You know those times when things get so goddamn bad that it just turns into a joke? Yeah, that's about where I am right now. Please allow me to explain... and pardon the jumbled nature of all this - this has been one of the longest and shittiest days of my life... but at least it's funny!!!

First off, If you've been reading this blog since the beginning you'll recall that I lost my debit card in Thailand and Chase Bank is far from helpful in such predicaments. They wouldn't send me the card overseas so I had it sent to my brother's house and he had to FedEx it to me for $50. So, I got my new card but they didn't let me know that they changed the PIN. They won't tell me the new PIN over the phone, but they were more than happy to inform me that they would send it in an envelope to my brother's house and it would arrive in eight to ten business days.

So I woke up today at 5AM India time and took a flight to London, had a five hour layover, now I'm in the Zurich airport about 10 miles outside the city. I've been up for almost 23 hours and, needless to say, I'm jetlagged as hell - so much so that my left eye is totally bloodshot. So here I am, in Zurich and I'm totally broke, no way to get money. I can't use an ATM and all of the stores in the airport use PINs. There was one money changer but, go figure, their credit card machine was down. I can't take the train into town because I have to use a PIN for that too. So I'm stuck in the Zurich airport with no money and no way to leave. There's a Radisson next door but a room is $300, which I can't afford. So I'll be sleeping on the tile tonight... and I don't know what I'm going to do when security wakes me up in the morning since I'll, still, have no money and no way to get around. One of my team members from India is actually in Zurich right now and she gave me her number but I can't figure out how to use the phones to call her.

But that's not all! Oh, no! There's icing on this cake of misery! All the things that I just mentioned wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that I got my heart seriously broken no less than 30 hours ago. So even with all these practical problems the only thing I can think about is the fucked up love situation. I really want to go into detail about that whole debacle but I would probably regret it later. But I'm kind of glad that this combination of heartache and standedness is happening while I'm so tired, otherwise I wouldn't be able to appreciate the pathetic humor.

I wanted so hard, this summer, to step outside of myself and get a different perspective - the big picture, you know? For a little bit there, I thought that I did. But now, just hours after a tearful farewell to the orphans at Shelter House, the only thing I can think about is myself. And here I am backpacking through Europe, an opportunity that most people will never have, and all I can do is feel sorry for myself and want to go home. It's all very embarrassing. It's disgusting, really. Maybe it's the lack of sleep talking, but I'm feeling very ashamed of myself right now.

Sorry... maybe this isn't funny anymore.

Last moments in Chennai

2009-08-01T05:24:00.000-07:00

After two months in Chennai I'll be in route to the airport in less than twelve hours... it's hard to believe.

A few nights ago I got into a conversation with a Chennai woman at a bar, a conversation that I've had with several natives; she asked what I thought of Chennai. This was a brave question for her to ask as Chennai isn't the most glamorous city in the world - to be perfectly frank, it's hot, humid, dirty, and there's no city planning to speak of. So, when I told her that I loved it, which is the truth, a smile flashed across her face and she knowingly said, "so you got used to it!"

That's the way this city works... it's rough around the edges but after you've been here for a while, you get a feel for the city and in fall in love with it's pulse, it's character, and the unflinching drive that pushes it forward, the citizens working hard to improve their families, their communities, their world. I love this city. I'm going to truly miss it and all of the remarkable people that I have come to know.

Oh... I should say something about the food. Before I coming to India I was completely ignorant to Indian cuisine, I thought that I was going to be eating curry day in and day out. Upon arriving, it was clear that I had died and gone to vegetarian heaven! South Indians have veggie cuisine down to a science and I've never had such a wide variety of positively delicious foods, way too many to remember all of the names. The following picture depicts the best meal of the trip. To..... die..... for!

And so, tomorrow, I'm off to Switzerland. I'll be in Europe for just under two weeks and will be hitting up Austria and Italy after my Swiss fix. I know that I'll have a blast but part of me wishes that I were coming back home. Of course, I had similar thoughts before going to Thailand, thinking that I just wanted to get to India and get into my routine. If my time in Europe is anything close to Thailand, I might not want to come home!

And with that, we're entering Phase III of my summer blog.... Euro travel. But before that, here's a bunch of random pictures that didn't fit into earlier posts.

Wish me luck!

A, B, C... it's easy as 1, 2, 3

2009-07-31T04:16:00.000-07:00

At the beginning of this year, when I was trying to make up my mind whether or not to come to India, I had conversations with many of you to hash out my thoughts regarding this trip. I had a lot of doubts and concerns as to the relevance of what I would be doing here, that being HIV/AIDS education. Obviously I decided to go, but my skepticism came with me even as I threw myself into the work that I have been doing this summer.

Fundamentally, I believe that people should be granted access to the information that they need in order to invest in the well-being of themselves, their families and their communities. When I say “invest” I don't mean it in the narrow monetary sense – I'm talking about holistic investment into the physical, emotional and spiritual dimensions that, together, make up a human being. (And I contend that spiritual health is important even though I have no faith to speak of.)

But the concept of investing in one's well-being was also the primary source of my doubts. As a white American with college-educated parents, I was born into a life of privilege that is completely unlike the lives of most human beings, in that most people are not American, not white, and poor. I don't particularly stand out among other young, white Americans but by international standards I'm one of the richest people in the world. The fact that I have time to attend college, yet alone to make music, is the result of my privilege. I have the luxury of worrying about things like HIV. I can do so, largely, because I've never had to worry, say, about where my next meal was going to come from. I've never had to worry about taking care of my parents or siblings. I am able to live my life without societal pressure to get married, have kids, and support a family.

I imagine that if I were living a different life, struggling just to keep my family alive, and some rich adventure-seeking kid with illusions of altruism came up to me and told me that I needed to protect myself against HIV, I might hit them, and they would probably deserve it.

In the months leading up to this summer, things only got worse when I came across a lecture by economist Emily Oster on Ted.com in which she speaks about AIDS in Africa. It's very interesting and if you have a few minutes to spare I highly recommend watching it (along with all the other Ted Talks)...

