Tramps Abroad...

2010-01-03T11:37:00.045+08:00

Playing cards in the dirt (Part I): "Same hand, different suit"

Throughout Cambodia, in the gutters off the tarmac, under a spattering of dust on country roads, from the sandy shores to the banks of the river-ways consistently and inexplicably lie the remnants of playing cards.

After a while, you expect to see one. In the resort host of Sihanoukville, the backwater river station of Andoung Teuk, the silty capital of Phnom Penh, and the sleepy jungle village of Chi Phat, a creased ace of diamonds or a maimed seven of spades pops into view the moment you stop looking for one.

Are they for the spokes of children's bicycles? A makeshift replacement part for the ubiquitous tuk tuks? Or just a sign of the prior night's street-gambling shenanigans? I never asked. Whatever their plight and purpose, these cards resurfaced eerily throughout our recent travels to Cambodia.


Nine of spades in Siem Reap	Six of spades in Andoung Tuek

The trip brought with it the usual thrills of the expected (temples, jungles, beaches, and rice patties) and unexpected (village home-stays, obscure acquaintances, near capsizings, and lavish village feasts). But what amplified the experiences and the character of the Cambodians we shared them with was a macabre historical backdrop. Not until we understood the suffering the country had overcome were we able to appreciate its people's graciousness.

Therefore I must attempt to first tell the story of Cambodia in the last half of the 20th century in order to tell any story at all. Because Cambodia induced so many reflections, here just the first entry in the series Playing cards in the dirt.

The dealers

In April of 1975, the Khmer Rouge entered Phnom Penh, and Cambodia entered the darkest days of its 1500-year history. Advancing with their Chinese rifles and rocket launchers, in their simple black attire, Ho Chi Minh rubber-tire sandals, and traditional, checkered krama scarves, the mostly young and impassive "liberators" were deceptively peaceful in the takeover of Cambodia's capital.

The Khmer Rouge had been fighting against the government of Lon Nol, who had incompetently run the country since the ousting of Norodom Sihanouk, the man credited with effecting Cambodia's independence from the French. Sihanouk too, more politically savvy than those who dislodged him, had nevertheless been prone to nepotism and backscratching.


Norodom Sihanouk	Lon Nol	Pol Pot

Although apprehensive about the little-known group of rebels who were now wresting control of their country, many Cambodians harbored great hopes for a regime that would finally lead their nation to the benefit of all citizens. Many were simply elated at the end of conflict and violence. But neither fair leadership nor even peace followed.

Same hand, different suit

The Khmer Rouge gave the citizens of Phnom Penh little time to speculate about their intentions. Two days after the fall of the capital, soldiers ushered the city's inhabitants out of their homes and into the countryside - to begin on a radical process of "purification," to rid them of imperialist influence and their bourgeois attitudes.

As the shocked citizens packed what they could of their possessions, the Khmer Rouge had already begun to surreptitiously execute civil and spiritual leaders, bludgeoning rather than shooting to save precious bullets. The exodus went on for days; those who fell dead along the road - the ill and the elderly - were a premonition of the horrors to come.

Most of the "New People," as they were called, those of higher education and accustom to city life, were placed in cooperatives, where they learned the chores of "the Ancients," those who still tilled the land for rice and fruits. Angkar, the faceless government established by the Khmer Rouge tasked the "New People" with clearing land, ploughing fields, and collecting dung - granting them only meagre rations of rice slop as sustenance. Many died of diseases tied to malnutrition, as food was scarce and modern medicine de facto abolished by the new regime. All of this in the name of purification toward a radical communist ideology. The consequences were akin to those of Stalin's Holodomor and Mao's great leap forward.

"Angkar will take care of you" was the repeated mantra. In soft polite tones, the Khmer Rouge guards would reassure the sufferers. However, dissenters mysteriously disappeared, some found later, skulls crushed and in shallow graves, by their fellow laborers.


Khmer Rouge soldiers	The victims: nearly two million Cambodians died from 1975 - 1979

It was an experiment, employed in accordance with a rigid ideology and enforced with draconian measures. Once again, the Cambodian people were being dealt out in a new game. But never before had the game been so cruel and destructive. Arguably, however, with their wanton killings and fear of revenge and rebellion, the Khmer Rouge cadres and their leader Pol Pot, betrayed the fact they knew early on their regime was fated to fail.

Overcoming a legacy of hate

It is estimated that as many as 1.5 million Cambodians, nearly a quarter of the population, perished at the hands of the Khmer Rouge. From 1975 - 1979, the country functioned as its own people's concentration camp. Not until the Vietnamese deposed the Khmer Rouge did Cambodians' lives start to improve. The government set up by the Vietnamese, although loyal to that country, brought relief not necessarily by providing food, but simply by allowing the afflicted population to eat. Eventually, in 1992, free elections were held, overseen by the U.N., and a shaky peace returned to Cambodia.

Today, peace endures - but corruption continues, immobilizing many who would advance along with their country. One of the many visible examples: Those driving the expensive cars don't bother to attach license plates. It is a subtle way of saying to law enforcement officials, "My father is someone important in the government; pull me over and lose your job."

Yet despite recent atrocities and a resultant cultural psychosis, and despite the prevalent corruption in the country even today, these beautiful, impoverished, smiling people are trudging forward, brushing off their rough lot and exploring a notion they hadn't dared to just years before: hope.


"Our friend Lim": upcoming post	"Hope is for those who are not yet born": upcoming post

It is against this socio-historical setting that I would like to introduce the upcoming posts, the first of which is entitled: "Our friend Lim". Lim lost his father to the Khmer Rouge, and you can see the dark history of the country in his face. Although a child of heinous crimes, he is a father of hope for his country, with the determination to improve the lives of his fellow Cambodians and the scruples to better the standing of his nation. We were blessed to have made his acquaintance, and then to become his friends, through a most serendipitous encounter...

2009-11-28T10:29:00.040+08:00

A Take on Thailand and Tourism

A sightly beach and turquoise waters nearly line the main landing strip at Phuket airport, setting the tone right for the scores of sun worshipers as they touch down.But first-time-Thailanders will quickly find that there is a lot more to the country than water and sand.

Granted, Thais are out to make a buck and swarm Westerners, hawking "Taxi!", "Massage!", Cigarettes!", and a few other choice goods and services. But break out past Phuket and its prodigal Patong Beach, and you begin to get a better sense of what this country and its people are about. In our view this is a must-see country. But be advised: when it is high season, go to where it is low.

The American

Jump to Tang Sala, on the Thai island of Ko Pa-Ngan. Tang Sala is the main port town of Thailand's second largest island in the Gulf. Together with Ko Tao and Ko Samui, Pa-Ngan balances Thailand's island offerings on the West side of the peninsula, such as Ko Phi Phi and Ko Lanta in the Andaman Sea.

It's 10:00 at night, and Kate and I stand at the docks talking with a Danish couple, waiting to board an overnight ferry to Surat Thani, on the eastern shore of the mainland. The boyfriend is a paramedic; the girlfriend a nurse - both are taking a break from the dreary winter of Northern Europe for an island hopping tour. Our idle chatter is interrupted by an American man in his late 50s holding a half empty one-liter bottle of Thailand's premier local brew: Singha.

Highjacking the conversation, he tells us how the boat he lived on in Florida was swept away in a hurricane and that he will head back to the States when his insurance claim comes through (he's been waiting five years) or when his social security starts coming through (will have to wait another five years), whichever comes first.

The American has been retracing the steps of his adolescent travels. His father had worked for the CIA through the 50s and 60s, likely intwined in the goings-on in run up to the Vietnam War. Thailand was the primary base of operations for the U.S. army during that era.

He barely recognizes the people anymore, he says. "They're out for the money these days - no smiles without dollars." And the landscapes have changed drastically - from deserted beaches to lines of bungalows and resorts, which have supplanted Pha-Ngan's wreath of mangroves. He is looking forward to returning to Florida.

We boarded the ferry and chatted for a while longer about things of less consequence. Turning in, he left to brush his teeth and then lay down on a disgusting mattress next to a snoring monk.

I retreated to the stern, into the roaring of the diesel engines, to crack open a Singha of my own and watch the wake chase the dimming port town. I thought about the American's disappointment, and how it was in such stark contrast with the incredible time I had just had on Ko Pha-Ngan.

Dodging the Full Moon Party

Ko Pha-Ngan is roughly the shape of a "Q". The "O" of the "Q" is is dotted with fishing villages, rocky and sandy beaches, the ubiquitous bungalows, and, admittedly, a number of eyesore resorts. The interior is carved up by meandering roads, dominated by mopeds and tuktuks, a covered pickup with seats along its bed for 10 or so passengers.

The jungle bubbles up in the center of the island, pushing the roads up in steep in- and declines. The island has its own special brigade of ambulances that comb the network for injured tourist moped drivers who haven't quite mastered the technique of peaking hills with 15 horsepower (imagine driving up Lumbard Street in a John Deer). They ascend sure enough, but halfway up the hill, they realize their acceleration won't get them to the top. You can't go down backwards (too steep), and you can't go up (also too steep), so they plop on their side, pinned down by their vehicle until help arrives.

Spring- and rain-fed streams also cut through this mountainous jungle in steps of water falls and turgid pools until they make their way into the Gulf of Thailand. Clambering to worn ropes and vines, Kate mustered the courage to climb the slippery stones of one such waterfall and jump off a boulder into a pool, not knowing for sure where the submerged rocks below might lie.

