Travel Diaries
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Recounting of voyages from afar.
California
Herein some of my wanderings in and around the very large and beautiful foreign land known as California, this colonized/occupied territory, formerly or currently lived in by many indigenous people/tribes/nations whose spirit, ancestors, and deep love and respect for this land are palpable. How else could it be?
India
The adventurous trip within the vast country of India has left me with a profound feeling of respect for the many experience that I encountered during my times within this varied and culturally rich part of the world. Because of the myriad of different encounters, lessons and insight that I have gained from this journey, I have broken this section of the website into a series of jump-links which can be accessed from the navigation pane to the right. I hope that you enjoy reading this selection of my reflections upon the India and it’s subsections.
Africa
I think of myself as being on a “spiritual” path, on a spiritual quest, that experiencing spirit wisdom and sacred wisdom, whatever they turn out to be, if noting more than a greater attuning of my sensory instruments to feel the vibration of the others’ sensory instruments, the other hearts beating, the other molecules spinning in ritual dance. But let us move on.
Vietnam
Various views and visions from Vietnam
Vietnam 2
https://youtu.be/azxnc1nDkos
Ho Chi Minh City and the Mekong
December 7, 2013
I leave San Francisco late on a Sunday night and arrive in Saigon/HCMC on early Tuesday morning, having “lost” an entire day – the plane flying westward ahead of the rising sun on the eastwardly rotating Earth never out of darkness. Air time twenty-one hours.
HCMC was originally swampland inhabited by Khmer people for centuries before the arrival of the Vietnamese. It reminds me of Bangkok, only smoggier if that is possible, and with more motorcycles. I have a room in the backpackers’ section of town and take certain odd pleasure in saying I’m sleeping in an alley, which I am. On New Year’s Eve I go out into a crush of people and motorcycles that would make Times Square proud. And although it is mostly young people drinking beer and being loud, I do manage a few touching encounters, including the only young person to greet me directly – a quite beautiful woman in short shorts and bright red high heels with a tiger tattoo on her ankle who intentionally walks over to where I am seated at an outdoor restaurant, perhaps conspicuously alone, clinks her beer bottle with mine – no she was definitely not soliciting me – and says, “Happy New Year, uncle.” And a much older man – standing at the entrance to “my” alley as I walk back to my guesthouse – who raises both his hands at about shoulder height with his palms open and reaches out to me as I approach him, grasps both of my hands which have come up to meet his, and holding our palms together and fingers entwined raises our hands high, looks me in the eye, and says, “Healthy New Year, sir.” I am touched. I bow. I walk up five flights of stairs. I sleep well.
I spend my first full day in the city walking around seeing the sights and being exploited by street vendors whenever they can, paying too much for a short rickshaw ride, a cold coconut drink, and a man who gives me directions, but chased half way down the block by a bakery shop employee who I have mistakenly given a 200,000 dong note to (approximately 10$), instead of the 20,000 dong note I meant to give for what my pastry cost. The large numbers of zeros are confusing to me. One million dong equals 50$ and the Vietnamese joke they are all millionaires. One dollar is over 20,000 dong. There are 10 million people in Ho Chi Minh City. There are seven million scooters and motorcycles. The museums that attract the most visitors are the War Museum and the Museum of National Reconciliation, not much to see at either venue, but clearly a source of immense pride for the Vietnamese. Red flags with golden stars or hammers and sickles are everywhere.
On day two I pay less than 10$ for an all day bus tour to the famous Cao Dai Buddhist temple and monastery in Tay Minh, about three hours out of HCMC, and a visit on the way back to the famous Chu Chi tunnels, where Viet Cong sympathizers and villagers dug 200 miles of very narrow three and four meter deep passageways beneath the claylike earth to take refuge and hide as American B-52 bombers dropped their deadly payloads and American troops roamed above the underground villagers with heavy armor and tanks. It is the second set of defensive tunnels I have crawled through on my hands and knees in less than twelve months, the first being last January, 1,000 meters up Mt. Kilimanjaro, where the Chagga people sought to protect themselves from the Masai raiders and I wrote about in my Africa travels blog.
Next day – for again for less than 10$ – I take an all day tour to yet another Buddhist temple and monastery – and then an afternoon series of boat rides on the Mekong. The Mekong is really quite remarkable … and immense … running over 2700 miles from its origins in Tibet and forming part of the international border between Myanmar and Laos and Thailand and Laos before emptying – at places over 2 miles wide – into the South China Sea. (Vientiane, the capital city of Laos, and Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, sit on its banks.) Of Vietnam’s 90 million people more than one fifth live in the delta southwest of Ho Chi Minh City, yet the villages I see seem sparsely populated.