But I'm going to assume that most people don't feel like watching the video. So, in brief, she argues that that HIV education in Africa has done little to stop the spread of the disease and that economic growth, particularly infrastructure, has had a much greater impact than humanitarian groups holding seminars. She's probably right, for all I know, and her argument fell into line with the rest of my doubts. If I was going to trek to the other side of the world, it would probably be more advantageous to focus on infrastructure, not AIDS education. So I got a little list of other NGOs (ie., Habitat For Humanity) with whom I might want to work this summer. But the previously mentioned luxuries of school and music sucked up my time and before I knew it, I was going to India for better or for worse.

I don't mean to imply that I was bummed about coming to India because that is, most certainly, not the case. I was able to negotiate my thoughts and expectations with what I would be able to accomplish. My sister, Natalie, offered sage advice that I trusted, as she is seasoned in humanitarian work, first, in the Peace Corps and, now, running a group home for disabled Armenian orphans. She advised that while focusing on infrastructure would, very well, be a significant way to help, working with people on an individual level fills a niche that larger institutions are unable to address. I took solace in the fact that if I were able to make a difference in one person's life, it would be worth it for me. And on a much more shallow level I love to travel and I have always wanted to travel to India; it was the first country that I became aware of outside the US because, in toddlerhood, my parents were good friends with another couple, one of whom is from India, and they have children that are my age. We're still friends, still in contact, and I credit that relationship with the my early interest in India.

All of the forementioned points were going through my head as I packed my bags, got vaccinated, bought khaki pants and, eventually, made my way to Chennai via Hong Kong and Thailand. When I got here there wasn't any time to sit around and dwell on such things and I, very quickly, got in the groove with my teaching group - James, Kavya and our counterpart, Anbu, who has become a very good friend to all of us.

The vast majority of our teachings took place in secondary schools, what we call high school in America. We cover a combination of basic biology, the immune system, HIV biology, HIV progression, modes of transmission, prevention methods, and stigma, with the primary focus being on stigma, transmission, and prevention.

Over the last two months our entire team has taught somewhere in the vicinity of 4,000 people. With six teaching groups, that's an average of 666 (OMG!) students for each group. But success can't be measured with a number. Was the work sustainable? Did it make any difference? Is this really worth it?

These questions are complicated and I'll probably never know for sure. But I can tell you what I've seen... about 10% of the students could care less about what we're saying - fair enough. The vast majority, I would say 80% of them, enjoy the lesson and appear to be invested in the information. And the last 10% show a keen interest in what we have to present. They hang on every word, you can tell that they're processing the information, internalizing it. From our vantage point it seems safe to infer that the information will be sustained, to varying degrees, in their lives.

My group is really good at teaching, if I may toot my own horn. But being a good teacher only goes so far; a lot of the battle for the students attention is won by, simply, being American. Compared to Indian teachers, we are very animated and energetic - the students get a kick out of this and they relish the time when they are encouraged to be loud and interact. For that majority of students, the 80%, I have no idea if their interest in us will be enough to translate into true learning. I certainly hope so.

But in the end, I'll never know. AIDS education is extremely complicated in that the people that need it the most are people that probably won't listen, or won't be able to. Simply put, most of the kids that we teach probably aren't at risk of contracting HIV. Luckily, AIDS education isn't only about staying AIDS-free. A lot of it has to do with the stigmas that surround HIV, and India is chock-full of those. Unless a miracle-cure is found, HIV is here to stay and at the end of the day, even if the kids are not at risk for HIV, reducing stigma is an important component in the fight against HIV as the fight is not only about keeping people AIDS-free, it's about improving the lives of the unfortunates that do, and will, experience this disease.

But Emily Oster's argument still seems valid and it's still ringing in my ears. Maybe I'm too dense to make an accurate, big-picture assessment of the program, too clouded by personal feelings - after all, my experience has been nothing short of remarkable. So take my answers with a grain of salt, or a whole teaspoon...

Was it worth it? I think so... I hope so.

Here, There & Everywhere

2009-07-29T01:16:00.000-07:00

Part 1: Kerala (care-uh-luh)

I was really bummed out a couple weeks ago... we took a long weekend trip to Kerala in the far south of India. It wasn't the trip that bummed me out, it was the fact that I didn't have a camera in one of the most beautiful places that I've even seen! I bought new batteries, the camera still didn't work, so I inferred that it was broken. A couple weeks later I tried some different batteries and, lo and behold, my camera does work. (The moral of the story: don't buy cheap batteries overseas.) So, regrettably, I was only able to take three pictures at the beginning of the weekend but I hijacked a couple pictures from other people so you can still get the gist of this magical weekend.

To start it off we took an overnight train ride in true Darjeeling Limited fashion...

We arrived the next morning and hopped aboard two houseboats for our first night out. We floated around some gorgeous wetlands as we played cards, ate food, swam, drank and danced the night away.

After the boats, we bused to a resort that was the very definition of beachside luxury. For two days and nights we slept in little huts under a canopy of coconut trees. Cliffside hammocks overlooked the Indian Ocean and made me feel like a proverbial million bucks. It was ridiculous...

The resort offered a wide array of “treatments” for rich health freak hippies – esoteric fourteen day regiments that included obscure messaging techniques, medicated milk baths, therapeutic vomiting, perspiration, ear washes, eye washes and herbal douches/enimas. One of the brochures featured a picture of a woman getting some herbal hoo-haw rhythmically dropped on her forehead from a jug. The general consensus concluded that she looks frighteningly similar to yours truly...

Part 2: Transportation

We've gotten around Chennai using a bus/rickshaw combination. The buses are a joy 85% of the time - they're very affordable and there's an endless supply of interesting sights, sounds and smells. I've chatted with a lot of interesting people and sometimes the bus is so full that I get to hang on the outside! But like most things in life, the mishaps make for more interesting stories. My struggle with the buses lies in that my legs are too big to sit in the seats like a normal person - I have to sit with my legs in the aisle unless I am able to snag one of the few seats that has ample legroom. If I can't get a seat then I have to stand, which wouldn't be an issue if the buses were six inches higher, allowing me to stand up without slouching and cocking my neck to one side. Such is life, I suppose!