And so the island continues, peppered with Buddhist temples and lookouts with magnificent vistas, the smell of burning leaves and bark mixed with the scent of lime, curry, and seafood as you pass through the towns. A fine way to take it all in is to stand on the tailgate of a tuktuk as the driver darts to the destination - part safari; part roller-coaster.

Roads don't get you everywhere on this island. To reach the isolated coves and beaches, visitors need the utterly endearing long-tail, a shallow-hull boat equipped with a noisy motor and a propeller at the end of a long shaft. This construction allows drivers to quickly pull the prop out of the water to avoid rocks and coral. A heavy beam in the front acts as a counter balance to the long engine apparatus, and is arguably the most appealing part of the vessel, adorned in ribbons in veneration of the Buddhist gods - that they may protect the boat, its captain and cargo.

Moored above the reefs, the long-tail is the ideal platform for snorkeling. Just roll off the side and you're in the thick of Thailand's ocean life: pufferfish, fan, shelf, and branch corals, crabs, pairs of angelfish and schools of sardines.

Moving from the "O" to the stem of the "Q": This little peninsula, known as Hat Rin, sends out mixed signals. Sunset beach, on the east, offers the quietude found on most of the island. Sunrise beach, on the west, on the other hand, is a venue for mass debauchery and shenanigans, mostly during its renowned Full Moon Parties. The bohemian town separating the two beaches becomes inundated with revelrous party goers from all over the world, who kick it on the beach with infusions of alcohol and other choice substances.

The popularity of these parties has grown so much over the years that Hat Rin now holds parties for each of the moon cycles. Although not adverse to a fine selection of drinks, Kate and I simply didn't have a sufficient number of tattoos and piercings to partake. All for the better, I suppose, considering the full-mooners didn't get going until around midnight, peaking with the sunrise. Sunrise was when Kate and I usually sprang out of bed, bent on the next jungle tour, snorkeling trip, or elephant ride.

Irresistible tourism

And this is where I began to empathize with that middle-aged American. While growing up there in the 50s and 60s, in spite of linguistic, religious, and cultural barriers, this man got on with the Thais. Sharing time and experiences with one another, feeding one another's curiosity and learning - simple human fellowship. Now when Westerners step off the boats, many Thais just see dollar signs (or bhat signs) with legs.

On our way out to Sail Rock for a day of diving, our dive master, a retired British officer quite familiar with the island, filled us in a little on this point. "When someone comes up with a good idea for business here on Ko Pa-Ngan, Thais from all over the country move over here, copy the idea and offer it up at a lower price," he says. I guess that's capitalism, but when I later told the American about this, he chuckled, and noted, "It wasn't always that way."

Whether for the partying or for the attractions, many people come to Ko Pa-Ngan - and to all of Thailand for that matter - with beaches on the brain. I admit, I did too. I wanted to snorkel, dive, and chill, and perhaps do a few tours. But can I honestly say the people of Thailand were an incentive? Unfortunately not. Fortunately, spending two days with our tour guide Jay, a young mother native to Ko Pa-Ngan slapped my brain out of selfish mode, at least for a while.

Jay runs tours to support her young son. He stays with his grandmother during the day, while Jay works from 6 a.m. - 10 p.m., guiding mostly Brits and Germans across the island via tuktuk, longtail, and elephant. Her earnings go toward his schooling, which is not even subsidized by the Thai government. She had darker skin than most Thais, which made her huge smile that much brighter. And she did love to smile - and laugh - and make everyone around her laugh.

Jay collected us along with a group of English gals from our bungalow resort, near sunset beach (the lax beach on Hat Rin). This was our introduction to the island's inland sights. The next day she escorted us on a long-tail to several bays and beaches. Her boss, Gon, a portly, feisty man with inexhaustible enthusiasm, joined us on one day as well, spurning us on up the cliffs. Tour operator by day and bartender by night, Gon had a devious habit of poking your belly or grabbing your foot and massaging it when you didn't pay attention to him - then asking for 200 baht for the privilege. When the conversation got stale, he broke out in Thai song...and didn't stop for a good 10 minutes.

Ultimately, the chats with Jay (and serenades by Gon) between destinations - about the direction of the country, their interpretations of the tenets of Buddhism, the trials and tribulations of making ends meet, and the best places to find good food and cheap beer - were just as memorable as the activities. And, no, they weren't just fishing for bigger tips.

So it's a two way street, I guess: If you not only make the effort but go out of your way to learn from and understand the background and motivations of Thais scratching by, they may go out of theirs to see you as something different than a dollar bill.

Unavoidable tourism

A meteor shower scraped the night sky half-way to Surat Thani. A few hippies had set their alarms on the sleeper boat to make sure they didn't miss the show. A girl in her early 20s reluctantly got off her pre-soiled mat and leaned out a window for a look.

The hippies were heading home or to the beaches on the other side of the peninsula - probably after some yoga retreat or jewelry-making course. We, too, were on our way to the islands in the Andaman, in total a 26 hour trip with boat and bus from Tang Sala to Ko Phi Phi Don. It was here where we encountered a Thailand overrun by the tourism trade.

Don's beaches were sublime; its waters everything the brochures say they are. Its close neighbor, Ko Phi Phi Leh, was the choice backdrop to the film version of "The Beach," starring Robert Carlisle, Tilda Swinton, and of course slender stud Leo DiCaprio. Indeed, at the bus station in Surat Thani, while we waited for the line to take us to Krabi, where we would catch the ferry, a curt Thai lady ritually dropped in the DVD to get travelers in the mood. But what "The Beach" and the brochures fail to show is the throngs of boats in those pristine coves and the loud crowds of tourists that shroud the stretches of sand.

When we pulled into Maya Bay on Leh with our tour group for a bit of beach combing and snorkeling, we entered the maritime equivalent of a tailgate party (but without the beer). Boats moored a few meters apart and swimmers in every gap between them. On land, plump and pasty Europeans let their skin sizzle on the beaches.

The kicker was hands-down the large cruiser that came in from Singapore. The large vessel moored furthest out from the beach, and dropped its human cargo into the water around it. Each Singaporean wore the standard mask and fins, but also a bulky yellow foam life vest. It was a hilarious sight, as they bobbed their faces into the water for a look and were then pulled back by excessive buoyancy - for nought as it were, as at the depth their boat had moored, they were at least 20 meters above anything visible. I felt I was watching a parody of another DiCaprio movie - Titanic - as the masses of Asians flailed about around the boat reaching for each other in desperation.

The day trips on Don were nonetheless fun, and we saw an array of sea life. But after two days of experiencing these islands processing their tourists almost in assembly-line fashion, it was time to head home. There were no Gons or Jays to be found here - only dollar bills with legs.

2009-10-18T12:04:00.015+08:00

The Real Asia: Ho Chi Minh City

You don't have to travel very far from its airport to reach the thick of Ho Chi Minh City. The city announces itself with irritating hums and honks from swaths of mopeds clogging its arteries. Somehow traffic flows, but I saw at least three collisions between bikers during my 20 minute drive from the terminal to my hotel. One was at slower speed, and it was humorous watching the two men stand up, brush themselves off, nod in mutual apology and drive off as if it were part of some expected ritual.

Formerly known as Saigon before the North Vietnamese defeated their capitalist brothers to the south, HCMC is still the hub for innovation in the country, and it - not Hanoi - is the steward of the recent free-market resurgence in the country. Make no mistake, it is still a socialist republic with a single, heavy handed ruling party. But unlike its much bigger communist neighbor, China, only 2.3% of Vietnamese citizens are actually card-carrying members of their nation's communist party.

Nevertheless, communism and its history in and influence on the country is difficult to miss - most notably at the War Remnants Museum. Situated smack dab in the middle of the city, this quirky homage to the Vietnam war displays abandon tanks and other contra either left by the U.S. and French or brought into the city by the Viet Cong when it took the city in 1975. The placards under the specimens cater shamelessly to the party's take on the times: "This M24 tank was commandeered by the liberating forces...," a subtle snub at the museum's 95% U.S. patronage. The museum houses other, darker exhibits as well.

At the Reunification Palace, two Russian-built tanks - of the same model that broke down the building's gates to secure the Norh's victory - stand proudly in the courtyard with a fresh coat of army green. The palace was built in 1966 for South Vietnam's president. It has been left as it was taken in 1975 and opened up as a museum. Historical significance is the only thing making this structure worth visiting, and perhaps the shell of an F4 Phantom in the back lawn.

An odd thing about HCMC is that everyone wants to take you for a ride - literally. Walking for several hours through the city, I was courted continually by moped drivers offering to show me around the entire city for 30,000 dong. I had to laugh at the image of myself, 6' 4" clinging to a 5' 2" Vietnamese man on the back of a rickety Vespe. I politely declined each offer.

Really, the best way to get around HCMC is by foot. You would miss too much with motorized transportation. And the thrill of crossing a HCMC street, dodging cars, busses, and bikes alike, doubles as an extreme sport (Maintaining eye contact with the person's bike you are going to step in front of is key).

