The Amazon

July 26

Well it was an early morning. We got up at 6 hoping to have enough time to inhale breakfast at 7, and then leave at 715. Which would have been all good, except that breakfast was't ready to go at 7 and we still left on time at 715. 

The Peruvians have an interesting schedule. Everything starts late. Breakfast is simple (bread and marmalade), which means second breakfast is a must, especially since lunch isn't until 2pm. Then dinner is around 7-8. Schedules?  Schedules are a guideline, not a structure to follow or something to design a spreadsheet after. And when they tell you 20 minutes, they mean 40 or maybe an hour, or maybe more.  It all works out though, the only reason I'm wearing a watch is because Darren looks like a girl wearing it. Ali (our guide) has let us know that the key to enjoying Peru is to be flexible, so flexible we are. 

So, off we went to catch our bus to the airport, where we all checked in, sorted out some missing luggage and got on our way. Well it turned out that on our way was not our usual back of the plane where no one will see us. Somehow, Darren, myself, and the "Jones's" all ended up in first class. I felt bad for our friends back in row 13, but for the first time I actually felt like I was on my honeymoon. We drank champagne, had lots of key room, pillows, and an amazing lunch. I felt under dressed and a little out of place but appreciated the experience none the less. 

After arriving in Maldonaldo we hopped on a bus to the Rainforest Project Office. Here we unpacked and repacked for our 2 day Amazon trip. We had a few guests while we packed. A big black monkey curled up in the lap of one of the guests and tried to schmooze their orange juice out of them. They are ballsy and so cute!

A bus ride, a boat ride down the Amazon, and here we were. Not sure what we were expecting, but it wasn't this. When they described our beds using the word "mattress" I totally expected a roll out foamy on the floor.  Well that was an understatement. 

Our room is beautiful. I can barely describe it. The far wall is completely open (to help you stay better connected with nature), working back into the room is a hammock (SCORE!), then our beautiful bed. The room is amazing, words cannot express how out of this world this room is. It reminds me of something out of a movie. 

Because we were behind schedule, it got too dark before we were able to go to the "tower", so we just hung out, basked in the glory of this beautiful and had a few drinks before dinner.  While we were waiting, we spotted a few monkeys and a capibara. The capibara was adoreable. It looked like a piglet with a long nose. 

So tomorrow, it's a 4am wakeup. We're going piraña fishing and a little more animal sighting, then a frightening though exciting nigh walk!

Wish us luck!

2nd Pisco Sour

Well, we met up with our tour group today. I'm pretty excited about out group, we're roughly the same age and everyone is pretty fabulous. There's another teacher in the group (from the UK) and a few bankers. I think it'll be a good couple of weeks. Our tour guide is especially fabulouso! She is fiery and passionate about her country. I'm already in love with her. Today was a tourist's day. We saw the San Fransisco catacombs-aka-I saw a lot of bones today. Yes, human remains. They were mostly arranged by bone type: tibia, femur, skulls, etc. There were bones in a well that were even arranged in a circle. Very strange. At one point, we were informed that only 4 meters below us were even more remains. That was weird and made me very conscious of where I stood. After that very bizar tour, our guide took us through some of the squares and showed us some of the old colonial buildings. However because of earthquakes most of those Buildings were destroyed. Where they still stood was a seedy part of town. We were considering going there and as soon as we decided not to a bunch of policia started marching across the bridge. Eek! From there we went to "Boliviarda" to have a "pure" Pisco sour. Mine was "cathedral size" and it really was! From there we went to dinner and omg was it ever fabulouso. It was one of the restaurants run by a famous chef in Peru, and I must say, the food here is moi delicioso! The best asparagus stuffed ravioli ever. I keep asking Darren to go fetch me some churros to properly round up the night, but he won't. Well, after out amazing dinner it was back to our hotel, and here we are. We have an early morning, departing at 715 for the Amazon so it's early to bed tonight. Not sure when we'll have wifi again. I doubt the Amazon will. So as long as we don't get eaten by piranhas while we're fishing I'll keep you posted. Buenos Noches!

Our First Pisco Sour

Well, day 1 in Lima and so far so good. After over 24hrs in transit, we arrived last night exhausted and smelly. But we arrived, in tact and ready for yet another adventure. After sleeping for nearly 12 hours we took our time getting up and getting ready. Now, it may sound like we're already wasting time, and I must admit there was a touch of guilt at our lack of urgency, but this was more or less how we had planned things. We wanted a day before the tour to settle in and catch up on some much needed sleep. We were so exhausted after the wedding and Sunday was a total whirlwind as well.