The most eventful bus happening took place a few days ago when some officials boarded to check for passes. Udai (one of the US volunteers) and Yogi (one of the Indian counterparts ) misplaced their tickets and the man that issued the tickets refused, for whatever reason, to vouch for them. Udai and Yogi were taken away by the police and, thankfully, were able to dissuade the cops with a 500 rupee bribe just as Udai was being shoved into the police car headed for jail. But to comically and painfully top it off, Ronak (another US volunteer, and my roommate) hopped out of the moving bus to accompany our potentially incarcerated teammates. Jumping out of buses is normal fare in India but Ronak, unfortunately, failed to comply with the laws of physics and instead of running with the motion of the bus, he tried to walk back towards our friends and and got his big toenail ripped off during his spill!

Autos, aka rickshaws, are faster to get around but they're a lot more expensive. White skin assures inflated rates that can be difficult to bargain, but our normal four-people-to-an-auto routine makes it doable. Along with high rates, white skin is a magnet for autos in general - I can rarely walk for 200 feet without an auto driver stopping to see if I need a ride! Autos are a lot of fun, though... weaving in and out of traffic, playing tag with the other team members, going against traffic on one-way streets and narrowly escaping death at every turn. And horns! Chennai drivers make damn good use of their horns! They're used, virtually, all the time and are used to convey a plethora of messages. I've inferred fifteen such meanings although there are undoubtedly more that I haven't picked up on:
-I'm going really fast right now.
-Move over.
-I'm moving over.
-You can move over.
-I want to pass you.
-I'm going to pass you.
-You can pass me.
-See that little opening? I'm taking it!
-Fuck you!
-I am driving.
-I am honking.
-Sorry.
-I'm not sorry.
-I am acknowledging your presence.
-Don't even think about it.

Part 3: Birthday Party at Peace Trust

Peace Trust is another of our partner NGOs, an orphanage for children who have lost their parents to AIDS. Our team made the trek out to Peace Trust with gifts and cake to celebrate the birthday of one of the residents. Good times were had by all and the kids had a great time running around and taking pictures with my camera!

Gimme Shelter

2009-07-13T02:52:00.001-07:00

First off, many apologies for the lack of updates. I'm blaming my full schedule coupled with unreliable internet.

My departure from India seems to be approaching at an alarming rate, only two weeks left! With this in mind, it seems that it's time to document the volunteer work that I've been doing. Up to this point I've refrained from doing so in an attempt to compile my thoughts and feelings into something that is definitive of all that I have experienced here... to boil the essence of it down into a couple blogs.

Shelter House is an orphanage for HIV infected orphans and is run by Solomon, a strong, gentle man with an easy smile and kind eyes. Before starting Shelter he simply wanted to spend time with sick children but he ran into impenetrable religious red tape. The partitions between Hindus, Christians and Muslims make interfaith care an impossibility - yet another example of the opiate for the masses turning to poison. Out of this desire, he started Shelter and with the staff has created an incredible home for some twenty children, nourishing hope where there was none. Solomon's passion for this work is obvious and he works another full-time job just to keep Shelter afloat...

The first thing that strikes you upon visiting this home is the sense of community that is shared by the residents. It's beautiful to see these children taking an active interest in each others wellbeing, helping each other is the smallest of ways, the bigger ones taking care of the smaller ones. Upon looking at their files I began to gain some insight as to why and how these children have been able to develop such a large capacity for cooperation. Their personal histories are, in a word, heartbreaking. Along with having HIV in a country with such stigma, many of these children have seen trauma and violence that is unimaginable. Tragically, I speculate that their interdependence has developed, at least partially, out of the brokenness that they have experienced. The irony of such beauty emerging out of the darkest of places is overwhelming, as is the complex array of emotions that comes with looking into the eyes of a child that has seen tragedy the likes of which I will, likely, never experience in my lifetime.

I've gone to Shelter almost every week since I've been here and is, perhaps, the highlight of my trip to India. The relationships that I've had the pleasure of building with these kids are most cherished. I speak very little Tamil and they speak as little English but the quality of our time is in no way diminished in that affection, love and fun are easily communicated without language.

A lot of things have happened with Shelter this summer. Just after we arrived they started having plumbing problems. Most of the houses in the area pay the government a bribe to pump waste water (excluding that from the toilets) in a “rain” canal. Their plumbing did not allow for this option so their water (again, excluding toilet water) was running off into neighboring vacant lots. As development began on the lots the pipes were stopped up, so the water sat and stagnated on the property. The kids went from being able to shower once or twice a day, which is of the utmost importance to an HIV+ individual, to only being able to shower every few days. The kids got rashes, mosquitoes were everywhere, the most basic tasks became challenges. See...

Naturally, this seemed like the most pressing problem that we could address this summer. We began looking into solutions for Shelter and after many meetings and phone calls we settled on building a “soap pit,” a concrete-lined cylinder dug into the ground; filled with charcoal, sand and rocks, it would filter the water before it seeping into the dirt. Not only was this cheaper than the normal route of dumping it into the canal, but it's much better for the environment too. Neha and Kavya's family helped us navigate the obstacle course of bureaucracy and the whole job got done surprisingly quickly!

In one respect, it was with grit teeth that we spent our money on the soap pit. This is because Shelter is renting their current property for, only, one more year. The landlord is less than noble and even though we didn't want to invest in what will, eventually, serve his benefit, the prospect of the kids living in such poor conditions for another year was completely unacceptable. The mixed feelings about the investment were overshadowed, however, when Solomon told us the big news. The same day that construction on the soap pit began Solomon finalized the purchase of a piece of land that Shelter owns! We were lucky to be the first visitors to the site of the future, permanent Shelter House where they won't have to deal with any hassles from landlords or anyone else...

Now begins the process of building up this site. There's a lot of work to be done and we're working on a way for people (ie. you!) to give donations for the new Shelter House, a donation that will be a sustained investment in the lives of these kids and the future residents of Shelter. When we get this up and running, I beg you to please consider giving a little something. Dollars go a long way in India; all of the work on the soap pit (digging, concrete, pipes, labor, etc) ran a little over 200 USD. Try finding a better way to spend a $200!

That's all for now.

Don't stop 'til you get enough

2009-07-03T02:57:00.000-07:00

Part One: Big Gay India

As many of you are aware, June marks the 40th anniversary of the 1969 NYC Stonewall Riots. Since then, June has been celebrated as Gay Pride month all over the world and India was no exception.