The only issue with walking is dealing with the street hawkers. For example, a young girl approached me as I was sitting at a corner, getting off my feet and admiring the Notre Dame cathedral. She was hellbent on selling me flowers, employing the rule of the five whys to counter my refusal. "You want to buy a flower," she said in perfect English. "No thank you," I said. "Why?" she replied. "Because I don't have any money," I lied. "Why?" "Because I don't have a job." Why? "Because I'm not so bright," "Why?" I gave in: "How much?" I paid 5000 dong for a wilted carnation (which she probably picked from a nearby park). I realized my mistake when several more children emerged from their hiding places to sell me postcards, kleenexes, coconuts, Vietnamese flags, and other trinkets and mementos. The savvy flower salesgirl strode away grinning.

2009-08-22T10:58:00.009+08:00

Masters of buoyancy

It's the ball to the boot of peninsular Malaysia - the country's Sicily if you will. The island of Tioman is a 90-minute ferry ride from the costal town of Mersing. Kate and I packed our courage to brave the deep and investigate the wrecks and wildlife of the island's extensive coral mantel.

With an longstanding fear of having her head underwater, Kate was a champ. After mastering equalization problems in her ears (known as a "squeeze", she descended swimmingly to 30 meters (100 feet). There we were greeted by sunken fishing vessels, rays, sea slugs, hawksbill turtles, brain coral, and fishes of overwhelming variety.

But it was not all underwater sightseeing. We were there on a mission to secure our advanced diver certification. And that is what we did. Two days of theory and three days of dive after dive, we made it - thanks to a great guide and a little Actifed.

Here are a few shots of the course, the tribulations, and the rewards:

2009-08-01T16:49:00.000+08:00

Having fun with Shibuya square (渋谷区)

Not much of a post. Just having some fun. This is Shibuya square, shot from the upper-level of a Starbucks in Tokyo. The rain was coming down, and it was fun to catch the commuters with their umbrellas popped and scrambling to their offices.

2009-08-01T12:44:00.000+08:00

The real Asia: Tsukiji central fish market (築地市場)

Japan's stoic fishermen trade billions worth of fish a year at the Tsukiji central fish market. This covered labyrinth boasts tuna, octopus, salmon, sea urchin, crab, prawn, oyster, abalone, flounder, sea bass, and any other fruit of the sea imaginable (and many that are not). Styrofoam cases filled with fish and ice line the corridors, chilling the lanes through which traders lug their laden barrows and recklessly steer their gas-powered carts.

The smell is conspicuously un-fishy. It is all fresh, brought on shore no more than an hour ago. It is 5:00 a.m., and we hitch a ride on a barrel-engine go-cart, holding on tightly as the driver swerves between piles of the day's catch. Our destination is the main attraction: the wholesale tuna trade.

The viewing section in the hall is packed with tourists, some of whom are making their last stop of a long, no-doubt alcohol-charged night. A uniformed man frantically pleas with the masses to shut off their flashes, lest the bidders' view of rows of tuna be hampered during the intense auctioning. The bells sound, and the bidders' shouts echo through the frosty arena and the flashes intensify.

We squeeze out of the crowd and into a slight drizzle. We seek shelter for our cameras among the fishy catacombs, where traders are already processing their purchase. A stout man in a T-shirt and hachimaki smokes a cigarette with the corner of his mouth while his hands are busy pushing a tuna torso through a band saw. Another trader performs surgery on a smaller specimen, removing fin and bone, while a woman, presumably his wife, counts yen bills in a small wooden booth next to him.

Strangely, the maze leads us seemingly intentionally to an aisle full of sushi shops. We sit down to a cup of tea and delve into a bowl of miso soup and several slivers of sashimi on sesame rice. It is 7:30 a.m.

2009-07-18T21:08:00.000+08:00

Launchn' at Clarke Quay
Along the Singapore river at Clarke Quay you will find an amusement park niche, a small plot of land with two rides. The first one is an upside-down bungee, which Kate and I braved during her folks' visit. The second one is a subject of another story.

2009-07-11T19:21:00.001+08:00

The real Asia: Noida, India

Those who have travelled to its neighbors often mock Singapore with the name "Asia Light." Having recently traveled to Delhi, Beijing, and Shanghai - within a week's time - I now understand why. And I now often scratch my head at those backpackers you sometimes see here, as if they were roughing it. There is no "roughing it" in Singapore.

To be fair, Singapore should pride itself on its efficiency and cleanliness - it often makes Germany feel like a Haitian squatter colony - but it is this immaculateness that makes the city so "un-Asian." As I am slowly learning, there is a real Asia still to be discovered. My first true encounter with Asia was Delhi.

India's capital

While peering out the window before landing in Delhi, I saw an expanse of varying shades of brown, a vision of what the dust bowl must have been decades ago in America's breadbasket. I stepped out of the cool Air India Boeing and into to a kiln. At this time of year, temperatures in Delhi range between the searing 44°C (111°F) in the day and a "balmy" 38°C (100°F) in the evening. Passengers then squeezed into a bus that took us to immigration. Because hygiene didn't seem to be a high priority among the guests, I'll just say that the short ride was an olfactory adventure.

Greeting us at the gate stood brown men in brown uniforms, brown berets, surgical masks, and with AK-47s. The Indian government wasn't messing around when it came to swine flu. As I stepped off, hoping for a bit of relief, they herded us into a group more cramped than on the bus. They examined us from a short but safe distance, looking out for any telltale sniffles and coughs, hoping to weed out those who had not come forward to the appeals the stewardesses had made in flight: "If you are not feeling well, or have flu like symptoms, please notify one of our cabin crew immediately."

Cleared of any illness, the travelers were allowed to pass and exploded into a an arena of health-check stations. Once cleared there, it was on to immigration, where disgruntled bureaucrats stamped visas without acknowledging the humans to whom they belonged. Passport marked, baggage collected (under suspicious looks from the security guard), I walked briskly past customs and into the chaos that is Indira Gandhi airport.

Saving me from the torrents of saris and kurtas was a small man, named Dabby, I think. Dabby wore the whitest suite I had ever seen. He donned newly bleached trousers, shirt, jacket, gloves, socks, and even white shoes. Looking excitedly into the eyes of each white person who approached (and saddened as they walked past), he held a printed sign with the text "MR. PERRY." "Close enough," I thought, and introduced myself. His perfectly white attire did not flatter his smile, which he cut upon shaking my hand.

Dabby drove me 30 minutes to a Radisson in the Delhi suburb of Noida. A Chinese manager met me at the doorway and took me up to my room, insisting that I leave my baggage below. With my MacBook and XH-A1 in the bags, that made me a little nervous. But no sooner had I entered the room, a bellhop slipped each bag through the door. I threw open the heavy curtains to see a group of youngsters in an intense game of cricket, as the sun set into the smoggy, dusty horizon.

On business

The whole purpose of this visit was to meet with one of our customers, a particularly special one. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to go into detail just yet, but an article on their business will be published soon. If you end up reading the piece, you'll see that the route from the hotel to the customer was nearly as interesting as the discussion with the CEO.

For the whole day, I had a very gracious colleague (see below) looking out for me, showing me the good Indian cuisine, driving me to the customer, giving me a tour of the office, and bringing me back to the hotel. He had more important work to do, I am sure, as he is responsible for several accounts in the area. Yet he treated me as if I were a customer. I was impressed not only with his hospitality, but also with his ability to dodge stray cattle on the highway and outmaneuver traffic cops attempting to pull him over for talking on his blackberry while driving. Thanks for the experience, Tarun!

Because this journey was for work, I had limited time to see anything beyond the route airport-hotel-customer. No Red Fort, no Jama Masjid, no trinket shopping. But after a short walk through the draught stricken suburb of Noida, chatting with security guards, watching another pick-up cricket match, fending off a small beggar child who clung to my leg until I coughed up 10 rupees, I did feel like I had properly been to India. Albeit not long enough.

2009-05-25T18:58:00.000+08:00

The race to Lamanai

The New River is a twisty, meandering tributary that cuts through much of Belize. Along its shores nest hundreds of species of birds and an odd croc (yes, croc, not gator). The New is also the most direct route to one of Belize's most renowned historical sites: Lamanai.

Lamanai was established around 300 B.C. and was occupied all the way up to the 17th century by Mayan peoples. Lamanai itself means "submerged crocodile," which seemed logical, as the ruined state gives it a much lower profile than it must have had in past centuries.

I've slapped a few clips together from our excursion. If you look closely, you may see the group of Mennonites on tour.

2009-05-24T22:48:00.000+08:00

The crossing

Twenty or so miles north of Orange Walk lie the ruins of Cerros, an ancient Mayan outpost overlooking the natural harbor near modern-day Corozal, Belize. The only way to get there is with a 4x4 with plenty of ground clearance. As soon as you get off the beaten bath, you get on the battered path, resembling Verdun at around 1917. It's slow going unless you want to blow a tire, and that would be quite a pickle given the seclusion.

About three miles in (that's about twenty minutes), we came to what looked like an insurmountable barrier: the New River. All we could see on the other side was an illegible sign and what looked like a wrecked barge.

While contemplating whether to turn and head back, we noticed the barge getting ever so slowly closer. Faint cheesy melodies from a low-amp boom box betrayed the presence of a crew.

It was a makeshift ferry, cranked back and forth across the river by two diligent locals. You pay a small fee for passage, and they'll get you across. But one of the gents had no qualms about handing over the cranking duty to an overly ambitious gringo.

After disembarking, we headed on toward Cerros...strangely, the ferry was the highlight of the trip. A week later we learned that only a few days after our crossing a couple had forgotten to put on their parking break while on the same ferry. Let's hope their insurance covered that mishap.