So, after a much needed shower and a quick chat with our guesthouse manager we grabbed a coffee and sandwich, and began walking. From Miraflores we walked through Lima (I was totally lost but Darren seemed to know where he was), to an old bridge. They say that the first time you walk across this bridge you're supposed to hold your breath and make a wish. So of course, I wanted to stop half way across and take a picture. Turning blue, Darren silently turned me down and gave me a hard time once we were on the other side (the bridge isn't even that long).

After the bridge, we went to Javier's (recommendation by our guesthouse) had our first pisco sours of the trip. Following these delicious local drinks, we had some pretty fantastic seafood. It was pretty amazing and now we're both 10 pounds heavier. To wash it all down we shared uno sangrias. Those of you who know me, know how much I love me some sangrias. A little fatter and a little barracho we hailed a taxi back to our guesthouse.

I must say that for all the warnings and caution out there about Peru, the people seem absolutely lovely. Granted, our guesthouse manager and the taxi driver were both telling us what to watch out for, but bless their hearts for caring. So far we're safe and sound, and well warned of where to stay away from.

On another note, Darren's Spanish is improving--and by improving, I mean that he adds an 'es' or 'o' to the end of English words and calls it Spanish. Like "Me goinges to drinkes some beeres". Perfect Spanish! I think people have been assuming that I can speak Spanish because they always face me and rattle off in their native tongue and don't seem to register the confused look on my face. We are already picking up a bit of the language though, being the stereotypical tourists walking around with our phrase book and butchering every word we utter.

On a personally disturbing note, my camera is feeling like a completely foreign object. It makes me a little sad, I'm so out of practice. Pictures will probably have to wait until we get home though, which will give me some time to redeem myself. Buenos Noches!

Kids

I could probably write an entire blog just on the random things that go on at work and the random people I meet.  Here's an example.

Last night I was serving a party of 7.  It was a 23rd birthday, family dinner.  Near the end of their evening I overheard two adults talking about something "that bites".  The youngest at the table was probably about 8, and very authoritatively he explained that -whatever it was- "hasn't bitten anyone in 7 years!!!"  A little skeptical, the adults asked him how he knew such facts and the boy explained that he heard it on the news.  Curious, the adults asked the boy which news station he got his facts from.  Very proudly and with wisdom beyond his years he replied, "Dr. Oz" (DUH!).

Nice People

Before we left Hong Kong, a well traveled friend explained to me that the kindness of the locals we met while traveling is different than the infamous kindness of Canadians.  She says that the kindness you encounter in Asia is largely due to the fact that everyone is selling something.  Whether it's street food, trinkets, advertising for their restaurant or some sort of tour, just about everyone in Asia is nice to you because they want something from you.  Canadians will apparently be nice to you for no reason whatsoever.

Today I was in line at the grocery store.  Standing in line at the "less than 12 items" check out, an old man took his place behind me.  Not a minute had gone by before he started chatting me up, telling me about the convenience of tv dinners, which he only eats when he doesn't feel like cooking... which isn't often because he loves to cook.  He's never cooked a roast before because it's just him and a roast is a lot of food for one person, but the next time there's a sale he's going to buy a roast and then portion and freeze the leftovers for sandwiches.  He'll keep the frozen meet, along with his tv dinners in the freezer under the stairs... He's made friends with some of the women working at Superstore, because he's a regular shopper and sometimes they stop him to say hello because they recognize him because he's a regular shopper.... It's such a beautiful day today....

He continued this type of kind and random banter with myself, everyone else in line, and the lady working the till... for no apparent reason but to be friendly and kind.

The Final Moments

It's that time.  The time that we have been both looking forward to and dreading.  It is time to go home.  Our bags are packed and waiting in the corner, and tomorrow morning, we will take one more taxi, one more ride on the MTR, and we'll check in for one more flight (okay, so we'll have to transfer and check-in in Beijing as well, but you get the picture).

Everyone we know (including ourselves) says that traveling changes your life.  Darren says (from his experience in Europe) that there comes a moment right before you get home, where you reflect on everything you've done and contemplate all that you've learned and how you've changed.  He also says that I haven't had this moment yet because I've been too busy prematurely thinking about wedding stuff (which is true of course).  However, as these last days have approached I've thought about a lot of things.  I've thought about the wedding of course, about my favourite experiences, about surviving Darren for six months, and a whole slew of other things.

For example:
I've learned that you can pretty much fit anything on a motorcycle.  You've got household furniture that needs to be transported?  No problem, strap it to a bike.  What about a few oil drums?  Done!  You've got a couple full grown, live pigs that need to get across the city?  Easy!  Maybe you're thinking the motorcycle isn't a practical family vehicle.  Well, you'd be wrong.  You can easily fit mom, dad, auntie, and two or three kids onto a bike, no problem.  Whatever you can think of, we've probably seen it being transported through dense traffic in the middle of a busy city, on a motorbike.  Those things are amazing.