I love the way the people here have made the river their home. There are fish being fattened in cages descending twenty feet beneath the floor of floating homes, where 1,000s of tiny tilapia and catfish are raised from when they weigh less than an ounce to when they have been fed and grown to a full kilometer in weight – twenty-five tons of fish at some family farms concentrated in a big net ready for sale and slaughter to factory ships that come to the farmer’s door.
Islands dot the river, thousands of islands, almost all inhabited, every inch utilized, farmed, irrigated. One particularly compelling sight for me on the delta islands is the omnipresent pamelos growing on trees where the fruits have been draped with small white cotton sheeting to protect them from insects and look like little ghosts hanging from the tree branches, a bit like Halloween decorations in the states.
It is while looking at these tiny ghosts that I feel very intensely the energy of the Americans who perished here decades ago for nothing more than a corporation’s profit, a general’s ego, and an imperialist’s paranoia about the third world … and a sudden sadness overwhelms me, a grief heavier than mere recognition or acknowledgement, something resonant at an energetic and cellular level as I wander away from my group to sit quietly among bee hives and smoke.
Thailand
I try my hands at traveling the lands of Thailand
When can I go back?
I had the strangest feeling walking back to my hotel after playing basketball my last night in Chiang Mai. I felt like I was home. I knew where I was; I knew the street I was walking on, where to go, and how to get there. I knew people, had friends, had a regular pick up basketball game, and had plans for later that night. It reminded me of summer nights in Boston, walking home from the basketball courts in Brookline after a long afternoon of ball, legs tired, completely exhausted, sticky with sweat, feeling great. I was only in Chiang Mai for five days, but I already miss it and what to go back soon. I made some great friends while I was there, had some fun nights out, and of course, ate great food.
My last night playing basketball at the courts in Chiang Mai I officially cemented my name in the history books of Chiang Mai street ball. In previous nights I played good enough, dominated somewhat, but I never really played all out. I was trying to figure out the style of play and get other players on my team involved. I won some games, but never got a real win streak going, and watched the best Thai players (one of whom played for the National team and others who played in a Thai pro or semi-pro league) stack their team, beat me, and run the court. Not tonight. I knew it was my last time playing on these courts for a while and I came on a mission – destroy the competition and beat the top Thai squad.
I was one of the first players on the court this night. After a short, playful game of two on two (which helped me get loose and get a rhythm) we started the five on five games. The best Thai players made their five (probably the five best players besides me who all could play well and would rarely miss open shots), and put me on a team of four of the weakest players on the court. A loveable group of misfits who could hardly dribble a ball (ok, I’m exaggerating a little bit here), but I knew they had heart. I came out swinging. After every defensive rebound I grabbed I sped up the court and took it strong to the hoop. I went up for every offensive rebound. I demanded the ball in the post on every play. The opposing team double and triple teamed me shouting “Felang” (Foreigner in Thai, what they call most white people) on every play, but I was not going to be stopped tonight. We ended up winning the game 15-13 in front of a solid crowd of other players and older adults that had stopped by to watch the game (It was CMU’s graduation that weekend and some parents were hanging out in the bleachers at the court). I went on to win three more games that night and left the courts of Chiang Mai that night the way I had hoped.
I had a conversation with one of the best Thai players (he played for Chiang Mai in a city league) before I left. He asked me (being completely serious), “How come you don’t play in the NBA?” I laughed out loud. He said, “I think you play very well.” I spend the next 10 minutes explaining to him, his girlfriend, and his friend that the players in the NBA were “MUCH MUCH MUCH MUCH MUCH better than me.” I told him that I played division three basketball and that there were two divisions above me, and that only the top players from the top division made the NBA. They were shocked to hear this information. Side note: I had a similar experience tonight in Laung Prabang, Laos, a place where I really never imagined I’d find a pick up game, but some how stumbled upon another great nightly game. I told one of the guys at the court that the Celtics were my favorite NBA team and he thought I was on the Celtics and got very excited. I think people in Asia have a somewhat misunderstanding of how good you have to be and what it takes to make the NBA. At another basketball event I was at, with some of the best college players in China, who were good, but definitely not near NBA or D.1 level, their chaperones (more lack of a better term) were seriously inquiring with my friend who organized the event if their players had a chance to make the nba. Anyways, I digress. I said goodbye to my first basketball friend from the courts in Chiang Mai, T, who told me whenever I am in Chiang Mai I am welcome to play at these courts (T was kind of the OG of the courts).