2009-05-23T17:11:00.000+08:00

Tris learns to fish

Kate's brother in Belize, Tris, learned to fish on an outing with his grandfather. We sat back and enjoyed the lesson. Although you don't see the action so much here, Tris ended up catching more than anyone on the boat. The catch got cooked up a few days later back at an Orange Walk BBQ - Marie Sharp was again a most welcome guest.

Tris's grandfather is a versed outdoorsman. He's less the trapper-woodsman and more the jungle trekker, who decades ago led hunts through the rain forests of Central America. He had some valuable fishing tips to impart his grandson.

2009-04-22T20:20:00.001+08:00

Kate launches "Flog"

Food of all kinds is everywhere in this country. Singapore's culinary artifacts are many and manifold, thanks to the four cultures that have meshed here over the last few hundred years.

In her food blog (or "Flog"), Kate is documenting her dining experiences like a true mushroom taster: there are many young adventurous ones, and many old cautious ones - but hardly any old adventurous ones. Let's see how long she lasts before we have to rush her to the ER.

2009-04-18T01:35:00.001+08:00

In suspense

This is the cool thing about high-rises in Singapore: window cleaners. They provide welcome distraction at work....Malaysian migrants polishing up the glass and giving you a sideways stare. I put this one on the spot.

2009-04-13T11:02:00.000+08:00

A bit of photography

Kate has posted some of her albums on "A bit of everything." A good range of people, places, and things. She'll be keeping this updated regularly, with lots of stills from Southeast Asia. Looks like Malaysia will be next.

2009-04-12T19:25:00.000+08:00

The art of piñata...smashing

Pupils at an elementary school in Orange Walk demo their piñata-bludgeoning skills just before Christmas break. Belizeans have their own art to the tradition. Here a run-down of the techniques.

2009-04-11T18:11:00.000+08:00

Oh, what you can get in a can

These were all firsts for me: Green tea in a can, a barley drink in a "can," and...

...Colt 45 in a can. Had to travel half the globe to find that one. I'm not sure which is worse, that they actually offer it, or that it costs 2.50 a can.

2009-04-10T21:26:00.000+08:00

Betty: the second coming

Not two months ago did I drop my faithful Betty off to the caprices of her next owner. It is therefore with solemn anticipation that I look to her successor...who officially arrived on the market this week. Sorry Betty I, for my fickle loyalty. Betty II, see you in a year or so, I hope.

2009-04-05T19:59:00.000+08:00

If this doesn't make you want to enroll your kids in Chinese classes...

...I'm not sure what will. This is a campaign that has been launched by the Promote Mandarin Council. Those who value linguistic diversity may not agree with the goal of the campaign; those who enjoy cute commercials won't care. These kids are impressive, and make me wish my brain cells hadn't hardened around red-neck English and a bit of High German.

2009-04-04T16:19:00.000+08:00

Everybody loves teacher Badhra

Badhra, Kate's good friend and one-time host mother from Belize, is a popular teacher - even when she isn't teaching. Kate and I got to experience the admiration her former students still have for her. Pretty amazing, really - at least I don't remember wanting to hug my second or third-grade teacher so much.

2009-03-22T11:41:00.000+08:00

The things you learn

You can learn a lot through a walk in Chinatown: which camera stores NOT to buy at, that a small bakery in the neighborhood called "Backstube" is quite popular among the locals, and how to prepare eel for dinner. That last one was particularly inspiring. Not for the squeamish.

2009-03-16T00:02:00.000+08:00

Photo essay to bridge the gap

Some camera work during our exploration. The captions tell the story (be sure to click on the cartoon dialog box in the lower left corner).

2009-03-15T11:06:00.001+08:00

A bit of everything...as you haven't seen much of anything here

OK, Tramps Abroad is still on - but I doubt the frequency of the posts will keep up with what is going on over here (heck, I'm still working on posts from Belize). Therefore, Kate has seceded - to set up her own photo-blog on Singapore, and she is much more loyal than I to her readers. She already has several posts from our excursions and mishaps.

Here it is: a bit of everything.

Kate's photo-blog is much cooler, obviously, because she uses Mac software and photos she takes. I will still be here though, wallowing in my Web-app inferiority.

2009-03-07T20:33:00.000+08:00

Ms. Bravo-Bhasin has a go at culture shock

As I prepare to write up a first impression of Singapore, I wanted to draw some attention to an adept describing of culture shock. Travel novels are often the literature of choice for those researching a new country (I recommend works such as Paul Theroux’s Dark Star Safari or Bruce Chatwin’s In Patagonia), but they are usually too specific - and too long. When it comes to succinctly capturing the psychological tugs of culture shock, Marión Bravo-Bhasin pegs it.

The book in which these few paragraphs appear is actually a series – appropriately named Culture Shock!; Ms. Bravo-Bhasin writes the installment on Singapore. But the feelings she relates in five stages could apply from Columbia to Cambodia; Juneau to Jakarta.

Culture Shock

Stage one: the honeymoon

Everything is new and exciting. The best thing to do is learn to observe with curiosity and interest; learn to focus on the similarities and how we are really very much alike.

Stage two: initial confrontation

Difficult times and crises in daily life begin to occur as the focus shifts from the similarities to the differences, which are suddenly everywhere! Communication may be a problem and feelings of dissatisfaction start to creep in. You may even feel discontent, impatient, angry, sad, and generally a little incompetent as you try your best to cope.

Stage three: Gradual Adjustment

You begin to gain some insight and understanding of the new culture, and a feeling of pleasure and sense of humor may be experienced. The environment is more familiar and a feeling of wanting-to-belong begins to take over. You start to evaluate and compare the old ways and the new ways, and may encounter some confusion over your own identity as a result.

Stage four: Adaptation

A greater integration into the new culture occurs and you start to get solid feelings of belonging and ease. There is increased enjoyment in new customs and ways of doing and saying things. It becomes clear that the new culture has good and bad things to offer. You then start to realize that there will be things you will miss when you return home.

Stage five: re-entry shock

Moving back to one’s country of origin has new consequences and you may find that things are no longer the same (because of course, you are no longer the same).

Now, with a staggered start, Kate and I had both made it through the list in Germany over the course of several years. Before I go into any detail about Singapore, I’ll just say we are already straddling stages one and two.

2009-02-21T06:51:00.000+08:00

It's time: our home for the next year

One more document to go, and we are off to Singapore for the year. We'll swing by the immigration office here in Germany one last time for what is called Sondererlaubnis für langfristigen Auslandsaufenthalt. That monstrous term is what we need so that the German border guard doesn't send us back to Singapore at the end of our stint (in which case the Singaporean border guard would send us back to Germany, and we would be caught in a perpetual 12-hour Quantas flight).

The dates are set: February 28, 2009 - February 28, 2010. What happens between those dates is a toss up. But supposedly, I will be working and writing, with a pronounced focus on APJ (Asia-Pacific Japan) content. The real winner in the deal, however, is Kate, who will be attending just about every course imaginable: Yoga, cooking (thank God), occupational therapy, photography, German (ironically), and perhaps even scuba diving.

We don't have a permanent place yet, but we will be spending the first month in the Orchard Rd. district. The relocation service has hooked us up with some whacky modern digs in an imposing glass prism of a building near SAP's offices.

So if your in the mood for a visit to Asia but don't necessarily want to forego the comforts of Western living, by all means, look us up in Singapore. And if you do want to forego those amenities, then just crash at ours for the night, and head out to Cambodia the following day - we're easy.

Kate will be setting up her own Photo site pretty soon, to visually document our excursions. We'll provide the link as soon as it's ready. Of course, we will also be keeping the Web lines open with intermittent blog posts and videos. So stay tuned, and let us know what you're up to as well.

We'll see you when we see you.

2009-02-08T17:12:00.000+08:00

Belize a la carte

It's been a month since we returned from our month-long trip to Belize. Preparations for our upcoming trip (stay tuned) have kept us from posting the vids, stills, and summaries. So we are posting an overview of the terrain we covered along with several quick and dirty videos of the highlights, which we compiled while "on site." Enjoy! (Some vids may be without sound, unfortunately).

Adventure a la carte

View Larger Map

I took all the videos out...will replace soon with better ones. The sound was all kacked.

2009-01-13T01:03:00.000+08:00

My pickney grew up!

Visiting Belize was like a homecoming: seeing my Belizean family, my Belizean home, and my former students. I was surprised to see that most things around the town had stayed the same. The stores, the restaurants, the city plaza, the tortilla factories, and even my old school hadn't changed very much. I felt like I had never left.

However, my students, "my pickney," in the local Creole parlance, changed dramatically. So much so that I even had to ask a few of them who they were. They all looked so much older, wiser, and much more grown-up.

When they came to visit, I caught myself doing double and triple takes, amazed at the young adults that they had become. These were the same children who sang and danced around my classroom; who recited the entire poem of Shel Silverstein's "Sick"; who played kickball with the passion only kids can have; who completely obliterated what I thought was an indestructible cockroach pinata; who hugged my waist so tight I couldn't move.

Now they are as tall as I am (if not a little bit taller).

Of my original class of 22, I got to see four of them during this trip. Unfortunately, three more came by after we had already left.

Thank you Steven, Kimberley, Mareli, and Adreli for stopping by and finding me. Sorry I missed you Edgar, Cindy, and Jonathan. I'm so very proud of you and who you have become. Next time I'm in Belize we are having a class reunion. Maybe even with a cameo appearance of "Freddie."