I've learned that you can use the squat for anything.  Number one and number two, well those are obvious.  But what if you need to stop and have a long cell phone conversation?  Just pop a squat.  What about enjoying a midday meal in the rice fields?  Squat.  What about enjoying an afternoon meal while completely nude?  SQUAT!  You never need to worry about chairs ever again.

Through our many food adventures, I've learned, as I've mentioned before, that you can get Indian food just about anywhere.  I've also learned that I don't look good with love handles.

I've learned that being half Asian is just about the most beneficial thing when traveling in this country.  People were constantly confusing us for one of their own.  Everywhere we went it was "are you Vietnemese/Thai/Laos/Chinese?"  They weren't always sure, but the suspicion was always prevalent.  They never know what language to address you in, unless you walked in speaking English, and even then sometimes they'd offer to help you in their native tongue.  It's come in handy, especially when we have been able to speak a few words in the local language.  Initial asking prices always seemed to be lower for us, or if they weren't, they seemed more inclined to give us a better discount.  People on the street have generally been more polite and willing to help us with directions or whatever it is we've needed.  I've always felt that when I'm home (in Canada) I'm Filippino and when I'm abroad I'm Canadian.  That's still true, but here I get to be both.  There's something to be said about always feeling welcome and embraced wherever you are.  Sometimes, I suppose locals feel adverse to the invasion of their lives and culture by westerners, especially when some westerners can be very ignorant of local customs and etiquette; but, Darren and I almost always experienced nothing but a warm welcome.

I've also learned, despite the many beauties and pleasantries of all the countries we've visited, that BC is still my home.  There are some things I'm going to miss about Asia and traveling, like the incredibly low cost of living, the amazing food, the amazing people, the diversity of life, the carefree living of a traveler, and perpetual tan; but, there are things I wont miss, like the smell of fermented tofu, the spitting and loud talking, having to constantly take a bus or a plane, the complete lack of spacial awareness ("spasian awareness"), wearing clothes that are always wrinkled, and never really having a place to call your own.  Some people travel, and they say they never want to go home which I can certainly appreciate, but for me BC is where I belong.

Asia has also helped us appreciate something I think we can never appreciate enough.  The sense of community and the importance of the family in Asian culture is far beyond the ideas of the family unit in any other society I've experienced.  You don't just hang out with the kid next door around here, you hang out with the entire village.  Children run up and down the streets at all hours playing and looking out for one another.  The woman down the street is as much a parental figure to a little girl as her own mother.  We've met people who are reluctant to embrace the potential for a better life with more opportunities because they're not willing to leave their family.  The importance placed on family here really made us miss our own.  Darren and I have each other, we are each other's family, and I think that makes traveling for long periods of time easier.  Being together, we never feel lonely.  We are also fortunate enough to have family and close friends scattered across the globe.  Whether it's Hong Kong or Singapore, there are little bits of family abroad to make us feel comfortable and loved.  However, we also miss the rest of our family.  Eating with just the two of us isn't the same.  We've been fortunate enough to live in a time when technology allows us to share our experience with the people we love from so far away, but there were times when it just wasn't enough.  Times when you'd say, "This-person would love this!" or "I wish This-person could see this".  At the end of the day however, what the Asian family has really taught us, is that no matter how little money or material possessions you have, no matter how hard life can be, a family to share it with makes it all bearable.  The richest smiles I've seen were always on the poorest people surrounded by the ones they loved.

We've changed, Darren and I.  I know that the people who step onto that plane tomorrow are not the same people who made that same trip 6 months ago.  We're bigger people now, literally (our clothes are fitting a little snug and I have real love handles for the first time in my life) but, most of the changes are for the better.  We've learned a little more about each other, about ourselves and have grown together, and our views of certain things in this world have changed.  I sort of had this naive and egotistical notion when I left that after six months I'd just pick up from where I left off.  The first thing that really made me realize that life was still going on back home, despite my absence, was the realization that it would be winter when we returned, as if spring and summer were just going to wait for me to come home.  But the world back home has kept going while we've been away, and our lives and our world are going to continue to change once we get home.  Our family has changed and the true realization of that fact wont really hit us until we're there to experience it.  We're going to have to find a new place to call home and are taking on a room-mate.  I'm going back to school in January.  We're going to "start" planning a wedding, our wedding.  I guess my point comes back to what I first started talking about, that "moment".

