Beijing - The Forbidden City

        The next day I spent playing tourist in Beijing. The first order of business was to the Forbidden City. Alas, I would not make it to the Great Wall on this trip to China, but I will be back so fret not. If anyone has seen a picture of the forbidden city recently, or the front gate at least, a massive, massive picture of Mao hangs over the main entrance. The Forbidden City is huge, it is incomprehensibly large, imposing, and impressive. The gates just to enter the city are about as long as the ship I'm currently on is wide. The press of people is also staggering. Now, being 6' 3ish in an Asian country is interesting. Generally speaking I'm a solid head, if not more, taller than anyone else. Being in a crowd of people and looking our over the mass and swarm of heads and people, which I am also caught up in, is astounding.

        Tangents aside, the sheer impressiveness of the Forbidden City is matched by the Chinese. While I was walking its halls and courtyards, the Chinese military was running drills or rather parading around the area. Much as movies suggest a tightly organized, choreographed unit moving in a single motion, the Chinese military was doing the same in the area. I'm sure this is simply a display for the people of Beijing and the tourists alike, but its still impressive.

        Finally, as a testament between American Individualist society and Chinese Collectivist society, I would compare the line to leave the Forbidden City. It so happened that right when I was planning on leaving, the flag raising ceremony was taking place in Tiananmen Square. This ceremony happens every day at dawn and sunset. They raise, and remove the Chinese flag. While this is taking place no one is allowed to leave or enter the Forbidden City. A mass of several hundred people were waiting at the open gate to leave. And when I say waiting, they were waiting patiently. No one was pushing or shoving, no one was harassing the two lone guards, no one was trying to jump the minimal restraints holding them back.

        I could only imagine a similar scene in the United States, the people would be belligerently demanding to be let out. Most like yelling at the guards, or possibly just ignoring them and leaving of their own behalf. To me it was a stark distinction between our societies. The Chinese were content to wait without any particular reason or demand. I can't imagine a similarly large group of Americans patiently waiting to leave - especially given the circumstances.

Observations about China

        At this point I think I've bored you all enough with my rambles about China. I only want to leave you with a few observations I've made while I was in the country. First, I am so used to this perception we have in the United States that China is taking over. We have to do x y and z to stop China. I think, quite reasonably, that we as the only Super Power (I use that term loosely) in the world at the moment feel threatened by the Chinese. However, I think this is absolutely the wrong stance to take.

        The Chinese do not view us as enemies in any way, shape, or form, but rather as someone who they can learn from. Nor do the Chinese view us as a power and a people to overtake, but as someone to coexist with. We should not be in a power struggle with the Chinese, but rather look to them to see how we can raise each other up. What can we learn from the Chinese that would improve our own culture? What can we do to help each other become better? I think these are far more important and legitimate questions to be asking.

Chopsticks in Shanghai

        For those of you who have never seen me eat with chopsticks, I am perfectly capable of using them. However, I have what I suppose are the equivalent of terrible manners when it comes to their use. I hold them in a funny manner, and generally speaking don't use them correctly. I am also perfectly aware of this, and despite my best efforts to train myself in their proper use my muscle memory won't allow me too.

        My first day in Shanghai, I ventured out alone to walk around and get an experience of the city. I also wanted to find a place to eat lunch. I settled on this little hole in the wall place along one street which looked very good. They pulled out a translated menu, and I ordered. Soon enough the food was brought to the table, and I began eating. As soon as I began eating everyone working in the restaurant burst out laughing (I was their sole patron). Within a few seconds, I had several Chinese women attempting to teach me how to use chopsticks properly, much to my embarrassment. They showed me, they tried to positioning my hands, they did everything, but were unable to teach me how to do it properly.

        Ultimately, they tried to bring out a fork for me to use, but my poor bruised ego wouldn't allow it, and I ate the rest of my meal in my sloppy ill-formed manner.