2009-01-06T07:05:00.001+08:00

Garifuna beats in Hopkins

About 14% of Belize's population is Garifuna, an ethnic group with Afican roots who predominantly dwell in the central-eastern district of Stann Creek - mostly in its capital, Dangriga (Garifuna people also live in Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua). Their history is complex and often tragic, but the Garifuna people have persevered through the centuries - their culture, music, and dance, for example, were recently recognized by Unesco as a "Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity."

Just south of the Garifuna capital lies the small beach town of Hopkins, where Kate and I stayed for two nights with the Colemans. On one of those evenings, we encountered a group of Garifuna musicians playing at a nearby drumming center. Six percussionists, with drums, shakers, and turtle shells gave us a show and a short tour of their music.

As Kate and I learned, Garifuna drum beats also form the foundation of "Punta Rock," a popular, contemporary genre comprising a mix of fast beats (everything about Garifuna music is fast) and electric instruments. Andy Palacio, the Belizien artist of the lead-in music in this video, did much to broaden the appeal of this music across the globe. You can find out more about his sad yet inspiring story here.

Thanks to the folks at the drumming center for their hospitality and the long, entertaining hours of rhythm.

2009-01-04T05:03:00.000+08:00

At home in Orange Walk

We have been gone a while - a month to be exact. Hence the radio silence on our blog. Our excuse: Belize.

We have many videos, photos, and thoughts to process before we can duly describe this beautifully diverse country. In the meantime, here's a short video of an average day at the Colemans' in Orange Walk, our gracious hosts and diligent guides through the weeks in Belize.

2008-11-13T19:57:00.000+08:00

And another succumbs to the switch

Welcome to the ranks, Bren. Hope you enjoy it - I'm here to advise.

2008-11-10T05:43:00.000+08:00

Adventures of Special K

Konrad got his first taste of Europe - including the Alps, Alsace, and more. We were lucky enough to accompany the cutie for some of his treks.

2008-11-07T04:56:00.000+08:00

Colmar avec les cousins

Kate and I zipped to France with Bren, Corey, and Special K last weekend. The destination was the Alsatian town of Colmar. Although it was a tad dreary, the townsfolk were out in droves. Following is a leisurely walk through the accordion-filled old town.

2008-10-26T15:39:00.001+08:00

James Blunt isn't such a pansy after all

A goon he may be; a pansy he is not. James Blunt gave a lively concert last week in Mannheim. He didn't deliver the overly sentimental gushing falsetto we expected. Mr. Blunt rocked out for us.

Kate had scored great seats and VIP parking - thanks to her elaborate connections in the local entertainment industry (she taught the whole arena staff English, even down to the guy who drives the zamboni).

So, aside from keeping our lunch down during "You're Beautiful" and "1973," we thoroughly enjoyed his performance. I would even recommend it.

2008-10-23T02:04:00.001+08:00

Deac and Jane in Europe

Dad and Jane came over for their honeymoon last month. We got to catch the start of their trip and accompany them to Switzerland. On the way, we swung by Auggen to visit Laurie and Ernie. Here are some shots and the link to their site

2008-10-19T19:14:00.000+08:00

Adobe Elements meets Final Cut

Following is a slight experiment in combining still shots with video software. It comprises about 120 still shots adapted with Adobe Photoshop Elements with graduated stylizing of four effects.

2008-10-12T14:00:00.001+08:00

Fall in full effect

Kate, wielding her D80, snapped some peak-fall photos of the town. Although no Vermont "fruity-pebbles-poured-on-mountains" landscape, the ruddy foliage, the terra-cotta-tile roofs, and the ubiquitous maroon sandstone in these parts pleasantly dominate the autumn spectrum. We'd enjoy the season even more if we knew winter wasn't so close behind.

2008-10-04T05:47:00.000+08:00

Birthday monkeys

Perry took me down to see monkeys near Lake Constance. I got to feed monkeys popcorn right from my palm the whole day. They were pleasantly fuzzy macaques - chubby, playful, shivering, mutually grooming monkeys. They sat on the posts and awaited their snack.

The monkey mountain, or Affenberg as it is called, also hosted other creatures, including deer, leviathan-sized carp, storks, ducks, geese, and elusive frogs.

We then went on to a town on the banks of Lake Constance for a Greek meal and a stroll along the promenade. Below you'll find a slide show and video of the day. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my birthday - everybody loves monkeys.

2008-10-03T02:39:00.000+08:00

Heidelberger Herbst

Every year, Heidelberg holds an autumn festival, to which Germans (and other nationalities) flock. Come 11:00 a.m., the streets are chock-a-block, shoulder-to-shoulder packed. Kate and I snuck down around 8:30 to beat the crowd and get a look at the preparations. The medieval theme is obvious from these shots - but there were also some unexpected sights and sounds.

2008-09-21T06:48:00.001+08:00

Graduating from iMovie to Final Cut

Special is not the video; rather how it was made. Final Cut has a pretty steep learning curve, but I finally can do with it what I can do with iMovie - and then some. Thus I'm retiring the latter.

What you may notice this time already:

Audio editing and audio transitions

Dissolve video transitions

Multitrack audio (three in this case)

No worries if you didn't notice - there will be some more drastic enhancements in the posts to come (I hope).

2008-09-20T01:47:00.001+08:00

Hike it

A five-hour hike through sleepy lion park in the Rockies. A few photos.

2008-09-20T01:47:00.000+08:00

Converting one family member at a time...

Mom got a Mac!

2008-09-17T03:22:00.001+08:00

Ivy the mountain dog

Ivy was my roommate for a few months during my last year of college. She's now nine years old, but still has her same slobbering habits. And she still likes to hike - here she chases prairie dogs in front of the flatirons backdrop.

2008-09-16T11:10:00.000+08:00

Three cities in two days

It's humbling how fast you can overcome time and space - and then scramble to prove it in a multimedia story. In less than two days, I dropped off the folks in Grindelwald, Switzerland, landed in Denver, and sped on to Las Vegas. Although it was fun to compare and contrast the Alps and the Rockies while both fresh in the head, traversing time zones and climates that fast takes its toll on body and mind. Luckily, I dropped in on friends and family during the tour (with intermittent work commitments), which kept me going. Off to Frankfurt tomorrow.

2008-09-15T02:17:00.001+08:00

Rumble in the Rockies

Tomas hustles like a hare. What he lacks in skill he makes up for in sheer tongue-sticking-out-the-corner-of-the-mouth determination. Here's a look at his Pele-caliber soccer moves. Way to scrap, T!

2008-09-13T09:35:00.000+08:00

Again to Auggen...

One of the last stops on Kris's itinerary was a (too) quick visit to Laurie and Ernie in Auggen. It was a mini-reunion with sauerkraut and Ernie's constant consultations on marriage.

2008-09-01T04:00:00.000+08:00

Konrad Ernst Soennecken has arrived...

OK, usually babies this young aren't what I would call cute. But little Konrad here is a special case. This one is acutely cute. The dude's got the disposition of a boy beyond his, well...months. Just try to avert his piercing gaze. He's already got the world figured out and is ruminating on his conclusions.

This precocious tot is the son of my cousins Brendan and Corey. He joined the planet about two weeks ago. He'll be heading over to Germany end of October. Kate and I hope he'll be staying a while. Congrats Corey and Bren - you've definitely got a little corner of the sun now!

2008-09-01T02:57:00.000+08:00

Visit from Portland

I hadn't seen Ivan in about six years. He's an Edinboro, PA native who showed me and the high-school crew around the panhandle back in the day. We met his wife Tara and their one-year-old daughter Adha for the first time. The three of them are doing a tour of Europe, with four weeks to do it in. We were fortunate enough to see them twice during their ramble. The sights of Heidelberg were a given on the agenda.

2008-08-13T05:47:00.000+08:00

Flirting with high dynamic range (HDR)

This is my first go at HDR images. If any of you Tramps Abroad viewers have worked with HDR before, I would very much appreciate some tips.

The first example was taken by Kate at St. Antimo in Tuscany. The second was taken outside Interlaken. The third was at Omaha Beach. Sorry for the watermark - it's still a trial version of the software.

Normal (click to enlarge)	HDR (click to enlarge)

Normal (click to enlarge)	HDR (click to enlarge)

Normal (click to enlarge)	HDR (click to enlarge)

2008-08-09T00:16:00.000+08:00

It's pronounced like "Favre"

So what do Paris, France and Green Bay, Wisconsin have in common? They both celebrate icons whose names end in the utterly unutterable "vre". Yes, although Brett FaVRE has himself probably never been to the LouVRE, he does share with the museum this linguistic peculiarity.

So either the star quarterback has French forefathers, or a trapper from Wisconsin found serious favor in Louis the XV's court.

Anyway, here are a few shots and videos of our visit to this art trove. Kris enjoyed the variety of sculptures, paintings, and artifacts. Although nice to get the lowdown on prehistoric Mesopotamia, I think I would have rather seen a Packers game.

2008-07-28T01:34:00.000+08:00

l'Alsace

The last Sunday before work starts again in full swing. Kate and I headed West to the Alsace region of France, where we visited the towns of Wissenbourg, Seebach, Hoffen, Hunspach, and even a bit of the Maginot Line. This region is only an hour from Heidelberg, it is the true birth place of Amish patchwork and was home to those who decided to call the New World "America." Who'd a thunk it? Below are some pics of these still mediaeval looking hamlets.