I suppose I feel like I haven't had that single moment of reflection yet, because it's not just one particular moment.  It may sound cheesy but yes, I feel like life is an adventure.  This particular trip is ending but it's not really over.  I feel like I'm constantly thinking about what we've done, but also what we're going to do.  There are still stories to share and relive, new modes of thought to implement to our lifestyle, and people we've met to keep in touch with.  But the first thing I'm going to do when I get home, is take a breathe of fresh hair, and feel the warm loving embrace of family.

HCMC

HCMC.  Holy Congested Motorcycle Chaos!  Yes.  Ho Chi Mihn City, also known as Saigon, and home to the most motorcycles I've ever seen.  I thought Hanoi was bad, but I realized it's just because the streets in the Old Quarter are so narrow.  The streets here in Saigon are as wide as any others I've seen and still they're crowded.  It's okay though, because during rush hour when the roads look more like a swarm of buzzing bees with helmets, they just use the sidewalk.  Darren and I went on the Lonely Planet walking tour and we finished up right around rush hour.  We figured walking would be faster than taking a taxi because the traffic was so heavy, but then a piece of that traffic was honking behind me, and another piece was rushing past me.  You're not safe anywhere!

We made it out alive however and managed to see quite a bit.  The walking tour includes a lot of Saigon's various historical sights and museums.  We didn't get the earliest start and we didn't make it to all of them but the city definitely does have a lot to offer.  The most memorable for us, which I think is the same for most people, was the War Remnants Museum.  It's more of a photo gallery than a museum but I found that that made it that much more moving.  The exhibition on the ground floor, put together by Tim Page (as I understood from the guidebook) is incredible.  Not to say that the rest of the exhibit isn't incredible, but that first floor really shook me.  I took a photograph of the first photograph that struck me (in the Picassa album), but the rest were so horrific I couldn't bring myself to take pictures of those as well.  It's such a sombre and shocking experience; not because it was the most gruesome war in the history of the world, but because of how well documented it was (publicly).  There was this one image of a soldier holding the destroyed remains (including an arm, head and a bit of everything in between) which was devastating, and another of women and children's bodies laying on the ground with the caption, "Women and children who tried to get away."

Some say that the exhibit is one sided (but really, why shouldn't it be?).  I would beg to differ.  Maybe it depicts more of the Vietnamese casualties than the American or French, but what side these people belonged to doesn't really seem to be the point.  The exhibit certainly doesn't hold back in blaming the US or other armies in it's captions and introductions and the display of propaganda is plentiful; but, if you go through the exhibit (as I did) reading little of the words and just taking in the photographs themselves, what you really see, are people.  People and bombs and destruction and grief and death.  The war wasn't just the Vietnamese against the US or the French, but it was often the Vietnamese against the Vietnamese.  What the exhibit really highlighted for me was simply the pains of war.

During the entire viewing of the exhibit all I could feel was sadness, and all I could think of was the impact of each and every one of those photos and of the role of the photographer.  Some of the photographs were of the photographers and the last images of them before they were killed.  The photographers who survived wrote descriptions for the images in the museum.  I don't normally like statements or descriptions (hence why I rarely take the time to read them), and most of the time I don't even like/read titles.  With a lot of the pictures you didn't need a description or title to understand; however, there were a few pictures I couldn't help but want to know more about.  There was one image of a girl in the midst of total destruction, mouth wide open, with a look of terror on her face.  According to the write-up she was running away from an attack, running as her home was in flames, screaming 'Mommy!  Mommy!'  The picture alone was heart breaking, there was so much anguish in her face, but that description (which I did no justice to) nearly brought me to tears.  There was another of children crying and running naked down the street, with soldiers in the background, and a small mother-daughter portrait added in the corner.  The write-up explained who the central figure (a young girl) was and that she was struck by a napalm bomb.  There were others, even more horrific and violent and disturbing.

The museum also had an exhibit commemorating Hanoi's 1000 year anniversary.  They had images of the old and the new.  Hanoi during the war and Hanoi today.  It was hopeful, seeing pictures of despair juxtaposed with pictures of new life.  There was one image in particular that I remember, it was of a little girl.  It was simple.  Just a little girl, standing on a boat beside a basket of shellfish, but she had the biggest brightest eyes and the happiest smile.  It was beautiful.

If you ever get the chance.  Go see it.  Between the heart breaking photos inside, and all the tanks, bomb shells and war machines outside, it really is a unique experience.  I've never seen anything like it before in my life (maybe I'm a little sheltered) and it really is an eye opener.

(Side note:  In it's brief description of Vietnam's extensive history the guidebook suggests that if the US had bothered to pay any attention to that history a lot of lives could have been saved.  At one point some of the Vietnamese even took up the slogan "Independence or Death".  No matter how few people they had, or how few resources, the Vietnamese have always refused to surrender.)