While interacting with people at the basketball courts that week, I met a fellow American from New Hampshire named B. Through our conversations, we realized we had a mutual friend that he went to college with and I was very close with in high school. B just moved here from Bangkok and is a professional poker player. He makes enough money to live comfortably in Thailand, plays basketball almost every night, travels and parties. I am super jealous of his lifestyle. B and I went out one night in Chiang Mai and had a blast. We went to a club called “Fabric.” The atmosphere inside was electric. There was one main room packed with Thai people dancing, drinking at tables, and a dj playing great techno/house (I don’t know what they call it these days) music. For 300 baht (10 dollars US) you got entrance to the club and they gave you a card worth 300 baht towards drinks at the bar (basically no cover). B, his friend Lee, and I combine our three cards and got a table near the main stage (there was a Thai band playing before the DJ came one), and a bottle of good Vodka. Side note: we were the only people not drinking Johnnie Walker red or black label whiskey. Thai people (and maybe all people in southeast Asia because I’ve seen a lot in Laos) LOVE whiskey. It’s all I’ve seen them drink and it seemed like it was the only thing to drink at the bar. Anyways, back to the club… Let me repeat this, three people got entrance to a great club, a table, and bottle service for 30 BUCKS!!!! See why I love this place? A similar experience in the USA (I’m estimating because I’ve never had the money to do so) would cost north of 500 dollars. Aside from the main room (which was packed with beautiful Thai women), there were 3 or 4 other rooms, each of which were playing a different type of music, and each of which had a different physical set up and vibe. There was also an enormous out door area with a huge bar, tables, fireplaces, large sofa chairs, and palm trees.
In the end Chiang Mai was one of the most fun places I’ve traveled to in my life. Everyone that lives there, Thai or not, is incredibly friendly and generous. The city has a great spirit to it that is incredibly attractive. I want to say thanks to B, T, Q, Baz, Mac, Lee, Som (there not much for long names in Chiang Mai), and everyone else I met in Chiang Mai and made my experience there a great one. I hope to see you all again soon.
-Sam
In Thailand
At Doi Suthep Temple
At Doi Suthep Temple
January 22, 2011
In Thailand
Chiang Mai
January 22, 2011
After a 14-hour train ride from Bangkok, my dad and I have settled in Chiang Mai (a city in northern Thailand). Other than the fact that the AC was BLASTING in our train car, I had one of the longest sleeps I’ve had on our trip. Just being in Chiang Mai for a short period of time I could already tell that Chiang Mai was going to be a more enjoyable experience than Bangkok. The streets are less jammed with cars, motorcycles, street vendors, and hookers. You still see that here in Chiang Mai, but it’s much less, much less thrown in your face.
Via a Google search: “basketball in Chiang mai”, I found a great game of pick up b-ball, outdoors, at Chiang Mai University. 20-30 players gather every single night of the week from 6-8 or 9. I still don’t understand how teams are selected or all of the rules they play with, but everyone has been very welcoming and I’ve always found my way onto a team (I’m sure being the tallest person helps) every night. The other players are very excited to see me play. When I get an offensive rebound, throw down a dunk, or make any kind of decent play they cheer wildly. Not only for me though, at no other pick up basketball game have I seen people who are waiting to play, cheer or clap when a player on the court makes a nice play or move. It’s awesome. It’s a lot different than pick up b-ball back home. Some parts I like more, some parts less, but its always fun.
Like all of Thailand I’ve experienced, the food is great. Favorite breakfast meal: Fried rice with a fried egg on top and fresh fruit (watermelon, mangos, bananas, and pineapple). Favorite lunch food still goes to roadside noodle stands. Favorite dinner: “Deep Fried White Snapper”. Essentially a whole snapper filleted a certain way so that when its served you can just pick the meat off the fish, dip it in sauce and enjoy. There is no batter on the fish; it is light, and crunchy. I had this dish at a trendy (aka a lot of young people/CMU students eating there) restaurant/bar called “Neighborhood”. Favorite dessert: “Rotee” with egg and bananas. Basically a crepe filled with a scrambled egg and sliced bananas, folded over, lightly fried, and topped with sugar and chocolate sauce; tastes like the best French toast you’ve ever had. We had been eating mainly in the section of town near our hotel (a very touristy area), but on a taxi ride home from the b-ball courts I noticed a section of town near the university that had a lot of restaurants packed with Thai people (always a good sign).
I think when traveling it’s easy to get comfortable in the area your hotel is, where there are some people traveling like you. The food and people you interact with are good, but there is more out there to discover. Last night my dad and I returned to that area of town and found an outdoor shabu restaurant where people were boiling and grilling their own food. We sat down and realized everything on the menu was in thai and we could hardly communicate with our waiter. Regardless, a Thai man who was also at the restaurant and spoke a little English helped us order. We ended up having a great meal and met some very interesting people. Throughout our travels I’ve found that your most pleasant experiences come without an agenda, when you just go out and explore the place you are in and let the rest come to you.