2008-07-27T01:22:00.000+08:00

A frist go at Maki

Tired of putting down the cash for plates full of raw fish, Kate and I decided to try our luck with the salmonella gods and prepare our own maki and sushi. The verdict is still out, as we are still digesting, but I think we had a respectable premier. Foogoo, here we come.

2008-07-26T00:08:00.000+08:00

Swedjin...as if one weren't enough

Given Kate and I put in longer hours than we'd like to, we thought it would be fair to the cat that she get a roomie. The name of the Beast is Swedjin. She is evil.

2008-07-06T19:37:00.000+08:00

EURO 2008 atmosphere

Just a few shots of Heidelberg before the Euro 2008 finals. The entire country had mobilized for the deciding game, showing up at public viewing areas en mass. Here's a small sample of the Euro 2008 feeling.

2008-07-06T16:30:00.000+08:00

Pan's Plunge

On May 29, getting on to 10 at night, Pan was playing innocently at our feet with a new toy, when something out of the window caught her eye. The last thing Kate and I saw was her hind quarters fly out the window.

She's fine now - a sort of bionic kitty, with a steel-pinned leg and an epoxy jaw. We compiled this video to help Kate process the trauma and to help me deal with the shock of the vet bill.

2008-07-03T01:42:00.000+08:00

Party in the Park

As a way to say thank you and goodbye to some of Kate's students, we hosted a small barbeque and corn-hole event. It was a great way to spend a Saturday - playing games and eating lots.

Thanks to everyone who came, and we missed the ones who couldn't make it.

2008-06-15T22:10:00.000+08:00

Le Road Trip (Updated with Video)

We chomped off a large chunk of Western Europe this summer, hitting several touristy and not-so-touristy sites along the way: from Heidelberg to Paris, to Normandy, to Bruges, to Trier, through the Moselle Valley and back home. Here's the route; the video recap is now in there..

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2008-05-31T02:09:00.000+08:00

San Fran for a Day

A small mix of business and pleasure. First visit to San Fran in nearly 20 years. Before meeting with the folks at Business Objects in San Jose, got to see a bit of the bay area and Silicon valley. Was amazed at how quickly you get into nature. A quick look at the city...

2008-05-26T04:20:00.000+08:00

Kayaking? ...Nahe.

We've got nothin' on nature. After a strong performance on the Altmuhl last year, we were utterly humbled by the shallow and rocky waters of the River Nahe, about 60 km West Southwest of Mainz. We tallied a total of three instances of capsizing - the water wasn't exactly thermal-spring fed either.

Met a Samaritan after the second close encounter with the water. We all disembarked, and he drove us (and our kayaks) a ways to a better campground (I don't know where we would have staid that night if we hadn't met him out on the water). He even brought us blankets, a dry sleeping bag, a hot plate of steaming noodles and tomato sauce, and a bottle of wine later on that evening. We sat with him late into the night, watching him smoke cigars and talk about dirt bikes and wasted tax euros.

We are already scheduling our rematch with the River Nahe for next year...we'll make sure to call our Samaritan in advance.

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2008-05-26T04:12:00.000+08:00

Visit to Auggen Revisited

Brenner was in town two weeks after our previous visit to Laurie and Ernie's place in Auggen. Didn't do much, but that was the best part.

2008-04-20T21:36:00.000+08:00

Aunt and Uncle in Auggen

Got to sprint down Schwarzwald-way to visit Laurie and Ernie at the old winery in Auggen. They had some marvelous stories that day. A more recent one we caught on video:

2008-04-20T18:36:00.000+08:00

Crete a la Karte

Music, video, and cartography: a little over-documentation. But you can cover more of the senses this way...all we need now is an odoriferous USB-stick. Anyway, for those who haven't been to Crete, let this lure you. So much to do that you can't plan for, and it wouldn't be as fun if you did.

The best way to navigate through the map is to click on "View Larger Map," below the lower left corner of the map. The photos embedded in the map are a nice touch - just click on the icons. The photos were taken more or less where the icons are on the map.

View Larger Map

2008-03-25T01:52:00.000+08:00

Füüüüüüüßen: Part II

Yes, we are getting into video production...it gets the message across so much more vividly. The following is a video recap of the Sams' maiden trip across the pond - they are scheduled to arrive this summer for their next adventure. Look forward to seeing you Connie and Van!!

2008-03-21T06:05:00.000+08:00

Matt and Dad in D-Land Video Recap

Just a quick revisiting of Dad and Matt's visit to Germany in the fall of last year - this time with the land-lover activities as well.

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2008-03-16T19:58:00.000+08:00

London in a Day
One of the world's largest cities in one day...not easy. But we packed in quite a few sights, including a musical (joy). The video sums up our 24-hour tour of England's capital.

2008-03-02T20:12:00.000+08:00

Donegal on horseback

It was back in 2005, but wanted to highlight Kris's first trip to Ireland nonetheless. She learned to ride quickly, and even galloped down the wooded trail avoiding every low-hanging branch and returning with only a slightly strained back.

We hope to see her in Europe again soon.

2008-02-26T03:34:00.001+08:00

Flat Stanley Visits Heidelberg

Kate and I got a little carried away with a project for her second-grade second cousin. Flat Stanley, who had suffered a horrendous bulletin-board accident, was sent to us from the States. It was our duty to show him around and integrate him with the locals. The following is a short documentary of his excursions.

2008-02-03T16:46:00.000+08:00

Introducing Pan the Jungle Kitty

She's wild....oh yes she is wild. Pan (short for schizophrenic pandemonium the jungle kitty) joined our enclave on January 4. We drove 100km to the town of Mosbach in the Neckar valley to browse for a feline Fritz. We stumbled across Pan, who was very reserved - except when it came to biting our fingers when we weren’t paying attention. We basically took her home, because we figured she didn't have a chance with anyone else.

Pan the Jungle Kitty

After spending the first two nights petrified under our couch, Pan emerged to lay claim to our domicile - with proud gesturing and stinky poo. She now attacks our feet, toes, rugs, upholstery, plasma television (yikes!). She has terrorized our plants, and her scratching post is little more than a splintered toothpick.

But at night she nestles between us, purring, squinting, and then sleeping soundly...until about 3:00 a.m., when playtime once again ensues.

But we love her anyway, just as any parent would have to love a problem child.

2008-01-30T04:56:00.000+08:00

Christmas in the Balkans

With little warning, I was off to the Balkans to spend a solitary Christmas. Hit one of the nicest Christmas markets I'd ever seen in Ljubljana and visited the owner of a youth hostel in Zagreb - the one I help build seven years ago. It has since expanded by about 150%, with more and more visitors coming each year.

Was a bummer not to see the fam, but at least I got a lot of reading done. Bog!

Christmas in the Balkans

2007-12-24T03:57:00.000+08:00

That Wii Feeling

Kate had her students over for a night of great cooking and serious Wii competition. Kate whooped them all at boxing, including me. Had some great laughes with a great group of people - although I wouldn't recommend introducing Germans to American cuisine by simultaneously offering them chilli, egg nog, and pumpkin rolls.

BubbleShare: Share photos - Print Christmas Coloring Pages.

2007-11-10T19:40:00.000+08:00

φιλοξενία...

...Hospitality in Greek - and that's just what we came across every single day. The people are what made our trip to Greece, such as the Cretan wiseman Jhannis of Axos, who played the Lyra and sang to us, served us Greek wine, "Raki," and peanuts, while giving us a short history lesson about the country and his family.

BubbleShare: Share photos - Thanksgivingtime!

The creatures of Crete kept us on our toes as well: Donkeys, cats, camels, horses, dogs, lamas, chickens, and annoying geese. The kitties were the hightlight, who slept in our stone bungalow and ate us out of house and home.

BubbleShare: Share photos - Thanksgivingtime!

The beaches in Crete were almost as accomodating. Each one was different, with its own charm: pebbly shores, sandy strands, craggy coves, lucid waters - we had to hike a few kilomoters or brave narrow gravel roads just to get to a few of them.

BubbleShare: Share photos - Delicious Christmas Recipes.

2007-10-14T19:16:00.000+08:00

Road trips with the Jeep

My German 101 professor, Dr. Jeep, staid with us for a month while he taught the students on the exchange program I took part in 10 years ago. We headed to Dinkelsbühl in Bavaria and hiked through the Odenwald.

BubbleShare: Share photos - halloween photos

2007-10-14T18:35:00.000+08:00

Kayaking down the Altmuhl

Deac and Matt braved a long flight to brave an even longer Kayak tour down the Altmuhltal - an ancient valley spotted with medieval towns and old mills. We paddled a total of 30 miles in three days, camping on the riverside sites when the sun fell, going out for some traditional cuisine and tasty beer after a long day on the water. Deac got to show off his iPhone to the locals (see pic).
Here's a video of us coming in to our final destination: Eichstätt - followed by a selection of pics from the voyage.

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2007-09-02T23:31:00.000+08:00

Waat iz dat?