To be “out of the closet” in India guarantees a loss of reputation and also means risking one's job and family. This is especially tragic because India was not always this way; before Puritan values were imported under British rule, India was much more tolerant of sexual minorities. In an earlier post I mentioned that some members of a local gay rights group came and talked with our NGO, offering some insight as to the struggles that sexual minorities face in India. Their testimony made it painfully clear that gays in India have a long, long way to go before they even reach the still sub-par level of gay acceptance in America.

Chennai's Pride Parade was on Sunday, June 28 at Marina Beach (the second largest beach in the world, fyi). I read about the march in the local paper a day or two before and I wanted to come down to show my solidarity with India's LGBTQ community. Given the turbulent backdrop of such an event, I had no idea what to expect. I was pleased as punch when I found all of this...

There was a ton of press, a ton of onlookers, a few police, no incidents, and we marched, joyfully, for a couple of miles under the hot summer sun. The mood at the end was one of... well... pride! There were easily a few hundred people there including about two dozen white folks (more than I've seen since I've been here). Because being "out" in India carries such a huge risk, a number of participants had to wear masks. Reporters scrambled to interview the most interesting-looking people they could find and later that night, the television was plastered with images from India's numerous Pride rallies. Throughout the rally, spontaneous dancing was coupled with chants, mostly in the Tamil language. I chanted too, whenever I could phonetically pick up the phrases. Lucky for me, the most common chant was in English... “Hey hey! Ho ho! Three-seventy-seven has got to go!”

We were talking about Section 377 of the Indian Penal code. You might have heard about this in the news, Section 377 is the piece of legislation that criminalized homosexuality in India. (It's come to my attention that some Western news outlets reported that 377 was Hindu law, but this is not the case! It was drafted by the English in 1860 and it made it's way into the Indian constitution when they won independence in 1950.) Although no one has been convicted under the law in many years, it is used to harass, intimidate, threaten and arrest gays. At the same time, more subtle repercussions of such laws trickle down into culture and society, into the daily lives and perceptions of Indian citizens.

I feel the same way about 377 in India as I do about gay marriage in the US – neither one is the core issue. Stateside, the ban on gay marriage is the symptom of a larger, more complex problem, one that is rooted in the hearts and minds of a (decreasing) cross-section of Americans. The same is true for India's 377. Still, I strongly contend that such legal symptoms of intolerance need to be remedied. I am not suggesting that the relationship between laws and values is as simple as cause and effect, but citizens certainly give a substantial portion of moral authority to their government while laws often pertain to what “morality” looks like.

Sorry...I felt compelled to step on the soapbox for a minute there.

But wouldn't you know it? On June 2, four short days after Pride, Section 377 was declared unconstitutional by India's high court! Off the books! Gone! Yay for gay! This is a milestone victory for India's gay community and a giant step forward for the entire region. The LGBTQs that live here, the ones that have to struggle every day just to live their lives in accordance with what is in their hearts, they see how much more work needs to be done. I hope that this victory brings them strength and encouragement, and I hope that it lays the groundwork for a more tolerant, beautiful India. I feel proud, but mostly lucky, that I was able to be here and bear witness to this historic event.

For further, better reading about the abolition of 377, look here.

Part 2: Bombs bursting in air

I'm not the most patriotic person in the world but I'll be damned if I didn't long for a little bit of good ol' American tradition to commemorate the Fourth of July. Most of the team members were in a city called Bangalore for the weekend but a handful of us remained in Chennai. We picked up a small arsenal of fireworks and to the amusement of many-an-Indian we proceeded to light them off in the street. Injury-free, it was a damn fine Fourth of July!

Height & White (Random Ramblings)

2009-06-27T06:11:00.000-07:00

Hi. How are you?

My third week (out of eight) in India has come to a close and it was also the first week of proper volunteering. The week started out with a bang, teaching 9th and 10th graders at two different schools. Overall, the students seemed receptive to what we had to say and even enjoyed themselves. Sometimes we have to do a bit of crowd control but I've discovered that my low voice has the power to pipe kids down.

All over India, but especially in the schools, I attract an awful lot of attention because of my size. I thought that I stuck out a lot in the US but my stature has practically made me an instant celebrity with these kids. I found my fifteen minutes of fame and it exists at Indian primary schools!

Our teaching was canceled on Wednesday - one of the teachers at the school died the night before so the students stayed home. We took advantage of our free time and a couple of us went to Shelter House, the orphanage for HIV infected children (see this post for pictures). Starting about two weeks ago, they can no longer pump the waste water out of the house and the kids are already starting to get rashes on their bodies. They can no longer take showers every day and the standing water in the backyard is making breeding grounds for mosquitoes. Needless to say, it's imperative that this problem gets fixed immediately. We spent a few hours at Shelter identifying everything that needed to be done and we've set up a meeting on Monday with contractors and such. I'll keep you posted and I'll probably ask you for donations, too.

Thursday morning, at dawn, we headed out to a fishing village about 100 kilometers from Chennai for two days to speak to fishermen and some community groups, which was a little discouraging as there were few people that were interested in the information that we had to give. Still, there were the small handful of people that really valued what we had too say and that made it worthwhile to me. Falling asleep on a straw mat under the Indian sky, I was quite grateful.

Today, after a pleasant wake-up call from a friend back home, I got some much-needed alone time. Currently, I'm at a coffee/hookah bar and it looks like this:

That's all I have for now. Here's a slew of random pictures for you...

Sheema, hooking it up with mango...

Poobendhan chopping up some durian...

Ronak: coconut master...

Pray before you go to bed...

Straight up gangsta Tulika...

Fishing boats...

Tar...

Carrom...

Beast of burden...

I really like eating without utensils...

I jus' don't give a fuck...

Ooty, where have you been all my life?

2009-06-24T07:47:00.000-07:00

Last weekend my team charted a bus to haul us to Ooty, Tamil Nadu. After the ten hour overnight ride, we arrived to find a beautiful town situated among tea-covered mountains with a cool climate and quiet pace that offered a welcome change of pace from the horns and heat of Chennai. It looks something like this...

The late Mitch Hedgerg was wrong about something... dust bunnies are not the cutest infestation ever, monkeys are! In Ooty, you can't throw a stone without hitting a monkey and these cute little devils love to break into hotel rooms and steal shit. Luckily, our hotel was happy to warn us about them...

I don't believe in Heaven but if there was one, it would probably smell like the tea factory we visited. Along with divine aromas, I had the pleasure of drinking (and buying) what was, easily, the best tea that I've had in my life. If you come to my house I'll make you some...

We visited the botanical gardens...

We walked around, saw things, ate food...

We went on a hike...

And I wished you were there with me...

Cruel world

2009-06-21T01:06:00.000-07:00

A few days ago we visited one of our partner NGOs that operates in one of Chennai's slums. Located on the bank of a filthy river the slum is about a quarter of a square mile and packed with about 1,500 homes. I don't have any pictures of the slum itself because it would have been too disrespectful to take pictures of these people when I was, very obviously, a rich visitor.

Before we entered the slum we were greeted by a throng of slum kids. These interactions, like those with the children at the HIV orpanages, are both beautiful and heartbreaking and have left my heart heavy and overwhelmed. The complexity of the emotions that I have felt is not something that I can aptly describe, but it leaves me anxious to start working with both groups of kids (slums and orphanage) on my own time outside of the education work that my team is doing.

I could ramble on for a long time about my thoughts on these beautiful children and hand that life has dealt them but pictures will probably do a better job.

Good kids & bad grown-ups

2009-06-16T10:00:00.000-07:00

Things, things, stuff and things.

I had my first Indian movie experience... no, not Bollywood - Kollywood! While the two India-woods share a lot of common traits, Bollywood movies are in Hindi and based out of Mumbai while Kollywood is based here in Chennai and the movies are in Tamil. My volunteer team, along with our CPs, went to see Ayan. This is the poster:

This epic movie has it all: musical numbers, a love story for the ages, slo-mo fights, hairy fingers, dramatic close-ups, and it walked an awkward line of being super-sexy while simultaneously upholding cultural dedication and devotion to the almighty concept of virginity. Fantastic!

The crown jewel of India, thus far, was hanging out with some incredible kids while we visited our local NGO partners. The children, infected and/or affected by HIV (affected in that they have lost their parents to the disease), welcomed us into their homes, sang and danced before we horsed around for an hour or two...

And a couple shots from around town...

I had more pictures that I wanted to upload, but I apparently didn't put all of them on my flash drive before I came to the internet cafe. Oh well.

In other news, I turned a quarter-century old today. So I guess my car insurance premium goes down but more importantly, I now have a fully developed frontal lobe which is kind of depressing, knowing that my chances of mastering the art of balancing work and reward are slim to none. I feel like the passing of a milstone age warrants well-developed thoughts and reflections, but alone-time has been few and far between since arriving in India so my thoughts are scattered at best, and mostly negative. (Que self-indulgent examples of said scattered thoughts.) I've been "okay" for about three years, meaning that I've actually been able to operate in the real world in a way that resembles productivity and good mental health; I can't help but wonder what I would be like, today, if I had gotten my shit together when it seems like everyone else did. I've been at least four different people in my life, very few of my relationships withstanding the transformations; again, kind of sad. I'm discouraged that it will, now, be a lot harder to mold my brain into what I want it to be. I wish I had decided to go to college before I was 21. And I still don't feel like a *real* person.

I probably sound like I'm bummed out but I'm actually in a very good mood, if only because I'm in India doing something "real," whatever that means.

I need to get back to the hostel - a couple of us watched the first episode of a TV show called Dexter and it's quite morbid and lovely, so we're going to get back to that before going out to dinner and a club. Yeh-yah!

Be well out there, good people!

Indian Summer

2009-06-11T21:16:00.000-07:00

In Hindi, India is known as भारत गणराज्य but to my volunteer team, India is also known as Land of the Fleeting Internet. At our hostel, wifi comes and goes in accordance with its fickle will. My fellow volunteers and I have developed an acute sixth sense to detect when we are blessed with wireless internet, the presence of which spurs everyone to jump on their laptops within seconds. And, oh, how sweet it is! I'm hoping that by the time I'm done writing this entry, the wifi gods will still hold me in their good graces. (FYI, they didn't.)

I'm here with about twenty other volunteers with an NGO doing HIV/AIDS prevention work in and around the city of Chennai. Almost all of the volunteers are from Tucson, whom I had only met once before arriving in Chennai. As the bulk of my interactions back home are within a bubble of weirdo/twee/punk/bicycle/diy/political/queer/music/artsy/fartsy folks, I was wondering how I would do with living, and working, with so many “normal” people (whatever that means). Alas!, everyone on the team has been an absolute joy to spend time with - I couldn't ask for a better group of people with whom to spend this summer.

Approaching the end of our first week, our training/orientation is half over. Each teaching team consists of three or four US volunteers and two or three Indian CPs (counterparts). I won't bore you with details but in short, our days consist of Tamil lessons, crashcourses in culture and history, team-building activities, and practicing lesson plans with our Indian counterparts. As a volunteer, I will be splitting my time between the HIV/AIDS prevention work and a "special project" of my choosing, and I'm leaning towards working with a local gay rights NGO; two of their coordinators came and talked with us about their work, giving us insight as to just how hard life is for the people that have been pushed to the fringes of society. My favorite activity, by far, gave us a chance to sit down with our CPs and have an enlightening conversation about our cultural differences regarding sex, dating, alcohol, womens rights, etc.

Chennai, aka Madras, is home to some four and a half million people and is located in the south of India. Chennai, founded in the 1600s under British occupation, is far from the images of India that dominate the western psyche. Chennai is hot, humid and bustling with traffic, so western tourists don't normally venture to Chennai as it doesn't have the history, glamor or mystery of some of the other regions in India. After spending the past few weeks being a tourist in Hong Kong and Thailand, I'm happy to, finally, be getting a small taste of real life outside of America. Still, by any local standard, I'm living here in extreme luxury. I can't begin to know what life is like for the men and women that are forced to sleep on a filthy sidewalk, or the disabled man begging on the side of the road without any of the government support that he would receive if he were born in the same country that I was.

But I'll avoid getting into heavy topics on this post - those things will come, no doubt. In short, I'm really enjoying my time here – getting to know my team, going out to dinner, fearing for our lives every time we get on the motorized rickshaws, venturing to the wine shops, etc.

For now, here are a few pictures. More than likely, they won't be as good as the previous ones because I can no longer follow my every whim... I've got shit to do!