Fuzi Mio and Nanjing

        In Nanjing I was staying with my friend, and freshman roommate Mike. Mike is also in a program in China, but not an immersion program. He lives in an apartment with several other students. I didn't get into Nanjing until fairly late at night, so not much happened the first day. The second day he had to tutor one of his students for a few hours, and sent me to a place called Fuzi Mio (I'm sure this is spelled wrong) where I could wander around and shop. We planned to meet back at his apartment at 4:00 later that afternoon.

        The market was interesting, although it was more like a shopping arcade along the river. A few shops, nothing too terribly interesting. It was worth spending a few hours though, and I enjoyed my time there. Knowing it would take me twenty, maybe thirty minutes to find a cab, I planned on leaving at about 3:30. In Nanjing it is incredibly difficult to hail a cab. Very often they will choose not to drive foreigners, and occasionally will decide not to take locals depending on where they were going.

        I began my hunt for a cab at 3:30. I ended my hunt for a cab at 6:00. It took me roughly two and a half hours to hail a cab and get him to drive me to Mike's apartment. The few cabs I did manage to flag down, or pull over looked at the place I wanted to go and promptly drove off. After wandering around several hours hoping to find a cab, I finally managed to stop one who was dropping some people off. When he refused to take me, I pulled a 100 Yuan note from my wallet and bribed him. The cab should have cost 20 Yuan at most. I finally arrived back to a concerned Mike, and a great story.

Westerns in China

        As I mentioned earlier, a lot of westerners, both European and American live in China. Predominantly they seem to be young kids like me, either studying abroad or living there and teaching English. In both places I visited (Beijing and Nanjing) I ran into various westerners. A surprisingly large number from Northern Europe. I've met people from Iceland, Norway, and Sweden. Of course a fair number of Americans, French, and English entered the mix as well.

        I have learned that you can teach English in China for ~150-200 Yuan and hour (~7 RMB – 1 USD exchange rate). Not half bad for under the table wage. I think this accounts for the number of people in the country. In addition, living expenses are virtually non-existent. It would be very easy to live on 5 dollars a day, including drinking and partying.

        I'm seriously considering doing it after I graduate. Somehow get to China, and figure it out from there. Despite the language gap, it was surprisingly easy to get around, and I've found the Chinese to be extremely helpful when they are capable.

Going Out in Beijing

       I'll attempt to keep my thoughts on going out brief in China. The vast majority of people who are out at bars and clubs in China are westerners living or visiting in China. Chinese culture is a drinking culture, however they drink with dinner, and view going out as a bad thing. The only people who go out are bad people. That being said, they take no issue with Westerners going out; they recognize our culture. The Chinese that do go out, I have found, are delightful either way. In one bar I was speaking with a young lady named Grace (I won't attempt to butcher her real name), who was simply out with her friends trying to have a good time. She didn't drink, or rather drank very little. She refused to drink a screw-driver which I ordered for her and her friends. Elaborating on the language barrier. Her spoken English is bad. We struggled to communicate. However, at one point I found pencil and paper, and we started writing. Her sentence structure and grammatical proficiency was excellent. Over the course of or conversation, I only found one mistake. It was complex, accurate, and utilized a well developed vocabulary.

        Otherwise, the vast majority of people out in China are westerners of some sort. The bars reflect this attitude. I can honestly say that I played beer pong in China, in a bar, in a tournament, which I took no part in organizing. I visited a bar called Pyros which had beer pong tables and a tournament while I was there. Interesting nee?

Beijing - The Silk Market

        The silk market... The silk market is very similar to many of the other markets I've been to in various other countries. In this case it is an indoor market several floors high, with stalls selling various different things. Let me first give a little background to being tall, white, and with curly hair in an Asian country. To elaborate on the curly hair aspect, the son in the family I was staying with asked me if I liked the curly hair style. I had to explain to him that my hair is entirely natural; I use conditioner and shampoo solely. He was shocked to discover this, he assumed that I had treated my hair for my curls. In China, I don't think I saw anyone over six feet tall, and most people were much less than that. Finally, blue eyes stand out as well. I was also wearing a pair of ripped jeans (they had a hole in the knee) which is unheard of in China.