Yes, the first installment of the Sams' Family Vacation in Europe took place here in Germany from July 19 - August 12. Three weeks of road-tripping, beer-sipping, and autobahn-ripping. Bavaria, the Rhine valley, the Neckar valley, Austria, castles, farms, mountains, funiculars, violin museums, suaerkruat, spaghetti icecream, sausage, knödel, betty blaring, back seats, dairy farms, trains, towers, rivers, bridges, walking, whiplash, fast turns, dictator get-aways, memorials, musicians' cribs, strong coffee, B&Bs, pipe organs, wood cuts, gardens, street performers, rude French, rain, shine, rolling hills, hopps, schnitzel, and - of course - Füüüüüüüüüüüüüüüüüüüüüssen!

It was simply a grand time with true road warriors. The following pics are just a selection from the Sams Family photo archive. Kate and I can't wait til they come back next year.

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2007-05-06T04:59:00.000+08:00

All Over the Tuscan Sun

Our VW, since christened "Betty," got a work out: gravel roads, hairpin turns, and Italian drivers - even through downtown Florence. Whether fending off the reckless moped drivers in the cities, stopping at as many vineyards in the Chianti region as we could, or scrambling at dusk for the nearest "agriturismo," Kate and I put a lot of Tuscany behind us - looking forward to going again when the sunflowers are in bloom.

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2007-04-10T02:53:00.000+08:00

Easter near Eiger

Faced with free gas and two holidays to kill, Kate and I headed to Germany's southern neighbor for a bit of R&R Swiss style. We put the GTI to the test for the first time on the German Autobahn, flirting with its top speed (no comment for the sake of parental sanity) until the speed limit signs at the border (and the rumors of five-figure fines for speeding) brought us out of sixth gear to a leisurely 90 miles per hour.

The Alps greeted us from behind a blanket of haze, which had materialized from the unseasonably hot sun sizzling the snow-capped summits. We put our sport suspension to the test, braving the narrow switchbacks and loose stones on the ridge above to make it to our home base for the next three days: Beatenberg.

Interlaken, Bern, Basel, Kandersteg, Brienz, and all the roads in between - thanks to our new GPS (who we named Betty on account of the annoying female British voice telling us to watch our speed), we were able to pack in a hefty number of destinations in those three days. The pictures tell the rest.

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2007-04-02T04:05:00.000+08:00

30

Kate got me. I guess when you turn 30, you let your guard down a little. That's the only way I can explain how she totally sideswiped me with a surprise birthday party. I had just come from a work-related event in Sardinia and wasn't expecting a thing. Somehow Kate got me to recommend that we take a look at a bowling alley in town...when I saw all the folks there, I thought we had stumbled upon someone else's party...my first reaction was: "and they didn't even invite us!" What a sucker!

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2007-03-22T07:04:00.001+08:00

AmDam
Kate took me up to Amsterdam for my birthday last year...this post is a little over due. We did what most do in AmDam: rode bikes and wore wooden shoes. Here's a quick slide show of our antics.

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2007-03-18T05:59:00.000+08:00

It's a Girl!

2007-02-25T02:03:00.000+08:00

Pack It in!

Deac and Jane came to Europe - and set a record for the number of kilometers driven in one two weeks. Their trip took them to us, the Black Forest, Italy, Austria, and along the Neckar valley to a few medieval towns in lower Bavaria. Kate and I got to join them for some of the excursions, our most favorite, of course, being Titisee (notice the mashed potatoes). And when they weren't traveling, they were out exploring Heidelberg or turning our kitchen into a Christmas cookie war zone.

We meandered through the lower and upper Schwarzwald (killer pics of foot hills turning into mountains, mountains into the peaks of the Alps in the distance); stopped by to see Ernst, Laurie, and Shai; chowed down on some Rippchen (German ham chops) and sauerkraut; sang Christmas carols; and read some verse. We then swung through Freiburg, ventured out into the Alsace region of France and brought it back home via the A5. That was about 1/8 of what Jane and Deac did.

Anyway, enjoy the pics.

2007-01-19T03:28:00.000+08:00

Warning: Goats!

As we looked out of the plane window, Fuerteventura, one of the larger Canary Island specimens, was a craggy moonscape. It wasn’t until we hopped in our blue Citroen, exchanged less-then-friendly words with our travel agency on account of the cockroach-infested accommodation, and made it to the coast that we understood why beach enthusiasts from all over Europe storm these strands throughout the year.

In fact, these weren’t beaches per se, but rather fields of sand that bordered on the ocean. The sands swept by the strong winds from Africa peppered the landscape each day, forming rolling dunes and carving deep furrows into the cliffs. Countless years of sand barrages made it possible for you to walk almost a half-mile out into the surf with the water reaching no higher than your waist.

Couldn’t sit still…well, I couldn’t, and we hit the roads to various beaches on all points of the compass. Dodging the random goat, we made our way to various parched destinations in the island interior and sojourned at an eclectic mix of culinary pit stops. The cuisine catered to the two main groups of tourists who frequent the island: the Germans and the British, both of which seem to be striving to take over the Americans in the obesity category.

During one visit to the beach, we were over taken by a pair of middle-aged men. Once they advanced from our peripheral vision, we noticed that each held two ski poles, striding valiantly and briskly along the surf and donning beige T-shirts, rucksacks, sunglasses – and nothing else. Nordic walking nudists! Their sun-burnt posteriors had recently visited the cosmetologist, and the confidence in their gate betrayed two facts: they were German, and they were of the other sexual persuasion. What made the whole episode that much more hilarious was that Kate and I saw the line of tourists making their way toward us, who also beheld the spectacle and fell like laughing dominos as the semi-nudists frolicked down the beach.

Kate and I fled the tourist rush by heading out to “the open sea,” trying out some scuba diving, jet skiing, and deep-sea fishing, and visiting the volcanic precipices of Fuerteventura’s northern neighbor, Lanzarote. On a particularly touristy day, we retreated to a Sauna, where we squatted in overly heated saltwater and where Kate enjoyed a one-hour massage. We spent a good deal of our time chilling back at the bungalow, where we played host to the odd stray cat.

Eleven days we spent on the island, purging the hard work of 2006 from our minds – playing card games on the terrace and partaking of the cheap-but-good cerbeza de las Canarias.

2006-12-10T01:45:00.000+08:00

Football Fever

Once every four years, qualifying countries have to deal with some serious butterflies. The world's largest, most watched sporting event (makes the Super Bowl seem like a Gilligan’s Isle re-run) took place this time 'round in none other than Germany. The whole country was electrified. Neither Kate nor I was an avid soccer (football, as the Europeans seem to call it) follower, but this summer opened up our eyes. Imagine if American football (with shoulder pads and the like) spread to the rest of the world, and instead of Pittsburgh against Cleveland or any other rivalry, you have Iran against the U.S. - scary prospect.

In any case, emotions run just as high when England takes on France or the Ukraine takes on Russia. Kate and I, through freak chance, were able to land tickets to a game: Ivory Coast against the Netherlands. The stadium was packed with orange (Netherlands) fans, and you could only pity the Ivory coast players on the field, whose followers, due to lack of proximity and prosperity, had no hope of attending. The Dutch, however, convened en masse on the Stuttgart stadium in their motor homes and Opels, drunk as sailors and louder than any Raiders fan could ever hope to be. Kate and I went under cover. Here are some pictures from the chaos, as well as a bunch of inebriated Dutch doing the wave.

(Final score: Netherlands 2; Ivory Coast 1)

2006-11-07T06:11:00.000+08:00

Escape to the States

Philadelphia, Chicago, Denver, Frankfurt...all in a week's work. This year's trip home was a whirlwind. Glad I got to see the fam...and a few sketchy cats in downtown Chicago. The highlight of course was mi sobrino - Tomasito.

2006-11-06T01:30:00.000+08:00

Road trip!

About this time (early November) last year, Kate and I had enough of spending our weekends moving from one place to the other (Heidelberg -> Mannheim -> Heidelberg, etc.) and decided take our first train-trip road trips. We started out modestly, as both locations are within 200 km of Heidelberg, but it was nice to get out nonetheless.

Rothenberg is one of those typical "quaint" (I hate the word) towns that, during the summer especially, are stacked with Japanese, American, and Australian tourists. In the winter months, though, it's just the locals. You just can't get enough of the walled city. It's history is rich and even humorous. For example, when the Swedes came down to reek havoc on the Catholic population of Germany, they sacked this little town. When they confronted the town's mayor, the cut him a deal: drink a barrel of beer in one go or watch the city go down in flames (so goes the legend). The good man took the brew down without a wink. Yes, the town was inspiring indeed.

Speyer is a bit different. It has no wall (anymore), but is home to one of the most impressive Romanesque cathedrals I've seen. The city has its own brewery and its own amusement park...If you visit Speyer, I would advise visiting the latter before the former.

Here are some pics from our excursions:

2006-11-06T01:19:00.000+08:00

Black Forest wedding

It was an unseasonably warm, sunny day in the hills of the Black Forest in southwestern Germany, near the town of Kandern. Family came in from all over the world: the U.S., Italy, Germany, and even Vietnam. The wedding was held in a church built around 900 A.D. In run-up to it, there was a lot of nervousness and a lot of cigarettes - the end result: a happy couple. The pictures don't do the day justice; the video only gives you an idea (sorry if it's crooked).

I'm finally posting the pictures a whole year after Brenner and Corey got hitched. Happy anniversary!

2006-11-04T00:41:00.000+08:00

Weihnachtsmarkt 2005

We had a lot of fun going around to all the Christmas markets last year. Sipping Glühwein, petting donkeys, eating waffles, and even on occasion doing some Christmas shopping. It's really amazing how warm that Glühwein makes you feel in the bitter cold.