Can you see it? Bird - 0. Electricity - 1...

Ryan and I narrowly escaped a similar fate this went down right next to us...

James and Anjali...

Sanjay and Tulika...

Neha and Abhishek...

Sheema and Alwin, two members of the India staff...

My, Ronak & Anthony's well lived-in room...

That's all for now. Anthony turned me on to a cheap internet cafe just outside of our hostel, so my internet access will become more regular, meaning more blogs.

I hope you're doing well. Please feel free to call, Facebook, etc.

It was a night of broken glass

2009-06-07T04:03:00.000-07:00

Hello friends! I've arrived in India, safe and sound. But before I get into that, let's play Thailand picture catch-up.

As I was leaving Bangkok the first time, some scary looking clouds rolled into town and dumped a copious amount of rain on the city...

My experience of Chaing Mai in northern Thailand was punctuated by the story in my previous post and a day of outdoor adventure, as depicted here...

The affordability of in-country flights, being about $50 a pop, enticed me to pack as much into my Thailand visit as humanly possible so, after spending a mere day and two nights in Chaing Mai, I hopped a plane to the island of Kho Phangan in southern Thailand for a mere 24 hours. (Actually, I took a plane to Kho Samui, a neighboring island, and then took a boat to Kho Phangan.)

Kho Phangan is the spitting image of what you would think of when considering an island paradise cliché with mountains with thick, lush tropical forests overlooking picturesque beaches. The island is host to Full Moon Parties, which involve thousands of people partying the night away on the beach, fueled by buckets of booze and electronic music. I missed the Full Moon Party by a couple of days, but there were still booze buckets, beach dancing and a flaming jumprope, all of which I happily took part in. I didn't have time to explore the island like I wanted to, but here's the idea...

The tropical outdoor airport in Kho Samui is, hands down, the coolest airport that I've had the pleasure of using. And at the end of my whirlwind tour of Thailand I was very tired and very tan...

I took a red-eye flight out of Bangkok to Mumbai, on which I was bumped up to Business Class. I had a hard time at the Mumbai airport, a confirmation of Murphy's Law that was made exponentially worse by my lack of sleep. Luckily, I arrived at my gate in the nick of time to catch my plane to Chennai, where I'll be staying for the next two months.

Vwaola! It just happened... you might have missed it, but this blog just made a transition from Phase I, east Asia travel, to Phase II, volunteer work in India. (We will move into Phase III, Europe travel, in early August.) In case you're one of the people that has no idea why I'm over here, I'm volunteering with an organization doing HIV/AIDS prevention work. More on that in future posts.

On the evening of the first night we (my team) went to a club, starting with an exciting pre-game trip to the "wine shop" as they're called in India. It was tucked away in a shady little alley, the ordering window covered with metal bars to keep out the throngs of loud and eager men. I pushed my way to the front and got a little bottle of low-quality rum for 60 rupees, about $1.30. Just as we were leaving, a police truck pulled up and an officer pulled out his baton and started beating the shit out of people! People were running around in panic, glass breaking, the whole nine! Needless to say, we got out of there pretty fast!

Since I'm going be in Chennai for an extended period of time, I'll wait for a few days to post pictures and general impressions. Also, I have a phone! You (yes, YOU) can call me since Skype and international calling cards are dirt cheap. Our times are essentially opposite if you're in Arizona, twelve and a half hours apart, to be exact. Don't feel pressured to have something "important" to say... call me after you see a shitty movie, or when you see a purple Volkswagon, or when you're really drunk, especially when you're drunk! It would make me very happy to hear your beautiful voice for a mere three minutes. Country-code included, I'm at 91-978-987-6485.

I love you.

Oh, what a night (and day)

2009-06-03T04:25:00.000-07:00

The past 24 hours have been most eventful... Chaing Mai is a gem, and a drastic change of pace from the hustle and bustle of Bangkok. When I got up this morning, I perused the brochures that my guesthouse had to offer and 15 minutes later, I was picked up for quite an adventure!

We headed out of town for about an hour. The scenic drive took us through the countryside and set us up for a jam-packed day of activity. We visited a small village, trekked a few miles through the forest to swim under a waterfall, rode elephants, rafted down a river... um, I feel like I'm forgetting something... either way, I took pictures which I will upload in good time.

Now, for the real story that I can't tell with pictures. BUT... the following story will be, either, a humorous PG-13 or an X-rated abomination, depending on the orientation of your moral compass. I'm saying this because I know that a wide spectrum of friends and family are reading this blog and I don't want to offend anybody. This story doesn't involve anything that I did, but I will go into detail on things that some people might find slightly offensive or downright disgusting. You've been warned, so read at your own risk.

Here we go.

Last night, after checking in, I started walking around Chaing Mai. As I was crossing a street, a fellow on a motorbike said "hello" and we started talking. I'll refrain from using his real name and just call him Jimmy.

Anyhow, Chiang Mai is Jimmy's hometown and true to Thai form, he was very nice. He has three jobs; he's a tour guide, primarily, but he also runs beauty pageants and works for an organization that sends Thai students to Canada in a study-abroad program. He gave me the card for his tour guide company, so I felt confident that he wasn't a scammer. I told him that I had just arrived and he asked if he could show me the town on his motorbike. Sure! Sweet!

We rode to the historical town square and stopped by his tour guide stand so he could pick up some papers and such. We went to one of the markets and, over some food, I looked at picture albums from his beauty pageants for men, women and lady-boys, which were quite impressive, I must say! (FYI: Lady-boys, in America, would fall under the transsexual umbrella, but they aren't discriminated against in the same way. Most of the lady-boys that I've seen work for bars, bringing in tourists from the sidewalk.)

Jimmy and I talked about damn near every topic of conversation, both enjoying the exchange. He asked if we could stop by his apartment so he could change, so we did, and I looked at another photo album of his last birthday party, which was held in a very nice reception hall with 50+ guests, professional entertainment, etc. The dude is impressive, quite the socialite!

By this point, we had been hanging out for two hours or so. I wanted to get a drink before retiring for the evening and I asked him what the best places were. He told me about two of his favorite spots, real Thai bars, not touristy places. The first was a "student bar" and the second was a "strip show" bar which he described as a pretty wild place... lady-boys, men, women, etc.

I'm no fan of strip clubs. In fact, I positively detest them. I went to one when I was 18, found it terribly depressing, and I've never been back since. However... Thailand?! Lady-boys?! An illegal club?! (Such things are illegal in Thailand.) The way I figured it, tourists never get to see this stuff. I would be a damn fool to turn it down.

The entrance to the club was hidden away in an alley. The decor was very nice, very posh, and the drinks were very expensive by Thai standards. When we walked in, a lady-boy was lip-syncing to a cheesy, romantic pop song. This was the calm before the storm.

Moments later, a young Thai man with a penis implant is dancing, furiously, in assless chaps and a wig. This is all pretty amazing to me and, around this time, Jimmy starts getting very close to me and the conversation takes some interesting turns. He starts telling me about his group-sex escapades when he was a student in Holland. He tells me that he wants to make a porno and that I should be in it. I joke that doing so will ruin my political career. He says that I can wear a helmet, the camera will only see my ass. He says that, being an American, I must have a huuuge dick. He jokes that I can go down on him for 50 baht, and then lowers it to 49.

Maybe I'm just dense... maybe I can't read signals... but, until we got to the club, I hadn't realized that he was trying to make me his boy-toy for the evening. By now, I'm pretty uncomfortable because I have no intention of sleeping with this guy. Of course, I realize the irony of the situation as I'm also sitting next to him while two naked men with penis implants are writhing around on the stage covered in soap suds. (Yes, soap suds.)

He starts to get a little tipsy... he asks if I am feeling the booze. Sorry, dude. I'm 6'4" and I've lived through multiple Tempe summers... not even close.

How do I navigate this situation? I don't want to offend him or to cause either of us to lose face. (Losing face, getting angry, is a big no-no in Thailand, even in dire situations.) He has, after all, shown me all around town and I've had a lot of fun. I decide that the best plan of attack is to stress how tired I am, that I need to go home and get some sleep. I tell him that I'm going to go home when I'm done with my beer. We leave.

I was very much aware of how I had, inadvertently, teased this guy into thinking that he was going to get laid. I feel bad! I tell him that I can walk back to my guesthouse, that he doesn't have to give me a ride, but he insists. Poor chap... he tries so hard to get me to come back to his apartment to talk and drink whiskey until I get my second wind. I just have to keep stressing how tired I am, which is true.

Jimmy pushes his agenda all the way home, but I hold fast. He drops me off, I thank him profusely for showing me around, playing dumb to the fact that he's trying with every ounce of his being to sleep with me. He tells me to call him, we shake hands, I go inside and go to bed, amazed at how strange and amazing the night has been.

Wowie.

Bye, Bangkok. I hardly knew ya.

2009-06-01T23:04:00.001-07:00

Okay, I have an hour to kill and I'm too physiologically aroused from the card-losing debacle to do any more Bangkok exploring. I'll put this time to good use and throw some pictures your way.

Ready? Okay... in two sections... go!

(Note: This computer isn't too hot, so the picture formatting is messing up. Sorry!)

Section 1: Last moments in Hong Kong
The Hong Kong airport is located on Lantau Island, on which I made a quick detour before hopping on my flight. I took a cable car to Ngong Ping, way up in the mountains, to the Po Lin Monastery, which is host to the Tian Tan Buddha (aka "Big Buddha"). The monastary had a vegetarian restaurant, so I couldn't pass up their amazing veggie spread.

Section 2: Bangkok

Since I'm strapped for time, I'm just going to throw these at you... you'll get the idea.

This was the view from my room:

A Quicky

2009-06-01T21:49:00.000-07:00

First, the good news. In a couple hours, I'm hopping on a plane for Chaing Mai in northern Thailand for some countryside, elephant riding, rafting, biking, hiking, etc.

Bad news, I lost my fucking bank card. I'm so used to swiping it at ATMs that I, apparently, forgot to take it out after I withdrew some cash. That was two days ago and there are no bogus charges thus far, so I'm probably safe on that front. I'm pretty sure that I have enough travelers cheques to make it to India... Unfortunately, I can't call my bank because of the time difference and I don't know how I'm going to get a new card in India.

So THIS is why people have more than one card... problems, man. Problems.

"Jack talked Thai real well"

2009-05-31T18:39:00.000-07:00

Morning! Bangkok! And I am, most definitely, in love with this place. Allow me to explain...

My plane touched down in the early evening and I hopped a bus to Khao San in the Banglamphu district. Famished, I spotted a falafel stand just as I got off the bus; the patties were made, and fried, on the spot and they put Tempe's Phoenicia Cafe to shame (and that's no easy feat). What more could a fellow ask for?

I knew that I could, very easily, find a cheap place to stay but I was more than pleased to to find myself in an atmosphere of general friendliness, loud music, legions of backpackers, booze flowing like wine, prostitutes, food, and general debauchery. It's like a Thai French Quarter (the New Orleans district, not the band).

I hadn't had a conversation with anyone in four or five days, so I was very happy to make friends with another lone traveler, Denny from England, just as I was finishing my last bite of falafel. I checked into a guesthouse, dropped off my bags, got a drink, and proceeded to soak up the madness that is Khao San - people watching for the most part, as opposed to joining in. I also discovered that my room has a balcony overlooking the street! A rager, indeed!

Khao San is certainly catering to young, western travelers like myself, but it has a sense of charm that is unmatched by other tourist traps. (Ever heard a Thai bar band playing covers of "Johnny B Good," "Losing My Religion" and Santana's "Smooth"?)

When bedtime rolled around, I discovered why my guesthouse is so cheap (besides the lack of A/C and the janky shared bathrooms); it shares a wall with a club that proceeded to bump New Order remixes until late into the evening, which would have been a problem were it not for Denny's supply of extra earplugs.

I was able to get four hours of rest before I awoke, wide eyed and ready to go. After a nice, cold shower, I set out to see what I could find. The first thing I discovered was real Thai iced tea. Holy shit.

Banglamphu is a charming neighborhood; temples, monastaries and military forts are scattered amongst the newer buildings, a nice contrast from the jackhammered way that Hong Kong is laid out. But the greatest asset, so far as I've seen, are the people. Flashing a little smile gets a bigger one in return... in crossing a busy street, a man inferred that I was hesitating because of the reversed lanes, so he held my shoulder and let me know when it was safe to go. Another man stopped me in my tracks, all grins, impressed that I was wearing pants when all the bros are wearing culturally-inappropriate shorts. We talked for a few minutes about where I was from, where I was going, and he gave me a crash course on some basic Thai phrases, and gave me some suggestions of places to visit.