Just a quick note on some culture things I’ve noticed in Chiang Mai. One, I think the bowl cut is coming back as an acceptable hair style for men in Chiang Mai. I saw a couple of good looking college-aged Thai men with bowl type hair cuts and beautiful Thai women under their arms so I might have a different look to me when I get back. Also, boy bands are very much alive in Chiang Mai (maybe all of Thailand). We have a TV in our hotel and I’ve been able to watch local TV for the first time on my trip. There are a lot of Thai back street boy bands that seem to be pretty popular around here. I don’t know if I could ever get into the music scene in Thailand. I got a ride home from a couple of the guys I play basketball with last night (another example of how friendly and welcoming the people I’ve met are) and the music they were playing was awful. I couldn’t understand a single word, but it just sounded like bad 90s pop music. Maybe Thailand is just a little benhind on certain cultural thing (understandable).
My dad and I had an incredible day touring Chiang Mai yesterday. We traveled with our driver and tour guide “Lucky”, a very sweet and soft-spoken Thai woman. She took us to the most beautiful temple I’ve seen in Thailand. It sits at the top of a hill outside of the city. You have to climb over 300 steps to make it to the top, but once you get there its quite a scene. Not only tourist visit (although a good amount do), but also local Thai people come to worship. I’m not very familiar with Buddhist practices, but the spiritual experience was very powerful. Next we traveled to a “long neck hill tribe village”. This experience was not as pleasant. You basically walk around a tribal village that has been organized pretty conveniently to make it easy for you to see everything as if it was a museum. And that’s what it is essentially, a human zoo. Only tourists visit here, every hut has the some items for sale that the villagers beg you to buy. One foreigner walks around with a bag of soda and candy giving it out to the village kids so their teeth can rot even more. It’s definitely not authentic, and made me very uncomfortable. Regardless, the few villagers I interacted with were very kind. Our last stop was to the “Tiger Kingdom”, a tiger zoo where they let you into the cages with a trainer and allow you to interact and take pictures with the tigers. The trainers say that tigers sleep 16 hours a day which explained some of their lackadaisical behavior, however, there were times when I was suspicious if these tigers were either very well trained or drugged up. They claim that the tigers have been given no drugs, just very well trained and well fed so I guess I’ll have to trust that. Either way I don’t think there is any other place in the world where they will let you snuggle with a 270 lbs beast, an experience I will never forget.
All in all our time in Chiang Mai has been very enjoyable. It’s a laid back place with kind people. There’s great food, basketball every night, and the sun is shining. I’m easy to please. I was invited by a number of the players at the court to play in a citywide tournament on Feb 1st (the day I’m suppose to return to Boston). Maybe I’ll stay a bit longer…I’m not ready for the snow yet.
Australia
Stories from Australia
I leave Jakarta as fast and far behind as I can, flying to Perth in Western Australia, where I spend the night at a real hotel, eat in a real restaurant, drink water from the tap, talk easily with folks who speak almost comprehensible English, and catch an early bus the next day for the six hour ride to Mount Barker, in the Porongurups, and a short but important rendezvous with Joy, her son Loren, and Joy’s brother Clyde who have spent the prior week together at the family retreat working and reworking a huge deck and porch they have designed to expand two full sides of the house they built with Joy and Clyde’s father before he died in a horrible car crash on these very roads just days before Loren was born in 1986.
I am wearing my US Boat to Gaza T-shirt under an open throated button shirt as I get to the bus station in Perth such that only the last three letters of the word “Boat” show, and when I look in the mirror at the station what I see resting above my heart is the word “tao,” the path, and I feel reinforced by this guidance, that I am on the great path, as it must be, and as we each and all are, the great Dharma unfolding and revealed with every footfall.
The time in Australia feels like a transitional interlude on the symphonic pathway of this particular voyage. It is a long hike for just a few days to a place I have been before, but the meaning of my presence to Joy and her kin far exceed the “travel value” of my time there, visiting the resting places of Joy’s parent’s ashes and the home she physically built with her family, particularly her father, to share in and experience the energy that adheres to Cuming clan sacred ground, as I did in Scotland, and to be present for and with Joy on her 58th birthday celebration in Perth amongst friends from her life when Joy was fourteen and her family moved here through the early years of Loren’s life as an infant and child before the Cape called them back to the U.S. I marvel at Joy’s, Clyde’s, and Loren’s energy, skill, and devotion, as they work (exceedingly hard) together. I serve as camp cook and dishwasher, a role I relish before we return to Perth to stay with Sarah and Bruce Campbell who share their home and interests with great grace, to a party for Joy hosted by Clyde, Sue, and their gifted son Darby, and to all too brief a time with Dawn Meader who guides us to Bali – visit her website – where less than 72 hours after leaving Jakarta – most of that time seated in planes, buses, and automobiles – Joy and I arrive amidst the mountains, rice terraces, and lovely souls of Sideman.