        With that in mind, allow me to continue. As is usual in the markets, everyone wants you to buy something. If not for yourself, for your girlfriend, brother, sister, father, whomever. My first little anecdote happened while I was walking by a stall selling jewelry or girls cloths or something. Of course they were calling me to buy something for “my girlfriend”. I responded by saying that I don't have a girlfriend. I was asked why; jokingly I responded by saying that I'm too ugly. To which the young lady who worked the booth said “I think this is so”. I don't think I've ever been called ugly before, but it was very humorous. Fortunately, for my poor bruised ego I was told how handsome I am by several of the other shop keepers.

        Onto the ripped jeans, as I mentioned before, I was probably the only person in the entire silk market who was wearing ripped jeans. Nearly every stall I walked by asked me if I was cold, or what had happened. In my ingenious plotting, I decided to tell everyone that my jeans were ripped because I'm poor and couldn't afford new jeans. Sometimes it worked sometimes it didn't. At one particular stall, a young woman called me in and told me she would fix the jeans for free for me. She was a tailor by trade and couldn't imagine someone with ripped jeans. She was genuinely serious as well. Alas, she couldn't find any needle and thread for me to fix them. None the less, this started us into a conversation. At one point she told I'd need to take them off, and due to the language barrier, I assumed she meant in the stall, and proceeded to do so. She immediately freaked out about how my girlfriend would kill her. I stopped immediately, and had myself a good chuckle at that, explaining that I don't have a girlfriend. I do believe she found me cute or something; she brightened at this revelation. That is until she discovered the copy of Vicky Christina Barcelona I had in my pocket. On the cover of the movie is a picture of two people kissing. This is apparently completely unacceptable, and she was appalled that I had it. She was not one of those kind of girls. I had gone from being a good boy, to a bad boy rather quickly.

        As I mentioned before, I was telling the various stall vendors I was poor and couldn't afford anything because of my ripped jeans. As I said, sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. It did, however, lead to the revelation that the Chinese have an excellent sense of humor. While I was walking by one stall, the young lady working there (nearly all the stalls were run by young women, probably my age) called me over. Upon discovering I was poor, she told me she was going to give me money and drug me into her stall. I didn't know what to do, obviously I couldn't accept money from this woman, but I couldn't exactly run away either. She digs into her pockets, and pulls out the equivalent of less then a cent in Chinese money. Then she bursts out laughing, as did her friend. I of course joined in their good humor.

I'll leave the silk market at that. A very fun, enjoyable experience.

Beijing - Dinner and Homestay in Beijing

        Austin lives with a Chinese family while he is in China. He is doing an immersion program at Peking University, and part of that program is living with a family. That night we went to his families house for dinner. When we arrived no one was home, he showed me around their apartment and and let me drop all my stuff off. Soon after the family arrives home. Neither the father nor the mother speak any English, but the son has been studying English for a while, and his skills are tentatively good (I'll explain more later). They graciously welcomed me into their home, and had us sit down for dinner. They had prepared a massive feast for us. They must have put out eleven or twelve different plates of food.

        I can honestly say I've had a variety of different, real Chinese food due to my friend Justin. Jong, which I am probably misspelling horribly, is one of my favorite foods. I challenge anyone to find it in the United States outside of China Town or around Chinese New Years. I didn't recognize anything they put before us save the dumplings. Everything was delicious, in particular I remember these deep fried carrot ball things, and a particular white sausage.

        In addition to dinner I spoke with the son for a while. To elaborate on his English skills, his verbal skills are definitely lacking. It is difficult for him to converse. However, his vocabulary is exceptional, I was showing him pictures from when I was in Africa on Safari, and he immediately named most of the animals I showed him, from elephants to penguins. I also gather that his written skills are exceptional as well. If my other experiences in China are to show, the Chinese study English for a long time. However, they rarely if ever have a chance to speak it. Thus, their written skills are highly developed, but they struggle to speak the language.

        After dinner we took several pictures with the family and they headed out to catch a train to Shanghai so the son could take a test to study in the Untied States next year.