Video of puppetier at the Bad Wimpfen Weihnachtsmarkt

A quick look at the cheesey good fun at the German Christmas markets.

2006-11-04T00:28:00.000+08:00

Home Sweet Home!

For those of you who haven't seen our place. . . .

2006-11-04T00:09:00.000+08:00

Juanes, Bee, and Me

Who is Juanes? Yeah, that was my question when I was invited to go to see him in concert. Having one of my first girls' nights out in Germany, Berenice and I traveled to Mannheim to watch this very popular Latino performer sing about how he has a black shirt. It was a very cool concert and now I am an owner of his CD. Go figure!

2006-11-03T23:42:00.000+08:00

The winter that never ended . . .

Last year in Germany, the winter seemed to last for 8 months. Oh that's right, it did. There was a record amount of snow and a never ending chill in your bones. We were happy when May finally rolled around and brought us some sunshine. I'm praying that this year isn't as bad.

Here, too, a link to a video of a crazy parasailer we came across on one of our winter hikes.

2006-11-03T23:32:00.000+08:00

A Brubeck Christmas
For an early Christmas surprise, Perry took me to see Dave Brubeck in concert. As relunctant as I was to wander out into the cold, the performance by Brubeck and his sons quickly made it all worth while. It was an incredible concert.
Listen to Brubeck jam . . .

2006-11-03T05:08:00.000+08:00

Heidelberg through Mark Twain's eyes:

Heidelberg lies at the mouth of a narrow gorge--a gorge the shape of a shepherd's crook; if one looks up it he perceives that it is about straight, for a mile and a half, then makes a sharp curve to the right and disappears. This gorge--along whose bottom pours the swift Neckar-- is confined between (or cloven through) a couple of long, steep ridges, a thousand feet high and densely wooded clear to their summits, with the exception of one section which has been shaved and put under cultivation. These ridges are chopped off at the mouth of the gorge and form two bold and conspicuous headlands, with Heidelberg nestling between them; from their bases spreads away the vast dim expanse of the Rhine valley, and into this expanse the Neckar goes wandering in shining curves and is presently lost to view.

Now if one turns and looks up the gorge once more, he will see the Schloss Hotel on the right perched on a precipice overlooking the Neckar--a precipice which is so sumptuously cushioned and draped with foliage that no glimpse of the rock appears. The building seems very airily situated. It has the appearance of being on a shelf half-way up the wooded mountainside; and as it is remote and isolated, and very white, it makes a strong mark against the lofty leafy rampart at its back.

This hotel had a feature which was a decided novelty, and one which might be adopted with advantage by any house which is perched in a commanding situation. This feature may be described as a series of glass-enclosed parlors CLINGING TO THE OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE, one against each and every bed-chamber and drawing-room. They are like long, narrow, high-ceiled bird-cages hung against the building. My room was a corner room, and had two of these things, a north one and a west one.

From the north cage one looks up the Neckar gorge; from the west one he looks down it. This last affords the most extensive view, and it is one of the loveliest that can be imagined, too. Out of a billowy upheaval of vivid green foliage, a rifle-shot removed, rises the huge ruin of Heidelberg Castle, with empty window arches, ivy-mailed battlements, moldering towers--the Lear of inanimate nature--deserted, discrowned, beaten by the storms, but royal still, and beautiful. It is a fine sight to see the evening sunlight suddenly strike the leafy declivity at the Castle's base and dash up it and drench it as with a luminous spray, while the adjacent groves are in deep shadow.

Behind the Castle swells a great dome-shaped hill, forest-clad, and beyond that a nobler and loftier one. The Castle looks down upon the compact brown-roofed town; and from the town two picturesque old bridges span the river. Now the view broadens; through the gateway of the sentinel headlands you gaze out over the wide Rhine plain, which stretches away, softly and richly tinted, grows gradually and dreamily indistinct, and finally melts imperceptibly into the remote horizon.

I have never enjoyed a view which had such a serene and satisfying charm about it as this one gives.

The first night we were there, we went to bed and to sleep early; but I awoke at the end of two or three hours, and lay a comfortable while listening to the soothing patter of the rain against the balcony windows. I took it to be rain, but it turned out to be only the murmur of the restless Neckar, tumbling over her dikes and dams far below, in the gorge. I got up and went into the west balcony and saw a wonderful sight. Away down on the level under the black mass of the Castle, the town lay, stretched along the river, its intricate cobweb of streets jeweled with twinkling lights; there were rows of lights on the bridges; these flung lances of light upon the water, in the black shadows of the arches; and away at the extremity of all this fairy spectacle blinked and glowed a massed multitude of gas-jets which seemed to cover acres of ground; it was as if all the diamonds in the world had been spread out there. I did not know before, that a half-mile of sextuple railway-tracks could be made such an adornment.

One thinks Heidelberg by day--with its surroundings-- is the last possibility of the beautiful; but when he sees Heidelberg by night, a fallen Milky Way, with that glittering railway constellation pinned to the border, he requires time to consider upon the verdict.

One never tires of poking about in the dense woods that clothe all these lofty Neckar hills to their beguiling and impressive charm in any country; but German legends and fairy tales have given these an added charm. They have peopled all that region with gnomes, and dwarfs, and all sorts of mysterious and uncanny creatures. At the time I am writing of, I had been reading so much of this literature that sometimes I was not sure but I was beginning to believe in the gnomes and fairies as realities.

2006-11-03T04:30:00.000+08:00

What's a fjord horse?

In July, Kate and I took a short weekend excursion up to the northern German city of Erfurt to do some riding - it was Kate's first lesson. Tender rears aside, it was good fun. The riding school was a former stagecoach rest station for the famous trade route through the Thüringer forest between the Bavarian city of Nüremberg with Erfuhrt, both of which were city states in medival times.

Kate went from beginner to intermediate in the course of a few hours. She learned how to gear the hores up, ride the trot, and even canter. The big treat was the school's large number of fjord horses. With a black stripe down the center of their white kempt manes, they really were amazing animals.

2006-11-02T04:15:00.000+08:00

Coming soon...

About a GTI

Fuerteventura

2006-11-02T03:54:00.000+08:00

Mississippi comes to Germany

In July, Seth and Rachel came over to visit us all the way from Mississippi. Heidelberg wasn't quite sure what to make of the "Southerners," but Perry was thrilled to have people to drink beer with him, and I was overjoyed to see my precious friends and have a whole week to hang out. We did so much in such a short period of time. It was a blast going shopping, visiting a variety of towns nearby (Schwetzingen, Walldorf, and Dilsberg), trying typical German cuisine, taking river cruises, and chatting about anything and everything. It was an awesome time!

One of the best parts was that Seth got to watch the final of the World Cup in the host country. Unfortunately, Germany didn't make it to the final, but the excitement and thrill was still there. We sat at a local beer garden in the middle of the Old City among an even split of Italian and French fans. Several beers later, we watched the Italians walk away victorious.

Seth and Rach: Heidelberg is truly not the same without you. We miss you guys so much. Congratulations on the little munchkin!!!!

2006-11-02T03:31:00.000+08:00

Wine and German profanity

Gus and Mel, here they are. I think we wore them out. Sorry guys, if that's the case. We let them sleep just a bit after they landed in Frankfurt, but spurned them on, rented a convertible, hit the famous German Wine Road down the hills of the Palatinate, got them lost on their anniversary in Hirschhorn, chased them up the hills to see the castles, and whooped them at Settlers of Catan.

Mel, Gus: thanks for coming and being good sports. I hope the sore muscles won't keep you from a return visit...Italy or bust.

2006-11-02T03:11:00.000+08:00

My big fat French wedding

My old roommate from Kent got married this summer in his hometown of Bordeaux, France. Guillaume, who met his German wife in the States, now lives with her in Japan and is coaching baseball. Strange world. The wedding, held at a chateaux in the wine country of Bordeaux, was indeed something else, bringing people together from Germany, the U.S., and Japan. Needless to say there was plenty of wine to be had - balanced only by the eight courses of French cooking.

Here are a few pics:

2006-11-02T01:07:00.000+08:00

A Swabian Birthday for Kate

Rebelling against our sedentary Sundays, Kate and I decided to take a day trip along the Neckar river to Schwäbisch Hall, a town nestled in the crooks of the rolling Swabian hills. We could hear the Swabian dialect throughout the narrow alleys and at the Fachwerk cafés, while eating some of the Swabian specialties, such as the ever tasty Maultaschen.

More info:
Schwäbisch Hall

2006-09-18T00:19:00.000+08:00

Doing stuff for the community...'n stuff

Sunday night. Typical calm before the storm of another work week. Kate is painting. I am playing a round of Settlers of Catan. Some of us are more creative than others, I guess. We avoided drifting through this weekend, which we usually do just to restore or sanity in preparation for the week to come, and dabbled in our first European volunteer project. But not just any volunteer project.

This weekend, SAP AG Germany introduced several volunteer initiatives. SAP is trying to get its corporate-citizenship ball rolling by getting 150 of its employees to sacrifice their Saturday and get involved in the community. Now SAP has a local staff of 10,000 strong, so 1,5% may not seem like a whole lot. But do not underestimate the sanctity of the German Saturday, especially a German SAP employee's Saturday - it's worth its hours in gold.

Kate and I donated our Saturday to painting the interior of a nonprofit private kindergarten. Kate put her painting skills to the test. Here are some pictures: