Crackpot

27 December 2007: I'm lying on my pack, in the rain, at dusk, clutching my injured knee on the bouldered banks of the Wanganui River Valley and this guy is talking to me about lemons.

Lemons are what you don't want to add up - the gambling equivalent of hitting all cherries or 7's - winning you the outdoor disaster jackpot. My knee is no slot machine, but I did hear it bling, ring, and pop!

Now faced with the decision of turning back or seeking shelter, I recalled a quote by the great philosopher, Yogi Berra, who said: If you come to a fork in the road, take it.

So, that night, I chose to continue on - though the rain, darkness, and swollen rivers to Hunters Hut.

Many hours and a few more lemons later, Andy (Colorado, Astronomy PhD candidate) and I bivouacked before an impassable river crossing. Maybe tomorrow, we'll get to the hut and make lemonade.

Image from: jackie (bivouac shelter)

Piece

1 December 2007: Kate's blog entry on our bike ride for peace through East Timor. Enjoy.

Flashback: Maubisse to Dili Roadrace

Talking with my sister via Skype I realized that I never told to story of the bike race, and that my family have only heard bits and pieces, primarily that I fell off. It was much more glorious than that, so some retroactive blogging is in order:

My friend Boatshoe and I were brought together because of three things, rugby, prom dresses (or more accurately, rugby in prom dresses) and bikes. When it turned out that she would be coming though Timor-Leste en route to New Zealand (via Japan, Cambodia, India, UK, Spain, Indonesia no sst.), and I realized that I could offer neither polyester or a pitch, bikes it was.

The race was organized to promote peace. Banners up around Dili featured a leggy, peddling dove and slogans about racial harmony and national unity. This is has been one of a series of public events aimed at rebuilding community cohesion and organized with the support of the Office of the President. The walk and concert on Saturday (22/12) are the next on the list.



With Boatshoe and L onboard, and Vulgar agreeing to be our support man/menu advisor/pit crew boss, we headed out to Maubisse. I packed myself into the back of the ute with the bikes, turned up the Stones, and counted the up- and down-hills with growing comprehension of my total lack of preparedness.

Maubisse sits high in the center of Timor-Leste, and really, that is still all I know about it. We arrived at the posada after dark, just as the rains came. And the scene was Timor-strange: I have never seen so many people carrying large weapons* next to so many people jumping around in bike helmets. At night. In the rain. The perpetually/prematurely be-helmed we dubbed “Team Helmet.”**

At about four in the morning Team Hemet was up running a lap around the posada. The toilet that we were sleeping behind was coming to life, and the Australian ISF started breaking down their metal cots; there was no going back to sleep. Boatshoes shook the president’s hand, and then it was time to make a move for Dili.



The race started with a slow and steady climb, then a series of long down-hills looking over a river valley patched with rice fields.

Through Aileu (doing fine…) and Bam! I took a turn too wide, braked to avoid the motorbike (and a cow), and bit the pavement. I got back on, amidst fortifying shouts of “Motor salah!” (“It’s the motorbike’s fault”) and tootled down the rest of the hill before assessing the damage. My back wheel was potato-chipped, and I had a few minor scrapes. Some bike swaps later, the three of us were on the road and securely in the back of the pack.

In the rear, with Team Helmet long gone, the stragglers – malae hotu-hotu – moaned our way up the hills. Boatshoe, with nothing to prove, joined Vulgar, and as we rolled by they’d serenade us with harmonica duets of Queen’s “Bicycle, Bicycle” from the bed of the Hilux.

Sixty-five kilometers, and four-plus hours later, L and I pulled in at the Indonesian-era gates welcoming people to descend to Dili. I passed my bike off to Boatshoe, ostensibly to let her glide gamely into the capital – a gesture she easily understood as coming from my exhaustion of being absolutely terrified on the steep hairpin turns.

To her unending credit, Boatshoe completed the worst uphill and the nastiest down-hill sections of the race. She was also the race’s only cyclist to wear flip-flops. Kudos, kudos.

Back in Dili the PA system was being packed away at the Palacio and the fanfare over the winner, who had made it in 2.5 hours – on par with a car – had probably already showered and watched the evening news. Kudos, kudos.

I want to do it again. To do it on my bike, to do it knowing what to expect, to do it after a good night’s sleep and a few weeks of sensible training. But that would be to ride it well, to make good time. What we did was truly a peace ride: at peace with taking up the rear, at peace with hurting for a week after, and accepting that sometimes the only thing to do is drop into the lowest gear and keep creeping forward, hoping things will get easier around the next bend.



* The large police contingent was in part due to the presence of the president at the posada,

** The majority of Timorese riders had matching bikes and helmets, suggesting significant and admirable sponsorship. These was also some great justice to it all, as it was finally the malaes who were stuck at the back dealing with equipment malfunctions.

Photos: Heading out from Dili. Bottom - Vulgar and Boatshoe before starting the race.

Lights

7 November 2007: First night of Diwali - Festival of Lights - and I celebrate with lights, camera, action as a Bollywood extra.

We're not talking Bollywood blockbuster - the show is a popular TV series, Kaajjal. There's no Aamir Khan, Salman Khan, nor Shahrukh Khan (each superstars of the Khan trio), but I would like to introduce my Bollywood stage name: A. Mary Khan.

The scene is a dance party in Goa. I am typecast as a tourist. I could complain to my agent, but he doesn't speak English.

Basically, I sit on the edge of the dance floor with Craig (American Bollywood extra, Carolinas USA). His blog, American Mumbaiker, details his work for a month now. We entertain ourselves watching belly dancers do basic steps while the director tells us to cheer or jump right into the dance.

The night shot was long, so I was happy to sit instead of do the tourist twist to Jennifer Lopez's If You Had My Love from 5PM to 5 AM.

A particular scene I enjoyed involved the main guy working his way through the tables, bar, front stage, and dance floor, as shimmying women blocked his view from his woman in waiting. Waiters also pass through and one comes up to my table to deliver a drink.

Take two: When the waiter sets the drink at my place again, I flip a coin onto his tray. He sets back and laughs. The scene continues and he returns my coin, teasing me it's a mere one Rupee. Serves him right, I wanted beer, not orange Fanta.

Dwo

6 November 2007: I met my former Brown housemate, Mandar (Solid Mechanics Professor, India), and his sister for dinner.

Unfortunately I won't be able to join their houshold for Diwali. Mandar's family continues to deliver wedding invitations for the December 2nd event and his mother has fallen ill.

Regardless, it was a pleasure to spend time with Mandar and get to know his sister. She was quite the helpful tutor. Now I can read Hindi numbers in order to catch the right bus.

Image from: Mandar (L-R: sister, bride, groom, mother, father)

what Colombia has on India....

5 November 2007: Linda's email update on life in Colombia. Enjoy.

Guerrilla takeovers of isolated towns, like the one I was just in!

The following is a true story that transpired about 2 hours ago in a small pueblo called Salento in the zona cafetera de Colombia...

It went something like this. I´d gotten back from a trip to the Parque Nacional de Cafe (too Disneyland for me, but no matter) and spent an hour or so window shopping in the adorable storefronts that make up the Calle Real. I had taken all my stuff with me, in preparation to head to the nearby vereda Boquia later in the evening. At some point I decided I was hungry and headed to a restaurant on the plaza.

I walked in and noticed that the only customers were a couple finishing their meal, despite that fact that the place was huge and had a 6 or 7 person staff. No matter, I was hungry. I ordered bandeja paisa and a beer, and sat down to wait.

As the waiter brought me the beer, a waitress screamed something about guerrillas and ran to the front windows to close the large, wooden shutters... there were a few seconds when everyone seemed to be watching her and in awe. Then, everyone was running around agitated and talking on cell phones. Occasionally someone would glance out the window or door and comment on the people running through the plaza. The people who worked there, presumably from the area, seemed terrified and confused about what to do... there was discussion about whether we should stay locked up in the restaurant with all the shades closed pretending that the place was closed for the night, or if we should all go home. Several people seemed to think it was very dangerous to go out into the street and especially into the plaza.

Presumably the cellphone conversations revealed that the guerrilla was poised on the Mirador on the edge of town and seemed to be advancing (when I asked how this info came to us, no one would give me an answer.. one guy said, ¨Everybody knows.¨ You´ve got to wonder how this scene would have played out before the age of cell phones.) After a panicked 5 minutes with everyone huddled around the kitchen, a consensus emerged that we should all leave the building and get the hell away from the plaza.

Here arose a slightly sticky situation for your dear Lindahop... that being, 1 I had no where to go since I´d left my hostel and there were likely no more rooms available, 2 there was no way I was going to wait around indefinitely in the plaza for the bus, as I´d planned, 3 the hostel where I´d stayed was in the direction of the advancing guerrilla...

So, I asked one of the waiters where to go, and he said to wait for the bus with a frightened huddle on one side of the plaza. Thinking of the US passport in my bag, I immediately rejected this advice and knocked on the window of the car of another waiter as it was pulling out of its parking space... ¨Can you drop me off at a hostel, anywhere, pleeeease?¨ I begged, and to good effect. The guy and his friend brought me to a town about 20 minutes away...en route, he talked on his cell to someone still in the town. It seems that the guerrilla is advancing, although this person hadn´t yet seen them.

The waiters told me the guerrilla is based close-ish to Salento, but doesn´t come by town much these days, given the strong military presence in the area. Tonight´s case is special because the guerrilla´s preferred candidate lost in last Sunday´s elections, and presumably the guerrilla wants to teach the town a lesson.

The waiters were afraid of bombs more than anything else, though they nodded in agreement when I expressed my concern about being kidnapped.......

Exciting stuff, no? Much as I´m glad I got away so fast--and happy to see I can keep my presence of mind in a tense situation--the journalist in me is dying to be back there to see what this looks like....

Love,
Your favorite escape artist

Smell

5 November 2007: Seeing the fall colo(u)rs in the UK was a treat. But they are missing out on my favorite Providence season: wind.

Regardless, both England and Providence smell like mulch. I like it.

Here in India, I stink of sweat. I departed from the cool, English weather only to fly thousand of feet high, arrive in Mumbai, unpack, and see my garment bags and contact saline solution sweat like cold soda cans in the summer sun.

After I checked into my miniature room in Colaba, I immediately got into the shower. If only you had seen it - an actual shower head (rare), a bucket and cup (standard), no toilet paper (depends), and a high ceiling with layers of peeling paint (unreal). I didn't think it was odd, but I just wanted to share because I don't think you would believe I thought so.

Anyway, so I beat the heat by wandering away from the waterfront and the Gateway of India towards the high-end shops - the skin on hotel bones fed from the outdoor pool and squawking bird sanctuary belly.

I decided (since my last trip to India) it's better to stay cheap and eat out rich. I save on merely a clean and secure bed to sleep on to make way for food with better quality and taste. So at this beautiful restaurant in the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel & Tower, the only English conversations I picked up - besides my Economist news fix and my own lips smacking over masala dosa - were of marketing consultants and biomedical engineers.

I wonder, if I were to stay on my same track if things may work out richly in the end. And if I would want an alternate route, well, I could learn Hindi.

Here's a pakora in the face.

Love,
Jackie

Predicate

3 November 2007: Leeds to London and met up with a Brown classmate, Emily (Consultant, Japan/India).


[insert photo: family likeness] After lunch we wandered into the National Portrait Gallery to try to find her grandfather's portrait. Unfortunately the image was recently removed (I explained they were making room for Emily's portrait), but there were paintings, caricatures, and even a bust to be found in the museum computerised archives.

I savored my last night in the UK with my parents over dinner. And fell into a tipsy conversation with my dad about math and logic, of all things, which was actually quite thrilling. (Dork alert).

I'm going to miss my parents terribly, but after meeting Emily's gap year travel buddies for evening drinks, it was reassuring to see healthy supports even all the way around the world.

Belly

2 November 2007: 2nd day in Leeds with Frank (BioMechanics Post-Doc, Philadelphia) and Stephanie (Yoga Instructor, Ohio).

After a morning at Frank's lab at the University of Leeds and a wandering walk to Hyde Park - I rested in the afternoon doing yoga for the first time, ever before the "hat party" tonight.

Frank showed me yoga push ups and four other moving or holding shoulder poses. It was quite tiring, so I was thankful the routine actually concluded with a "yoga nap".

Anyway, it was during that time I felt and explosion in my belly chakra. I disregarded it as gas...

However, when I told Frank, he notified me we were doing Aura yoga, which does target the electromagnetic properties of the gut! Who knew.

As a yoga instructor, Stephanie was delighted to hear of my experience.

Hiya

31 October 2007: Guildford Halloween pub crawl with Jennifer's pub co-workers.

[insert photo: jen/me] I dressed up as: Jen. It was easy - people always say we look practically like twins. I only needed three signifiers: 1) work shirt, 2) cashier card, and 3) the infamous mole.

Waterwall

26 October 2007: LA-like tour, as we visited where the mountains meet the sea.

[insert photo: Go board and lunch] The Maritime Museum was a treat, even though I lost my folks during a self-guided audio tour. Where could they have gone after stop #4 and we're on the same pace? Maybe they're rowing with the reconstructed galley.

Anyway, we met up again and headed to Port Vell for a razor clam, prawn, and calamari lunch where I decidedly beat my father in our daily Go competitions.

[insert photo: fountain] At sunset atop Montjuic, mom and I descended from the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya to watch the Magic Fountain show. I was thrilled to find the van der Rohe Pavillion and touched the Mecca of my HA85 modern architecture course.

I would have liked to have spent more time around the small, winding streets of Poble Sec. People were pouring out of a small tapas bar with drinks in hand and no chairs. Mom could have rolled me home.

Boom

25 October 2007: [insert photo: lunch plate] Went through El Raval and its trio of art centers (MACBA, FAD, CCCB) after a delicious lunch.

Most moving was the MACBA exhibition: Sota la bomba. El jazz de la guerra d’imatges transatlàntica. 1946-1956. I sat on the ground to watch the documentary video archives from the atomic bomb tests on Bikini Atoll.

[insert photo: modern art museum] I was shocked that people passed by the video, instead heading straight to the exhibition paintings on the wall. I guess it's standard museum protocol to look at art, but here's the real thing - right in your face - blast after blast.

Thanks

24 October 2007: In Barcelona, Spain traveling with mom and dad.

[insert photo: Gruell Park] We made arrangements in Guildford, kissed Jen goodbye, and arrived last night. Our hotel is in Gracia, beside Gruell Park and the Gaudi museum. We've spent the morning in the mountains and the park overlooking the city to the sea.

Mom and dad don't know too much about Gaudi and were in awe when we got to his first stone stacked bridge held up by Catalan arches.

[insert photo: sangria mommy] We wandered to Casa Vicens, Mercat de la Libertat, and Placa Ruis i Taulet for dinner where we learned that mom gets soggy over sangria - a double-whammy of alcohol and sugar. We rolled her home.

What's

22 October 2007: A song is playing at the Star Inn, Jen's workplace.

I ask mom:
- Is that Tina Turner?

Mom bursts up and looks out the window:
- Where?!
... Or do you mean the music?

- I mean... there.

Mom bursts up and looks out the window:
- Where?!

[Moments later, referring to the music, of course.]
- I think it is Tina Turner...

Mom bursts up and looks out the window:
- Where?!

Image from: jackie

Orange

13 October 2007: Brahmin temple, Pushkar.

Image from: jackie

Site

13 October 2007:

After two dreamy nights in the romantic lake and hillside city of Udaipur, I arrived last night (Friday) in the religious pilgrimage site of Pushkar, India.

Thursday was a dangerous day in the neighboring village of Ajmer. A bomb killed two people and injured almost two dozen in a Sufi shrine during this time ending Ramadan.

I read reports today that the attack has been linked to an Islamic group, which does not condone the Sufi sect of Islam? Very unclear at this point.

Last night I met up with a group on my same path. We had rooftop beers (neither alcohol nor meat should be consumed in the city, hehe) overlooking a small street center fireworks explosions for the nine day festival of Navratri.

It's odd to experience the improper and even dangerous perversions of seemingly normal behaviours. But overall I feel secure.

Light

11 October 2007: Lake view dinner in Udaipur.

Image from: jackie

Ride

11 October 2007:

My only trouble was a bad fall on my 4 hour horse riding trip through the Udaipur countryside. My Spaniard guide, Pedro, took me out on his first time as a solo guide.

He was happy I had riding experience and we galloped uphill to a lovely lake view. We actually got there in half the typical time, so we ventured off to explore new routes - giving our horses some relief splashing through small streams, teetering through steep rocky mountain declines, and tromping past cows, goats, and excited children.

On the route back we were in an open field. Vamos - I asked Pedro. Vamos? We did.

Problem was the horse knew the left route, Pedro went right, and a wall was in the middle. I got the horse right, but the horse still protested, pulled back and arched left. The horse was still running, I was off on the left side trying to get back center, but lost it, fell and thanked my helmet.

Now I've got a great scabby scrape along my left upper arm, a bit on my back, and a hefty gash on my left forearm. Just what my parents want to see when I meet up with them in the UK for Jen's graduation next week.

Image from: jackie

Uniform

10 October 2007: City Palace lunch view, Udaipur.

Image from: jackie

Snowflake

09 October 2007: The beautifully carved marble pillars in Ranakpur's Jain temple complex.

Image from: jackie

Sands

06 October 2007:

Tonight's stop was a camel safari [in Khuri]. Afternoon ride to sunset stop [70 km from Pakistan].

Dinner under the stars. Only me, the camel driver, the camel, and a wild dog filled with our leftover potatoes and vegetables.

I was looking up at the sky and the driver asked me what I was "remembering".

Image from: jackie

Holy

06 October 2007:

News of local unrest in the heated desert of Jaisalmer.

Yesterday Muslims in a nearby farm killed 22-27 cows. Today all Hindus closed shops, the massive fort (25% of the city), and went on strike.

My hotel is outside the fort walls and I got a bird's eye view of flames near the fort and a mob demanding the school across the street from my hotel to close.

Eventually the school closed. The only things to remain open were health services and the dairy. Around two dozen cows die and they don't even get a day off... Shame.

I'm sure you would have enjoyed the uncertainty and unsettling energy.

Unfortunately the stories were not informative. Something like this: They killed the cows. They killed the cows!

Images from: jackie

Hot

05 October 2007:

Hello -

All is well in India. I've completed a northern route through Rajasthan - Jhunjhunu, Mandawa, Bikaner, and now Jaisalmer. I'm in the Great Thar Dessert and man is it hot.

The only way I can demonstrate how hot is through science... On the drive to Jaisalmer, power transmission lines were sagging lower than I'd ever seen before.

For those of you who are not engineers, that means the electricity pumping through the cables made the wires hot and expand. More people pumping the AC - more sag.

Turns out Bikaner was the first place in Rajasthan state to employ electricity in the early 1800s. Now windmills turn on the horizon in Bada Bagh outside Jaisalmer.

This morning my priority errand in Jaisalmer fort was: breakfast. 25% of people in Jaislamer around found in this "living fort". They must eat.

I found a wonderful, small kitchen run by a darling grandmother. I enjoyed the best masala chai I've had in India so far, while munching on breads, jam, and curd on her balcony. After returning to the narrow market streets the men said I had power because my belly was full.

The first question market workers always ask is: what country? I tell them India. I also try to convince them my name is Radhika Singh Lutyens. They guess I'm from Delhi. They also ask where's Krishna, Radhika's lover, I point to my driver.

More news to come. I hope all is well with each of you.

Best,

Jackie

Mileage

02 October 2007: I arrived last night in Delhi and today arranged a driver, Keshav.

The mileage reads 73,116 km and so begins my travels around Rajasthan, India.

PS: Happy birthday, Gandhi.

Image from: jackie

Red

29 September 2007: Beng Mealea has been twice overrun: once by jungle and previously by the Khmer Rouge.

An official sign declares the temple landmine-free as of September 12th, 2007. Not to worry, there were more locals there than tourists, so I followed the children's safe route clamoring on top of the temple walls.

I enjoyed the sunset at the panoramic hilltop at Phnom Bakheng with a beautifully rich sundown show and afterglow.

And so ends my 3-day Angkor Temple complex pass.

Images from: jackie

Move

28 September 2007: Second evening with Craig (Hong Kong investment banker, Florida).

We met at the temples yesterday and have been meeting for dinners. After tonight's meal we ended up at Angkor What? bar. A rowdy British 21 year old birthday boy was able to meet a challenge - get all 16 people around this corner to go the the club and we'll join you there.

We arrived at the club and saw a parking lot filled with motor scooters. My goodness - it's a local's bar. Craig's driver says there are often fights here.

Inside, surprisingly the women are not scantily clad and no one has dance moves - merely moving. The whole place explodes with excitement during an electronic cover of Vanilla Ice's song, Ice Ice Baby. I search for my nearby exit when people sing Happy Birthday and light hand sparkler fireworks.

Between the lady-boy's high pitch screeching and the girls dancing together, I can sip my drink and enjoy the spectacle. Best, was at the other side of the dance floor where one of Cambodia's best dancers is moving like no other. We are all supremely impressed and Craig's driver notes: He must be from Phnom Penh...

Note

28 September 2007: Sunrise and run at Angkor Wat temple.

Highlight of the day was my 10 AM lunch and nap. I woke up in a hammock with a puppy guarding me.

Favorite temple of the day was Banteay Srey - red stone and beautifully maintained carvings. It was also a refreshing drive through countryside and rice fields.

On the route back I stopped at Sras Srang waterfront. Turns out it is beside the archway I found shelter from the rain yesterday. The market girl spotted me immediately asked me what I wanted to buy (key words emphasized).

She made offers in her Jamaican-sounding accent and so did I:
- I want to buy Cambodia.
- I would nev-ah sell ma kon-tree.

After looking at the waterfront site I returned to her market stand. She approached me with a pair of trousers. Incessant this one.

I met her whole crew. She did most of the talking for her group, then suddenly spoke Khmer to point out out my blood donation band aid. Her mom looked up at me slowly, stood up, and offered me her chair. The girl noted: for free...

Images from: jackie

Wat

27 September 2007:

My thousand words on Angkor Wat temple:

Image from: jackie

Drop

27 September 2007: There are so many temples to see in this burning heat.

Highlight of the day was Ta Prohm (a la Tomb Raider fame). The jungle is slowly gnawing it's way through the complex. Many collapsed walls and ceilings have blocked passageways, making this large temple seem much smaller - yet more like an adventure.

I got to the famous postcard image tree and surprisingly few people were there.

Next highlight of the day was the funniest and best English speaking Khmer girl in all of Cambodia. I met her when a massive downpour outside Banteay Kdei sent children, cows, and me seeking shelter in a small gateway. She wouldn't stop trying to sell me souvenirs in her Jamaican sounding accent - pure entertainment:

- What you want?
- Silence.
- Okay, I give you one minute peace and quiet to tink ova my t-shirt offer.

Images from: jackie

Pool

26 September 2007: Boat ride through the floating village to Tonle Sap lake.

The floating village has unsettling juxtaposition - children paddling in metal tubs beside massive floating restaurants, as well as run down floating platform houses boasting massive stereo equipment.

Currently the rainy season, drowned trees expose only thin branches tickling the air. Big wake from large boats send shock waves through the floating mangroves. The brown water recedes to a shore strip, barely allowing passage for people walking their motorcycles.

Tonle Sap lake is the largest lake in Southeast Asia. A truly un-earthly feel...

My favorite was the floating billiards bar. If you miss your shot, you can always jump up and down.

Image from: jackie

Friends

26 September 2007: I would give my blood, and more, to Angkor Hospital for Children.

The hospital serves 350 children each day - free of charge. They treat upper respiratory infections, dengue fever, emergencies, surgeries...

Arun Sinketh (Public Relations) gave me the tour - starting with the machine shop run by Va Morgan. I also saw their medical training facility, outreach center, in-patient ward, out-patient ward, IC unit, surgery, laboratory, waiting hall, kitchen...

It's a small facility with only x-ray and ultrasound, but Angkor Hospital for Children provides a great service to all Cambodia. This year they had to face a greater volume of patients with dengue fever - for some reason an outbreak happens every four years, the last in 2003.

I saw a tiny 26 day old child being treated for upper respiratory infection - the most common medical problem of patients at the hospital. Va told me how to wish the child good health in Khmer.

And I donated blood. Turns out my blood type is in high demand - it's even the same type as the nurse who collected my blood.

Afterwards I met up with Mark (British chef and IT) for an afternoon trip to Tonle Sap lake.

The first thing his driver said to me was that I look like a man. (Maybe I am a spy.) I told him to be nice - I gave blood today.

He then thanked me and said that was a very good thing - I could help his daughter. Good, I thought, maybe she would consider me a blood brother.

Image from: jackie

Open

Hey Mark and Liz -

Yesterday I flew on a tiny propellered fish painted airplane to arrive at Siem Reap. I'll be wandering around today to sweat and see what's Wat.

Like most places I travel to, Cambodia's weather reminds me of Hawaii. However, I've never seen a red sun forcing it's way through cloudlines towards a palm tree lined horizon quite like that before. Clem, my airport taxi scooter driver, was zooming along and I sat with the wind through my hair having only felt the sky as big on Vermont's Lake Champlain.

In the next few days I hope to get out further in that magical land. And don't worry - I'll stay on paths to avoid land mines.

When I get out to the Angkor Hospital for Children, I'll be sure to drop your names and see if any Brown folks are still working there - doing as you two awesome people have done so well.

Thanks again for the advice and I hope each of you are doing well.

Best,
Jackie

Beatles

24 September 2007: Hello (soo-a s'day) Cambodia, Goodbye (sayonara) Claire, Lauren, Tomo, and Japan.

Image from: jackie

Battle

23 September 2007: Here are my Sumo Tournament highlights:

During the Yokozuna (highest rank) ceremonial entrance, Hakuho did an awesome rise from a stomp where he worked his feet slowly inside and out while edging forward, bit by bit.

Most winners were from one ringside and most wins were by pushing the wrestler out of the ring. However, there were two ring double-toss outs where judges had to decide the winner, a few flip overs, a few pull/slap down belly flops, and my favorite - a bull fighter getting out of the way of a charging train that never had his eyes on his opponent. These men are nimble dump trucks with strong arms.

After Hakuho won the tournament, he rode out on a car, while all the other sumo walk, taxi, or train out. I turned to look around and found a sumo wrestler and his guard walking beside me.

He was being followed by a crowd and, eventually, lights and a television camera. I put out my hand and asked him: Thumb wrestle?

He gave me a quizzical look and kept walking. Drat.

I should have prepped: Yubi sumo? He was probably intimidated by my mighty yokozuna.

Images from: jackie

Engage

23 September 2007: Where do all the big breasted sweaty people in Tokyo go?

To the final day of the Ryogoku Kokugikan Grand Sumo Tournament - of course!

I'm shocked how they casually these massive men enter the South gate, while standing out so painfully. They arrive on foot (pictured), the arrive by car (dwarfing the taxi to a clown car), and they take the metro. Everyone loves them.

Today is the final tournament day - I'm in box seats, 15th row with an Australian, Denise. I wandered around the stadium first. This is awesome. Lower rank matches have been going on since the morning, senior wrestlers end the evening's bouts.

The routine is simple, routine, and long... The wrestlers are sung into the ring, enter from their respective sides, and stomp out bad spirits. They step outside to their ringside partners to receive water (only from the previous bout's winner) and re-enter the ring throwing salt.

They face each others, squat, and slowly raise their arms to a clap above their heads. Stomp. And exit again. Another salt toss from the outside, next squat - fists to the ground.

Outside salting #3 and inside squat. At this point, the crowd is done with the tease and begins to bellow as they head back out to their sides of the ring - salting 4 - and then... fight!

Images from: jackie

Wear

22 September 2007: Early morning start to beat the heat.

Kiyomizudori has beautiful wooden stilt supports and a great view of Kyoto. The massive wooden structure has been repeatedly rebuilt. Claire's favorite.

The side streets walk to Kodaiji Temple is rich with stone paved streets and elegant homes. Along the main road I finally saw three geisha - only Kyoto still has geisha. The temple area was more spread out than others, but had a great feel due to the bamboo thickets and temple chanting next door.

Down to Fushimi Inari shrine and paths of orange gates, the South Africans tell me all about it. We ran into each other near the train - I am not a spy.

Image from: jackie

Refresh

21 September 2007: I'm completely relaxed on my metro ride back to the city, even though I just saw these four women naked.

Kurama onsen (baths) did the trick: sauna with incense, outdoor hot springs, Japanese showers. It was a tiny stool, but a blessed muscle relief after climbing the mountain to Kurama-dera.

Back in the city bus stop, I got to talking with an Irishman, Brendan. Turns out he knows Claire though the JET Program. He invited me to join him, 2 Japanese guys, and 2 British girls at ING bar in Gion. My first time joining up with a group when I've been traveling on my own.

I got back grinning and brimming with Sapporo and was welcomed back to my house by two awesome South Africans.

Sights

21 September 2007: In much need of solo time, I head to the ancient Japanese capital, Kyoto.

I preferred Konchi-in rock garden to Nanzen-ji because it was the most beautiful experience in-the-round.

Sosui aqueduct (pictured) opened up beautiful brick arches above hovering branches and stone walkways.

Eikando Temple was awesome. The garden pond was busy and the walkway roofs were low, but the best woodwork and trees and temple and space and pagoda set in the mountainside. Also, it is beside a grade school and you can hear the children playing and laughing!

After lunch I was about to begin the Path of Philosophy, Tetsu-gaku-no-michi, when I bump into my Tokyo hotel dorm-mate. I would not make a good spy.

Image from: jackie

Art

20 September 2007: Benesse Art Site - Naoshima.

Despite the heat, there were cool sights to see: Minamidera "Backside of the Moon" light effects by James Turrell felt like walking into never ending space, even though we were in a Tadao Ando building.

Claire and Lauren make the first guard Hachiman Shrine from the beginning, a, to the end, n.

Image from: jackie

Feet Turrell

19 September 2007: Naosaima Island and the Chichu Art Musuem with Claire and Lauren.

Happy Birthday, Claire!

Image from: jackie

Feet Coach

18 September 2007: Coaching at Kyoyama School with Lauren and Claire.

Image from: jackie

Teacher

18 September 2007: Bike ride to Claire's school, Kyoyama.

The bike ride was a blessed relief from the heat. The students here must swelter - they stay in the same classrooms - the teachers come to them!

We met the principal and staff after a warm welcome. Together the three of us gave a quick lesson in translation: Claire in English, Lauren in Swahili, and me in Spanish. We were accepted with the universal sign of I don't know - the smile and nod.

After school, students participate in mandatory clubs. I was thrilled walking around campus, peering into the basketball and ping pong gym, hearing brass band music all over campus, watching baseball boys outside in the dirt, cheering dance performances, and coaching swim team.

We also got to meet up with one of Claire's buddies, Emi, the school gym teacher and very effective Judo instructor. Check it out.

Images from: jackie

Reader

18 September 2007: Lunch with Claire's Japanese mothers.

One mom frames paper scrolls with Japanese characters. I ask her if there is any character whose image is considered most beautiful or wabi-sabi.

To my surprise she responds that the character has been lost - now most people instead only know Kanji, used for foreign words.

Lesson

17 September 2007: Japanese karaoke is a great way to learn.

I learned karaoke in Japan is totally different from karaoke in America. Instead of a free performance space at an American bar, Japanese karaoke is in a paid, private room.

I learned Japanese by pairing the sounds with characters. We later got home and Claire gave Lauren and I a more complete lesson in Hiragana and Katakana.

I also got to teach English through Styx: Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto...

Green

17 September 2007: Off to the Okayama countryside to visit Claire's friends, Sara and Shuzo, at Wallabis Farm.

The 100 year old Japanese farm house, rice fields, and vegetable garden will soon find the addition of a bread shop. After our fresh lunch we heard stories about other ways in which the countryside has changed.

Their 80 year old neighbors no longer cultivate the forests, which have now become overrun with bamboo. Even wild boars are coming off the hills into the garden. Hunters follow and electric fences are turned on.

Walking around the garden, Lauren's in her ecology element.

Image from: jackie

Plans

16 September 2007: In Yoyogi Park beside Harajuku and Meiji Shrine I met two guys on opposite paths of my host, Claire (Rhubarb a la Mode).

The Melbourne natives plan on teaching English in Japan for 3 years, while Claire taught English through the JET Program for 3 years. The guys are hopeful.

I also told them she's now heading to Melbourne. They were impressed. But this is where their paths diverged...

- What's your mate gonna do in Melbourne?
- She's going to meditate.
- ???

Image from: anthonygrimley

Asakusa

16 September 2007: I am proud to report I have the largest breasts in Japan.

I also sweat the most - it must be a gland thing...

In the marketplace beside Sensoji Temple I snapped a clear picture without foot traffic in front of me. Possible because I was on the open air side, while everyone else was below the market AC vents.

Image from: jackie

Dateline

15 September 2007: 29 pounds prepared for 5 months.

Check-in and security went quickly and easily at Los Angeles International. At the gate I met a group of martial artists bound to compete in Shanghai. Restless already, they were doing stretches.

The plane left on time. 1h 20m into the flight, a smoker was caught in the bathroom. Restless already.

I got some sleep on the 12h flight.

Image from: manganite

Theme

8 September 2007: The first half of my trip includes Japan and India - please enjoy my travel theme with a good sound system.

The video features Zakir Hussain on tabla and a Japanese Takio drummer. Also, for the uninitiated, here is a tabla lesson.

Plot

2 September 2007: My elementary school and high school sandwich not only UCLA, but the resting place of Marilyn Monroe.

I never knew Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery even existed. Yet there she lies...

Groucho Marx expressed a desire to be buried on top of Marilyn Monroe. He also joked that his epitaph should read: Excuse me, I can't stand up.

However, his mausoleum marker (in another Los Angeles County cemetery) bears only: Groucho Marx 1890-1977. Similar to Marilyn's crypt: Marilyn Monroe 1926-1962.

The craved spot above her, instead goes to Richard F. Poncher.

What about the unoccupied spot available beside her? It's reserved for Hugh Hefner.

Image from: cinema ieti

Shot

28 August 2007: Last bits of my world travel plans are coming together - one day at a time - like my typhoid vaccine pill.

Tetanus, polio, typhoid, Japanese encephalitis, and malaria... Destination: Cambodia.

Visa

25 August 2007: Indian visa camp epic.

I waited four hours to turn in my visa application and passport. I had lunch in little India with friends I made in line. I waited two hours to pick up my newly approved visa and passport.

Never again.

The Cambodian EVisa, Australia ETA, and the New Zealand working holiday visa are the way to go.

Positive

23 August 2007: I am not one of the chosen twelve, rather I was the first juror dismissed.

If you want to know why, call me. I can tell you the story over vegan tamales at Cafe de Souso in Olvera Street.

Peers

22 August 2007: I'm back in LA because it's my civic duty.

25 jurors are called to the County of Los Angeles traffic court. We swear an oath and hear the case allegations: driving under the influence and driving with a blood alcohol content above the legal limit.

Each juror answers basic questions. Then the judge questions us: do we donate to MADD, have we been involved in a case regarding DUI, is our business in alcohol production or distribution, do we know law enforcement officers, lawyers, judges...

Each time we respond affirmatively, the judge asks that all too important question - will it influence our ability to hear this case?

The ranges of experience are really astounding. I almost feel like I'm on trial. Please enjoy my mug shot.

Image from: jaxpix50

Long

21 August 2007: Family field trip to watch the blue whale.

We found her filter feeding along a trench outside Long Beach harbor. A member of the biggest animals ever club, Tallulah did not fail to impress.

She would evacuate her blog hole, roll a chorus line of vertebrae above the water, and then expose her diminutive dorsal fin (located 3/4 along the length of her body) before diving to feed. Repeat. It was plenty to see.

She would stay under for 7 minutes, leaving me free to sing sailing songs. My favorite treat was seeing her flukes underwater glowing blue-white.

Image from: jackie

Melt

12 August 2007: Family field trip to Wicked the musical at the Pantages theatre.

While reading the book I became intrigued with Elphaba's relationship with other women characters. Besides Elphaba/Glinda, my particular interests focused on the connection with her mother, Melena.

I found their mother-daughter relationship so caustic, I suspect Elphaba's aversion to water began during her gestation - burning in the fluid of her mother's womb...

Image from: *sean

Grads

It's a family 3-way graduation party today.

3 sisters have earned degrees: Jennifer (the eldest daughter) in theatre, Jessica (the middle daughter) in international affairs, and me (the youngest daughter) in engineering.

I got to say grace before the meal, which included a reading of my letter to God (returned today).

I could have also read my diploma, but it's written in Latin.

Image from: erik_found

Membership

Tonight was Vanessa's birthday gathering in the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel.

Nina and her older sister, Vanessa, are two daughters amongst a total of 17 siblings. Most of the birthdays in their family occur in August - including the father's birthday this weekend.

A family friend joined us late in the evening. Once he was introduced to everyone at the table he proudly reported - tonight he's finally made 17.

Immediately, the siblings present stood up, congratulated him, and shook his hand.

Image from: Mary Carmen SVI

Letter

Dear God:

Mt 6:9-13.


Love always,
Jackie

ADDRESS SERVICE REQUESTED

Image from: erik_found

Pacific

LA's been too earthquakey - I'm seeking refuge in the sky.

Last night at 12:58 AM, a magnitude 4.5 earthquake moderately shook my household awake. We're all fine.

It was the first earthquake my family has experienced together since the 6.4 Northridge earthquake, which destroyed this very same home in 1994, now rebuilt in 2000. We reminisced.

I also hopped on USGS to get the latest scoop. Turns out the Pacific Rim has been busy. Yesterday, Java suffered a 7.5 earthquake and 30 seconds after tonight's quake a 5.1 earthquake hit Tonga.

Good thing I received my passport today, but too bad I won't escape...

Image from: USGS