Arriving in Beijing

        I was supposed to meet my friend Austin in Beijing near his school at roughly 4:30 in the afternoon. My flight arrived in Beijing at 3:00. I was supposed to take the subway. Due to some circumstances outside of my control, I entered China without any of their currency RMB or Yuan. I eventually found an ATM and proceeded to the subway station where I discovered the complete and utter lack of English skills throughout China. I asked the subway ticket agent how to get to the University stop, which was actually very easy to find. She looked at me with a completely blank stare. Fortunately, a man who spoke very little English overheard our conversation and figured out where I needed to go. He then proceeded to show me the entire way, or nearly. He essentially adopted me on the subway, made sure I followed him through the various stops, helped me buy my ticket (I was worried he was going to try and pay for me), and showed me the rest of the way to go. It was very kind of him and entirely unnecessary. The Beijing subway system is well laid out, easy to follow, and all in English (as well as Chinese of course).

        I finally arrived at my stop at about 5:30. Austin is nowhere to be found of course. Thankfully, I do have his cellphone number, which as far as I can tell is an American number (it starts with a 1 and is 11 digits long, 1 is the US country code for those of you that don't know). After unsuccessfully attempting to call on a pay phone using my credit card, I finally attempt asking the various Chinese people who are walking by if I might borrow their cell phone. The third one finally understands my hand gestures and allows me to use his phone. Austin picks me up soon after and I'm off.

Hong Kong

     As far as I can tell, Hong Kong is NYC on steroids with a ton of Chinese people in it. The luxury and wealth evident throughout the city is exceptional. The hostel I stayed in was between a Guess and a Marc Jacobs, Gucci was across the street. Mix in a few electronics stores, 7-11s, and random little restaurants and you have Hong Kong.  A great city, but a big city none the less. I'm afraid I didn't have a whole lot of time to explore and get to know the city, but its beautiful with one of the largest, grandest skylines I've yet to see. The top of Victoria Peak (a big hill that goes up the side of the city) allows you to overlook the entire city. I went to the top of the peak at night when all the buildings were lit up. I also had my first opportunity to drink good beer since I've been in Spain (excepting of course Castle Milk Stout in Ghana). Hong Kong has an excellent bar scene, and I found a bar well stocked with various imports from across the world. It wasn't quite the selection of the Leafe, but I managed to try quite a variety of different drinks. The next morning I caught a cab to one of the largest airports I've ever been in. It had some 500+ gates... A very nice airport, but simply massive.

A Foreign Perspective of Americans

I'm sure you've heard that statistic that 70% (or some such figure) of the US population couldn't point to Iraq on a map. Now the veracity of that statistic is debatable, I'm sure this applies to segments of our population, but I doubt that we are collectively that bad. Unfortunately, foreign perception holds the statistic to be true as I would witness. I was sitting in a bar in Ho Chi Minh the first night speaking with British ESL teachers (English as a Second Language). We began discussing politics and I made the statement I probably would not be living in the United States in ten years. They asked why, and I responded that I disagree with many of the policies and practices of the United States, both internationally and domestically. Invariably this led to the war in Iraq. At this point they asked me if I knew where Iraq was. I was taken aback, of course I knew where Iraq is. None the less, they were serious. I didn't have a map available, but I pointed to the table and said if this area is Europe, and beneath is Africa. The Mediterranean sea is below, then we have Israel, Jordon, Saudi etc and Iraq is basically right here. At this point one of the men genuinely turned to me and thanked me for opening his eyes. He was of the assumption that as a general rule most Americans did not know where Iraq was on a map. He was shocked.

Over the course of my travels this is my first experience like this one. I am still surprised and hope it was an isolated incident. None the less, to some degree that perception of America exists. As most of you know I'm not the biggest supporter of America as a whole, but I hope we are better than that; I believe we are better than that.

Ha Long Bay

Of my five days in Vietnam, I spent most of them in Ha Long Bay an area in northern Vietnam on a Junk. Getting there was an ordeal, a two hour flight to Ha Noi followed by a three hour drive to the bay. We stayed out all night before going to the bay, needless to say it was neither my most pleasant flight nor my most pleasant drive. Once we arrived, it was truly blissful.

The Junk we stayed on was a beautiful wooden boat with accommodations for 14 plus crew. On the ship were six SaS students (my group), a family from Australia, and two couples from the US. The ship was plenty large for all of us, and no one seemed upset at being stuck on a ship with six college students.

The first order of business was lunch. We ate like kings. A multi-course seafood bonanza was brought to the table. Fish, shrimp, crab! Alden, you would have loved this the first course was six steamed crabs. Two people in our group didn't eat seafood, and they made accommodations for them. The service was truly amazing. All the meals we were served were similarly fantastic.

After lunch we traveled out into the bay. Neither pictures nor words and adequately describe this place. Imagine thousands of small stone spire like islands springing up everywhere. Each island is about ½ a kilometer in diameter and an entire 360 degrees of your vision is taken up by them. Some larger some smaller of course. We stopped a a larger island with a cave formation in it first. Growing up in Colorado, I've seen some of the most incredible cave systems in the world, these caves were a rival of any of the ones I've seen. Afterwards we went to a beach to swim until dinner time.

When we got back to the Junk, I needed a nap before dinner and crawled into bed to take one. Our tour guide had explained earlier in the day that if we wanted to bring beer or alcohol onto the ship it would cost 10,000 dong per beer and 100,000 dong per bottle of liqueur or wine. Everyone assumed that we would be going to a village or something to purchase the alcohol, yet how wrong we were. When I woke from my nap I opened my cabin door. Lo and behold a woman in a row boat had pulled up next to the ship and was calling “cold beer”, “good price, cheap”, and “you buy, you buy” with her accent it sounds much more like “coal bia”, “goo pice” and “ou bi, ou bi”. I can't really describe it without saying it. I was taken aback to say the least. Anyway, dinner was equally delicious that night, and we made a fairly early bed considering our collective sleep deprivation from our all nighter beforehand.

The next morning we boated to a floating fishing village. The entire village was literally made of boats and rafts tied together. The community probably consisted of a few hundred people at most. We stopped at a school for the children of the village sponsored by Norway (yes the country), where we briefly played with the kids. Our guide informed us that most of the children could swim before they could walk; I'm not surprised – I was on skis at two after all.

Later that afternoon we went swimming and kayaking in the bay. We jumped off the top of the Junk into the water, which was a grand time. Afterwards I went on the most serene and peaceful kayaking experience of my life. Completely isolated from everyone except for our small group, we kayaked through several small islands and into a bay. The water was serene and peaceful, it was amazingly quiet, and perfectly gorgeous. My partner did manage to drop her paddle into the water (it didn't float), but that was the only disturbance of the trip (rather amusing and enjoyable, we dived the 10 meters down to the bottom to search for it entirely unsuccessfully). Back at the ship that night we relaxed, enjoyed the sunset (better than Michigan believe it or not, yes Dad it actually was), and relaxed for the remainder of the night.

The next day we had to get up early and get back to Ho Chi Minh city to be back on the boat at 9 pm.

Cu Chi Tunnels + Ho Chi Minh (Part 2)

The Cu Chi tunnels are the tunnels that run throughout southern Vietnam that were controlled by the Vietcong during the war. The tunnels are ~124 miles long, and cover the greater area near Saigon. The Vietcong used the tunnels to transport information and troops throughout the area. Today you can visit the tunnels and learn about the war.

The second day a group of us went to the tunnels. The tourist destination is roughly and hour and a half away from Ho Chi Minh and we hired a bus to take us there. The first stop on the tour is a tiny little whole in the ground that the Vietcong used to get in and out of the tunnels. When I say tiny, the whole is barely smaller than my hips and much smaller than my shoulders. It was a struggle for me to fit into the tunnel. Everyone had a chance to climb in and out of the whole, I am about the maximum size to fit inside, that is after I severely contort my body.

The next stop on the tour was a pit trap setup by the vietcong. US soldiers would walk over the trap where they would fall into a whole filled with fecal covered spikes. Generally speaking, the trap wouldn't kill the soldier, rather it would severely wound them. The wounds would quickly become infected because of the spikes. Not a pleasant way to go. We also saw an old abandoned US tank and Vietcong dummies in repose.

The next major stop was a demonstration of various different traps the Vietcong setup for the US soldiers. None of them were very pleasant; most of them were some variation of the original pit trap. There was also the “door” trap, which had a board covered in spikes hung from above a door frame. When someone walked through the door they would trigger the trap which would swing down and impale them.

Next we saw how the Vietcong created all these traps. They used the parts from failed bomb and mortar shells. Unexploded US bombs would be melted down and forged into the spikes used against the US soldiers. Gunpowder and other explosives would be used to create land mines.

Our next stop was an actual opportunity to go through the tunnels. Our guide led us through a roughly 100 meter section of the tunnels. The tunnels are incredibly small and tight. I literally squatted for the majority of the time I was in the tunnels. At some points I had to get on hand and knee and crawl. Apparently, the tunnels have been widened to allow the tourists more mobility. Understand, as an American at 6' 4” I'm about twice the size of the average Vietnamese person, but the point remains that the tunnels were small.

Next came one of the most exciting points of the Cu Chi tunnels, the firing range. I have never fired nor held a fully automatic weapon, despite having one parent from S. Texas and another from Indiana. My range includes deer rifles of various sorts, shotguns, a few handguns, and many .22s and pellet guns. They have a full range of weapons used by the US and Vietcong/N. Vietnamese armies available for use by the tourists. You are required to purchase your own bullets, but otherwise are free to fire any weapon you choose.

I split ten rounds on an AK-47 and ten rounds on a M-16 with another person on our tour. The firing range had ear protection in the form of old headphones for our use. The only other safety precaution was the guns being loosely mounted on a platform. A guide loaded the guns for us, and then let us shoot at will. They had targets setup at the end of the range, but most people were interested in shooting the guns rather than hitting anything. For many people in our group it was their first time firing a weapon, interesting no? Very much an exciting thrill for everyone. This essentially concluded our tour. Ultimately, it was highly education and entertaining, anyone traveling to Saigon should make the Cu Chi tunnels a stop on their trip.

Ho Chi Minh (Saigon)

When I told you India was unquestionably the cheapest country I have ever been too, I was wrong. Vietnam is so cheap its expensive. By that I mean, “this is only a dollar how could I not buy it?” multiplied by about 1000x. To give you a slightly better example, it cost me ~4 USD to call home for 40 mins. That's less expensive than any other country I've been to by about ½.

Anyway, the first day I was in Ho Chi Minh (formerly Saigon) I spent the morning buying the country, which I did for ~50 USD. Yes, I now own Vietnam. And the rest of the day going on adventures with the Hauk drivers (Probably spelled horribly wrong, its pronounced like huck). A Hauk driver is someone who owns a motor bike and drives you around the city on the back of it. It costs approximately one dollar to go anywhere. It should cost less, but its easiest to just pay a dollar and not worry about it.

I wanted to go to the War Remnants museum, formerly titled the War Atrocities museum after shopping. I tried to walk it, which was a horrible idea, because depending on who I spoke with they gave me different directions. I eventually broke down and hired a Hauk, who drove me all over creation only to arrive there and find it was closed for the day. At that point I called it a day and decided to go back to the ship to get ready for the night.

This is where my really exciting adventure begins. A group of four of us were attempting to go to Le Pub (a local bar) because they had one dollar vodka mixers for the night. Not a bad price (even for Vietnam). We were debating about hiring a taxi, or getting four Hauks to take us. We decided to take Hauks. All four of them assured us they knew where it was and we set off. We drove, then we drove some more, then some more, before finally arriving at a “bar”. This bar was 1, definitely not Le Pub, and 2 most likely a house ill repute. Several extremely scantily clad Vietnamese women walked out of the bar upon our arrive and told us to come in where we would have “a good time”. We left in a hurry.

It was evident we weren't going to be able to find Le Pub, and decided we would settle on cheap beer. So, we told our Hauk drivers to take us to cheap beer. We all started going. 1st three of us turn and one of us doesn't. Not a big deal, he probably took a wrong turn but they all knew where they were going so we figured he'd be ok. We continue driving and gradually get into deeper and darker Ho Chi Minh. Understand, I'm not entirely sure we're still in Ho Chi Minh at this point, it could be Ha Noi for all I know. It keeps getting less and less well lit, and then all of a sudden its down to two of us. We lost someone else along the way. At this point, I'm thinking in my head how many of these tiny little Vietnamese guys could I take if they tried to jump me? Maybe two or three at best... They are all about 5' 2” after all, but I'm not liking my odds if I end up at the end of a dark alley by myself somewhere.

Things are rapidly going down hill, when lo and behold the two of us pull up at an outdoor restaurant in the middle of Ho Chi Minh somewhere. And lo, a third one, and the fourth of us all show up. Somehow, we had arrived at the same place unscathed. And true to their word, cheap beer abounded. As I said we were in the middle of Ho Chi Minh somewhere, not a white person in sight. The beer was 7000 VND a beer (the exchange rate is 18000 to 1) so a little under fifty sense a beer. Not bad right?

The rest of the night brought many and more adventures, but nothing of quite as grand proportions.

India

I woke the next morning fairly early to start my day. Immediately after leaving port, I was picked up by a kind and friendly police officer who dropped me off at a museum. I was really interested in finding food, but thanked him none the less and waited for him to drive off before searching for a rickshaw. I soon found one and hired him for the day at 100 rupees. The exchange rate is ~50 to 1. I spent roughly two dollars to be driven around the entire day. The man took me to eat, where I did buy him lunch for his services.

Afterwards he took me to four shops, which I didn’t want to go to. I knew he was getting a kickback from the shops, it turned out in the form of clothing, but I didn’t mind the brief detour in my day. I certainly wasn’t going to buy anything. Afterwards he took me to the market where I did buy some stuff. I bought a shirt and three cashmere scarves. The cashmere scarves were twenty dollars each, an incredible price. The markets were very interesting, and of course everyone wanted to sell me everything, nothing quite like being a walking dollar sign, but at this point I’m used to it. Besides that India is unquestionably the most inexpensive place I have visited thus far. If the rickshaw doesn’t exemplify that I don’t know what will.

I spent the rest of the day similarly walking about and shopping. Walking around India is an experience. The people, the smell, the filth, everything. It is unquestionably the most crowded place I have ever been, almost a billion people in a relatively small space – compared to the United States at least. The poverty is extreme and beggars abound, but you learn to ignore them quickly. The experience is very different. You learn quickly to accept and go with whatever the circumstances bring. Leave a minimum of an extra hour for anything you plan on doing or anywhere you need to be.

The Birth of Religion (AoL part 2)

I have had a few requests to expand on the idea of the birth of a religion I briefly mentioned when describing the AoL course. In many ways, I can see how in one hundred or two hundred years the man who started the AoL program could become deified, and a religion will be born from a program designed to assist and help fulfill the average life.

The person who led our program had a very interesting way in describing the man, whom I gather she had met several times. If you asked her directly she wold undoubtedly say she did not worship him, or believe him to be anything other than a particularly kind and generous human being. The reason I said she seemed to worship him earlier is the manner in which she described him. It struck me as incredibly similar to biblical descriptions of Jesus, or historical descriptions of Buddha. Buddha obviously wasn't deified directly, but the connection between being a spiritual separate from most humans remains. On a personal level she was emotionally deifying/worshiping/separating him from the rest of humanity, a small leap from doing so logically.

Aside from the personal anecdotal evidence provided by the AoL instructor, we also watched a few movies about the man who started the program, and his travels across the world. He had traveled across the world spreading his ideas and methods. In many of the countries thousands of people would come to hear him speak. Crowds literally swarmed him, throwing flowers and leaves at him, calling his name, and begging to be close to him. The attitudes of the various crowds stuck me as going beyond the usual pomp and accord appointed to most religious leaders, be it the Pope or the Dali Lama.

Of course this is all conjecture, and most likely I'm reading into something far beyond what I should be, but I found it interesting none the less.

The Art of Living

My first day in India was immediately absorbed by the Art of Living program, as would the following two days. In the program manual, the AoL is described as a three day meditation, breathing, and yoga retreat at Dakshina Chitra, a fairly apt description. The first day was spent touring various different temples in and around the Chennai area. The first temple we stopped at was still in use. Cows roamed around the interior, granting veracity to the old adage of holy cow. Inside we briefly observed the priest perform a ritual; afterwards he gave me a coconut. In truth of fact the caste system is still partially in effect; only men from the Brahmin caste can become priests. Our guide explained all of this to us as we were led around the temple compound. We would visit two more ancient temples over the course of the day.

Later we arrived at Dakshina Chitra, a compound much like Colonial Williamsburg in miniature. It is a tourist area designed to preserve the way of life that existed in Southern India prior to Western influence. They preserve the old way of life through culture, architecture, and multiple displays explaining and showcasing the rapidly deteriorating old ways. After a brief tour of the complex we began the AoL course. Our instructor was a young woman approximately 30 years old, my best guess at least, who had been trained in the AoL. The AoL is a worldwide program, process, border line religion. Our group would take the three day course, and learn the program.

Our first session was very basic. We played some games and did some trust exercises before we started our first breathing and meditation exercises. For those of you that have taken yoga or other breathing exercises in the past, this will strike you as familiar. We learned a new method of breathing through our core which is supposed to fully open the three orbs in our lungs. I won’t profess to understand exactly what this means, but it was more difficult than I anticipated. It also seemed to have the desired effect.

That night we ate our first vegetarian meal of the program. We would only be eating vegetarian for the next few days. It was served in the classic Tamil (the state we were in) manner, on a banana leaf. A variety of different foods, which I won’t even attempt to name, let alone describe, were placed around the banana. We were then instructed to eat with our hands. It was delicious. Undoubtedly, some of the best food I have eaten in my life. Afterwards, an early bed at approximately nine at night.

The next day we woke up early to what I will loosely define as yoga. It was nothing like the programs we are used to in the US. The work out was much more relaxed and less physical, I only call it exercise because that is what our instructor called it. We went through the various warrior stances and a few other basic poses before concluding. At that point we continued with our breathing and meditation.

I now know how to get high off of breathing. When I say high, I mean to literally hallucinate by breathing in a specific manner. I remember at one point looking down at my hands (though my eyes were closed) and marveling at the large red ants that were crawling all over them. It wasn’t scary or bad, just interesting. I also lost all sense of time and place; I was completely oblivious to the fact that I was in India during this breathing session. The process starts the same as the one we learned yesterday. After that we close our eyes and breathe deeply and slowly, more rapidly, and finally at an intense pace for a certain number of cycles and rhythms. My overly analytical mind has decided that it affects the levels of oxygen and CO2 in the brain. At any rate it was a very intense and interesting experience, and ultimately good.

That afternoon we learned more about the program. The AoL was started by a guru several years ago. Many thousands of people have gone through the program and learned its methods and ways. To be honest, aside from the breathing and meditation, the program strikes me as extremely Chicken Soup for the Soulesque. Our instructor is filled with messages of give 100%, love your neighbor, the world loves you, and everything will be alright. I don’t necessarily disagree with the message, but it struck me as over simplified. I shall remain a skeptic. The other aspect of the AoL that struck me was its progression into a religion or a cult. I genuinely believe that our instructor worshiped the guru who started the program. She certainly idolized him and consistently spoke of him as many people speak of other religious leaders, Jesus, Allah, God. It was a brief glimpse in the birth of a religion and the deification of a man. The food continued to be delicious.

The third and final day was spent refining our breathing and meditation practices from the previous day. I have nothing particularly new to add. We came back to the ship at 9 that night. Dakshina Chitra was extremely sheltered from the reality of India, and as such I was excited to see the India that awaited me the next day.

 
 
 
 

Vietnam + Pictures + India

Hey Everyone,

I hope to be uploading pictures from the past few ports soon. I also promise to upload about India tomorrow. I have much to tell. As of right now, I'm sitting in a bar in Vietnam, enjoying a beer. I have also bought Vietnam for the price of $50.00. Yes, it is that cheap.

More uploads soon.