Now I'm at an internet cafe, typing away. I'm going to stay in Bangkok for a day or two, and then hop a plane to the rural (and non-touristy) areas of northern Thailand. Wirless internet isn't the norm here, so I might not have the time to upload pictures for a few days. I should mention that picture-taking by tourists isn't as appropriate as it is in Hong Kong, but I'll see what I can get.

L8er, sk8erzzz.

See for yourself!

2009-05-30T04:13:00.000-07:00

Hellz yeah! Picture upload successful!

Before we get to that, I have to tell you about the delicious drink that I'm enjoying... Just when I thought that the day couldn't get any better, a genius on the side of the road starts cracking open fresh coconuts, blending the milk with ice and tossing in fresh boba. Brilliant fatty goodness!

Ok, ok. Onto the pictures. Had I been able to upload them as they were taken, I would have presented them to you in chronological order, walking you through my days. However, since we're playing a game of catch-up, I'm just going to start shooting and let God sort 'em out.

First, this is Teta. She took me to the airport. She is very nice.

Section 1, Hong Kong views from the street...

Section 2, Man Ho! Apparently, Hong Kong has a lousy track record for the preservation of historical sites. One of the few that has been preserved is the Man Ho Temple, built in the 18th century, now surrounded by high rise apartments and commercial spaces. It serves to worship two gods, Man Cheung and Kwan Yu, the gods of literature and war, respectively.

Section 3, fine art! Since I'm doing Hong Kong on the cheap, the art that I've seen is on the street, not in museums...

Section 4, epic views. The first three are taken from atop Victoria Peak, the fourth is taken from the 43rd floor of the China Bank building, and the last is taken from Kowloon, across the bay.

Section 5, random shit.

Whew! I'm glad to be caught up. It's my last night in Hong Kong, not quite sure what to do. The nightlife here seems exciting but I feel like a total loser going into busy places alone. There are surprisingly few young tourists so my opportunities for fleeting friends are slim to none.

No worries, though! I'm off to Thailand tomorrow for five or six days before I arrive in India for two months. I'm not sure what kind of access I'll have to the internet while I'm in Thailand, so it might be a few days before my next blog. Thanks for reading.

xoxo

Look around

2009-05-29T03:25:00.001-07:00

Well, I took a lot of pictures today. I bought a new memory stick adapter card and was very excited to write this blog and upload the pictures to share with you. Yeah, you can probably guess where this is going. Lo and behold, it's not the right size, AGAIN! I'm going to try my luck with a USB cable, so we'll see how that goes.

I'm so sorry. I'm a bad person, and an even worse blogger.

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words... but instead of boring you with 15,000 words in lieu of the pictures that I would have posted, I'll just tell you, in brief, that I explored the city today. This place is big, tall, screaming, modern, and full of juxtapositions. Aspects of it are as western as beer pong and cargo shorts. Apparently, this is the trend in China's “special economic zones” where capitalism is allowed to run rampant. (Of course, I've never been here before, so what the hell do I know?) The influence from 150 years of English rule is, still, very apparent... there's King's Road, Queen's Road, St John's Cathedral, and a tea museum located in an old colonial building. When it's safe to use the crosswalks, the Casio mandolin sound blares from tiny speakers.

I slept hard for almost ten hours last night, during which I had no less than two really intense dreams. One of the dreams found me at a friend's house in Tempe with tons of Tempeople. (It was James Fella's house, for those of you that know him.) The dream became lucid and I was running around like a moron, telling everyone that I wasn't really in Tempe, but that I was asleep and dreaming in Hong Kong.

Now I'm just rambling, talking about stupid dreams. Riveting, I'm sure.

I promise that this will get a lot more interesting when I can upload a damn picture or two.

As for now, I'm going to check out the nightlife as I am, apparently, staying in a trendy part of town.

Love you.

Time-travel

2009-05-28T08:33:00.001-07:00

Touchdown in Hong Kong after a very, very long "day." Why put "day" in quotation marks, you ask? Because, at this point, several compounding factors have terribly skewed my concept of what a "day" actually is. I have a habit of staying up all night on the eve of a long trip, so I got one hour of sleep before Teta took me to the airport on Wednesday morning. I connected in San Francisco, my 13.5 hour flight left the Bay at 1:30PM and arrived in Hong Kong at 6:30PM the next calendar day. (That would be today, for me... tomorrow, for you.)

Such a source of bewilderment, that darned International Date Line. A whole calendar day, gone! Poof! Forever! Never to be had again! I feel robbed. I demand a credit-day to redeem at a time of my choosing.

The poor girl sitting next to me on the flight, germ face-mask and all... every time I coughed she would recoil in horror in an attempt to avoid contracting any diseases that I might be carrying.

Sorry. I digress.

So, I get into Hong Kong without a plan of attack... you know, no reservations or anything. I hopped on a bus to get into the city and realized that maybe, just maybe, it would have been advantageous to make plans for sleeping accommodations. I exited the bus at a random stop after seeing the name of a hostel that I recognized from my Lonely Planet guide book only to discover that this particular establishment was not a hostel at all, but a horse-betting business. At that point, I'm left to wander a random area of Hong Kong with no earthly idea where I am or where I should go. After wandering around in the rain for three quarters of an hour (yes, it was raining), I happened upon a train station. Phew!

I got my act together, looked through my guide book, found an area of town with a few cheap guesthouses, jumped on the train, found one of the said guesthouses, checked in, and that brings us to the present.

Oh, yeah. I snapped a couple of pictures with my camera, but I bungled that one, too. Instead of taking the USB cable to transfer pictures to my computer, I took the memory-stick-adapter-thingee (hooray for saving space!) only to realize that it doesn't fit my new computer. So until I buy the correct apparatus, I'm limited to my webcam. So, here are two pictures depicting my little room and the Hong Kong hundred-dollar-bill, which is quite epic when compared to the mundane pictures of dead white dudes on US dollars. Why settle for a lowly human when you can have a fierce-ass lion?