Author Archives: holidaymistake

India-light

.

.

When we landed at Colombo, Sri Lanka and took a taxi to the hotel, there was hardly anyone on the road. I was half expecting Delhi-style traffic chaos. We checked into the hundred-year-old Grand Oriental Hotel, which had seen better days. A few hotel employees were in the lobby intently watching the tv, which was playing a repeating infomercial of the hotel. Very Strange. Needless to say, it took a lot longer than it should have to check in. All very similar to India, but not quite as crazy; Sri Lanka was India-light.

Some of the similarities and differences I noticed:

Tuk tuk. The Sri Lankan 3 wheel taxi

Tuk tuk. The Sri Lankan 3 wheel taxi

1. For being a laid-back people, Sri Lankans are aggressive, reckless drivers. Anything goes on the road. The main difference to India is that there are less sacred cows all over the road.

Size matters, so buses rule the road. Many buses are privately owned so race well over the speed limit, looking for fares. Cars and scooters get pushed off the road and bicyclists must have a suicide wish. It’s a free-for-all; they cut each other off and come within inches of hitting you.

With all the chaos you would think there would be fist fights in the intersections. But no; no road rage, no dirty looks, just quick beeps of the horn.

2. Good food; The cuisine is fresh, with lots of Indian influenced tapas-like small plates.

Breakfast

Breakfast

The most prevalent dish is curry. Every meal has curry, even for breakfast; Curry of every type: lentil, coconut, fruit. All spicy but not blazing hot.

The Sri Lankan fruit was amazing; pineapple, mango, papaya and odd shaped tiny bananas. I was eating it with both hands whenever fruit appeared on the table.

bananas

.

3. Both Sri Lankans and Indians do the ‘head bobble’. This is when they tilt their head quickly from side to side and it can mean several things. I deciphered a few:

A) “Ok, but I’m not happy about it”. For example, when we told the women at the hotel that we had a change of plans and could only stay one night, not two, she gave us a big, slow, silent bobble, and then she said “ok.”

B) “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I got this one a lot. This is usually a continually rolling bobble, followed with a blank stare.
C) Most of the time, the head bobble means something between “Maybe” and “Whatever”.

I have quickly adopted the head bobble; It comes naturally to me. I have bobbled a few times even after I returned to the states. I hope it sticks.

Gale, Sri Lanka.

Galle, Sri Lanka.

.

.

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , | Leave a comment

Travel karma

We were taking the long overnight train from Bagan to Yangon, Myanmar. We booked the tickets weeks before for one of the old beat-up British sleeper cars with four sleeper berths. The conductor opened the door, and an English couple were already inside, and he said, “actually we booked all four spots in this car”. The conductor looked at all our tickets, the carriage had been double-booked. The Englishman said again, “We booked all four spots, so sorry”. Clearly there were only 2 of them; We both gave him a look; that’s not going to happen. I thought to myself what a #!?! Was he just going to leave fellow travelers on the platform when they had two spots open? Luckily, before it all kicked off, the conductor looked at his clip-board, and motioned us to the next car that had beds available.

Sleeper car

Sleeper car

We settled in and a nice kid from Singapore joined us and we chatted about our travels around Myanmar. Later, we were all ready to try and get some sleep, when the train made a stop. I stuck my head out the window and noticed two young local men get into the carriage of our friends next door, the door shut and the train immediately departed. Looks like the young English couple was going to have some company for the evening after all. There was no way to leave the car once the train was moving and there wasn’t another stop until mid-morning.

When the train finally arrived in Yangon, as we passed their carriage, I slowed and took a peek in. The carriage looked well-worn and the women was still packing, looking disheveled and exhausted. She saw me out the window and I gave her a big smile; travel karma got you!

Sunset on the train. Good karma

Sunset on the train. Good karma

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , , | 1 Comment

Crazy train

The rail system in Myanmar was built by British in the late 1940s and has fallen into disrepair over the decades. It is notoriously slow, always late and an extremely rough ride. We were taking the overnight train from Bagen to Yangon, a seventeen hour ride through the jungles of Burma.

We climbed aboard and were joined by a 20-something kid from Singapore. Together we checked out our home for the night; The 50-year old ‘upper-class’ sleeper carriage had four seats underneath a sleeping shelf on each side. With a fight, the seats could be turned into a bed. It had a bathroom with a sink with no water and when you opened up the toilet lid there was just a hole through the floor to the tracks below. We opened the windows wide, were pleasantly surprised when the ceiling fan worked; the train seemed relatively comfortable for being a rolling antique.

Comfy.Comfy.

At the station, we had loaded up on the essentials; water, snacks and beer. We got out the books, camera and sustenance out and settled in for the long trip.

..

The train slowly groaned to a start, bumping along the track. It certainly was not a bullet train, we were traveling at about 25 mph. Looking out the window we saw small farms with grass and mud-brick homes. Small kids would stand by the tracks and wave as we passed. We didn’t see a car or paved road for hours.

Sleeping shelf Sleeping shelf

We tried to sleep on the upper bunks; basically enlarged luggage racks. Every time I drifted off, I was jolted awake by what sounded like someone banging on the floor with a sledgehammer. During the night you’d be woken by the train alarmingly rocking and rolling from side to side; it was like sleeping through a massive earthquake. You were bounced inches in the air off the bed, slammed into the wall and then almost thrown right off. I resorted to sleeping on my stomach, arms and legs outstretched, like a starfish.

We arrived at Yangon almost two hours late. We were tired and dazed, but OK considering we had just been trapped in an over-sized washing machine for nineteen hours. Then we stepped off the train into 106 degree heat.

..
Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Faux pas

.

.

We tried our hardest to be respectful and observe the numerous rules of the Buddhist pagodas and religious sites of Myanmar. We did well; most of the time.

It’s a lot to remember; when seated on the floor of a temple, you shouldn’t point your feet at a Buddha statue, or have your photo taken with your back to Buddha, and be properly covered up, shoulders and knees.

.

Shweyattaw Buddha.

In addition, at all the temples you have to remove your shoes and socks. The locals all wear sandals and so the idea of socks is just odd to them. Before they enter, they just kick off their sandals.

After the sunset at the magnificent Sutuangpyei Temple atop Mandalay Hill, we took the long way down the stairs, past small shrines and Buddha statues. We started off in sandals but quickly heard calls of “no shoes” from the locals. Usually it was a shoe-free area only in the temples, but this was a sacred path. We quickly kicked them off and walked down the hundreds of stairs at twilight.

Pagoda

Sutuangpyei temple.

At some of the big pagodas, there are cubbies and benches for foreign visitors. Everyone would sit down, take off their shoes and socks and then line up to check them in for 50 cents. I was doing this too at the start; what a pain. By the end of the day I had already switched to my flip flops and was kicking them into the pile of sandals like a local.

Buddha

Mahamuni Buddha temple.

Our feet quickly toughened up to the blazing hot tiles, gravel and debris in the temples. Once in Bagan, we were walking through a dark corridor and under our feet there was a slight squish. I heard fluttering above us and saw bats flying. Yup, we were walking barefoot through bat guano. We consoled ourselves with the thought that people in LA probably pay hundreds of dollars for a bat guano pedicure treatment.

At the end of the day we would arrive back at the hotel and our feet would be absolutely filthy.

.

.

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ming gah la ba

Ming gah la ba

Ming gah la ba

When we travel to foreign countries, we try to learn at least a few words of the local dialect. It breaks the ice, people laugh at our pronunciation and generally appreciate it, (except the French). This is tricky for me, I can barely speak English half the time.

In Myanmar we have learned a few helpful words, including ‘hello’: Ming gah la ba! and ‘thank-you’:jay zu ba. It was fun walking down the street and people would stare at us like we were from Mars. Then we would bust out an exuberant, “Ming gah la ba.” They would look back, wide-eyed and visibly stunned, before breaking into a large grin and replying in a sing-songy way, Ming gah la ba.

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Myanmar

.

.

“This is Burma and it is unlike any land you know about”

– Rudyard Kipling

It didn’t take long for us to realize that Myanmar is from a different time and dimension. After decades cut off from the rest of the world by oppressive military juntas, it has finally opened up. We visited Cuba in 2008 and hoped that Myanmar would be the Cuba of Asia. It was as advertised and we were not disappointed.

.

.

We landed at the desolate airport an hour outside Mandalay and caught a cab to town. A bumpy asphalt road, then a dirt road, past ox carts, grass huts and large open air markets; this is the main road to the city.

Shwedagon Pagoda

Shwedagon Pagoda

The countryside is littered with Buddhist temples; Pagodas. Some new, some thousands of years old. Some shiny, some in ruins. Some massive, high on mountain-tops, some tiny in village squares. They all had a statue of Buddha in some form and condition, some had armies of Buddha statues. We must have visited over a hundred and they were all unique in their own way.

.

.

Buddhist Monks are revered by the people and are the spiritual foundation of society. Barefoot in dark crimson robes, they are everywhere. In the Pagodas, on scooters on their smart phones. They start their studies at a young age and we would often see groups of five and six year-old-monks running around.

Mini monks

Mini-monks

The women and children wear a white paste on their face made from thanaka tree bark, It’s used to protect them from the sun and form of make-up. The men and boys walk with their arms on each other’s shoulders. A shy yet friendly people.

.

.

Burmese are not used to seeing Westerners. Women and children stop and stare as we passed and snap pictures of Helen’s blonde hair when she isn’t looking. They sheepishly approach and gesture to have a picture taken with us. We nod and the floodgates open; they line up! The children have no idea what to make of us, they nervously look at us as photos are taken. After, they look at the pictures screeching and laughing.

.

.

Kipling was right; Myanmar is a place like no other I have seen. A magical place yet unspoiled by the outside world and bus-loads of tourists. The infra-structure is terrible, the poverty is evident, the people lovely. Hopefully as the new government takes it’s place, the peaceful transition to democracy continues for the people of Myanmar.

Balloons over Began at sunrise

Balloons over Bagan at sunrise

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Checking in at the Hanoi Hilton

For a pacifist, I have a strange fascination with military history; always have. I have read numerous books on The Vietnam War and have already visited numerous sites on our trip to Vietnam. My favorite part is seeing the government’s spin and propaganda on the war. I went to one Museum that was propaganda-free; boring. However, that was not the case at the Hanoi Hilton, the propaganda was over the top. It was basically the complete opposite of everything I have read about the conditions and treatment of US prisoners held there.

The Hanoi Hilton

The Hanoi Hilton

The Hanoi Hilton was a sarcastic name given by US pilots to this infamous prison during the war. American pilots shot down were held here, including senator John McCain. It is now a museum; the first part is dedicated to the brutal treatment the Vietnamese suffered under French rule after World War 2. The second part is dedicated to The American War and how well the US prisoners were treated.

Pictures of of pilots gardening, playing basketball, and raising chickens in the prison yard. Pictures of them playing chess, billiards and hanging out, laughing in a large communal dorm room. Displays of items the prisoners had while incarcerated: Winston cigarettes, Vicks cough drops, hand-held fans, winter and summer clothing. They did not show the solitary confinement cells that pilots were held in.

Vietnamese propaganda poster from the war

Vietnamese propaganda poster from the war

Photos of pilots receiving medical care in a hospital, and a list of rules for prisoners including how they had to inform guards in the morning if they didn’t feel well, so they can get immediate treatment. John McCain did not receive any care for days for his serious injuries after being shot down; not until the Vietnamese found out his father was a four star admiral and McCain could be use for propaganda purposes.

.

.

A video showed pilots released after the war, before returning home receiving souvenirs from officials. They looked confused as they accepted these gifts for their time in prison. I chuckled out loud at this, people looked at me like I was crazy. The video did not show the forced confessions of the pilots or how after being shot down the pilots were marched through the streets of Hanoi, being abused by people that lined the streets.

I realize that I have been subjected to my own government’s spin on the war and I have tried to keep a open mind. I also know that North Vietnamese prisoners were treated brutally by both Americans and the South Vietnamese army. Cutting through the propaganda of both countries and coming to the truth is difficult, but one thing is for certain, it was a dirty and ugly war and atrocities were committed by both sides.

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

Ho Chi Minh

We arrive in Hanoi by train at 5am. Cab to the hotel, hotel lobby dark, hotel door locked. We bang on the door and wake up the staff sleeping on the lobby couch.

Our room won’t be ready until noon, so we drop our bags and head to Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum, as the sun rises.

.

.

Ho Chi Minh is revered by the Vietnamese for unifying the country and fighting for the people against all invaders. He fought the Japanese, the French, the Americans and died just before his country was finally unified. Affectionately known as Bac (uncle) Ho, the Vietnamese make pilgrimages to pay their respects to his embalmed body laying in state.

Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum

Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum

We arrive as the flag ceremony is underway. Soldiers march around and the flag is raised as the national anthem is played over loud speakers. We are the only westerners I see. A large group of Vietnamese have gathered for the ceremony, many dressed in their finest clothing. Some wear the colorful knit hats of the villages in the northern hills. Many of the men wear military uniforms from The American War (what Americans call The Vietnam War), with metals hanging from their breasts.

Vietnamese in their finest

Vietnamese in their finest

After the ceremony was over, people mill about waiting for the mausoleum to open. The villagers stare at us and I stare back at them, intrigued with the men in uniform.

The woman were fixated on Helen and her blonde hair. One of the woman finally got up the courage to approach us and gestures to see if she could have a picture with us. We nod yes, and it was on. All the women rush over to have their photos taken with us, beaming and laughing. They have Helen by the arm dragging her from group to group. To say Helen was not feeling well is an understatement; it had been a long train trip the night before, but she was a good sport about it, although a little overwhelmed.

.

.

It wasn’t long before a man in uniform and helmet approaches me, smiling, with hand outstretched. We shake hands as his buddies snap photos. Soon a group of his fellow veterans come over and I put my arms around their shoulders as their families snap away, laughing the whole time. How interesting to have my photo taken with these veterans, 40 years after our countries’ brutal war, in front of Ho Chi Minh’s final resting spot.

My new friend

My new friend

In Ho Chi Minh’s will, he requested to be cremated and his ashes placed on mountains in south, central, and northern Vietnam as a symbol of his life-long dream to unify Vietnam. But his will was not honored after his death. The new government instead went with the Lenin/Mao approach; they embalmed him and put him on display for the masses in a massive Greek-styled mausoleum.

We line up for a hour, go through numerous security checkpoints before we finally enter the mausoleum. No one speaks a word as we shuffle round the glass enclosure in which Ho Chi Minh lays. A shroud covers his body with only his face visible; His skin and his wispy beard are an unnatural color.

Ho Chi Minh is a controversial figure in history. He was reviled by Americans but is adored by the Vietnamese. One man’s revolutionary is another man’s freedom fighter. One thing is for sure, this country has come a long way since those dark days.

The Vietnamese look forward, not backwards, and old foes are now friends.

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Vietnam overnight train

.

.

We were on the overnight train to Hanoi in a sleeper car with four bunks. We had the bottom two beds and drifted off to sleep before anyone joined us. In the middle of the night, the door opened and a couple walked in. I was out of it; I barely opened my eyes and saw a blurry vision of a young woman staring down at me. Only her eyes were visible; She wore a hat and a colorful face mask over her mouth and nose; A bizarre sight in the middle of the night. Almost all Vietnamese women wear these masks for the pollution and to keep the sun off their faces. Opposite to western views of beauty, in Vietnamese culture it is desirable for women to have pale, white skin.

She was freaking me out, at one point she sat down on the foot of my bed, still staring down at me; was I dreaming? Luckily, her husband returned with the conductor, they had the wrong room and they hurried off. Moments later, another young couple with a baby entered. She quickly tossed the baby on the bunk above me and scrambled up after with ease. The husband jumped on the bed above Helen, and despite a few loud cries from the baby, I quickly fell back asleep.

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

King and Queen for a night

When Helen said, “I booked us in for a royal dinner at the hotel in Hue, not really sure what it is, but it looks a little crazy”, I was a little worried. When checking in to the hotel and they said, “For the royal dinner, come down fifteen minutes early to get dressed.” I knew it was going to be a little strange.

Procession, not the best choice of shoes

Procession, not the best choice of shoes

We walked into the dressing room and they had robes and huge hats ready for us, “you’re going to be king and queen.” We looked at each other, eyebrows raised, and smiled. We put on our royal outfits and were led through the lobby and dining room behind two flag bearers and drummers banging away. We entered a large room all decked out and were seated at the head table in front of a group of musicians. We ordered drinks as fast as possible, and the seven course dinner began as the band played traditional songs.

The band

The band

We ate, trying not laugh, as course after course arrived. It was excellent Vietnamese cuisine, but way too much. The band wrapped up as we tried to finish dessert. My goofy hat kept sliding over my eyes, I couldn’t wait to take it off.

King and Queen

King and Queen

I knew I was in for something odd, but it was actually great fun and great food. King for a night was all I needed.

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , , , | 1 Comment

Blog at WordPress.com.