Onward to the mighty Mekong delta

Oh, how slow are border crossings, bus transfers, and cramped local buses that only stop once in six hours for a toilet break, and that's because they break down! 12 hours of travel, supposedly worse than usual due to Tet, but I'm not convinced.  Travel in southeast Asia is much less terrible if you are shorter! Check out my photo of my leg room on the bus, which was packed to the limit, with people sitting on stools in the aisles. I found this completely normal after Cambodia and Nepal!

On our journey, Quinh and I met Alex from Austria, and I re-united with Monica, who I met in Siem Reap. After 12 hours of travel, the four of us landed in Can Tho. Quinh (named 'Dongmama' after she gave me a loan until I found an ATM) was ready to attack the local delicacies of the Mekong. Armed with her Vietnamese, she spoke at length with a tour guide on our bus, who later that evening took us all to the best place for this local pork spring roll thing that's dried in the morning dew. Mm, you can taste the sunrise!

The next morning, we were at the pier at 6:45, where we hired a local boat and headed to the market. The market was great! In our little boat, we floated right in the thick of things (vs the bigger tourist boats), and Quinh ordered us noodle soups spiced surely with a drop of the secret ingredient that makes it taste best in Vietnam: Mekong water! (we are pretty sure washing the bowl entailed dipping it in the river as we boated away, yuck). The coffee vendors were aggressive, with one guy u-turning when he saw us, then pulling alongside, hooking his boat to ours, and selling us always-delicious (it's the sweetened condensed milk) Vietnamese coffee.

After Can Tho (which I forgot to mention was decked in lights and flowers for Tet), Alex, Monica, and I headed to a homestay on an island off Vinh Long. This was such a lovely experience, as the island was peaceful countryside with friendly locals and paths for only bikes and motos (scooters).  We biked around, at one point following drum sounds to find local children practicing a dragon dance for Tet. They were adorable and invited Alex to be a dragon, upon which the 3-year-old dragon-teaser decided to beat the crap out of him!  We filmed the whole thing of course, and rode on past fruit trees including, oh boy, durian! We capped off the visit by stocking up on Tet candy and having the best pork noodle soup from a cute little old lady cafe owner.

Laid-back times in southern Cambodia

I seem to have trouble leaving Cambodia: I continue to book tickets to Vietnam, only to change them last-minute for another Cambodia destination.  Maybe it's the cheap prices, laid-back vibe, friendly people, ora combination of these three.  Either way, this behavior resulted in stops at Kampot and Koh Rong on Cambodia's coast, and I'm so glad it did!

Kampot is a small river town surrounded by cave-riddled countryside and an abundance of river spirit. I took a 'firefly cruise', and motoring upriver, beer in hand, as the sun set had already made the trip worthwhile.  As darkness fell, however, the trees along the river lit up in firefly displays and, combined with the phosphorescent algae in the river twinkling like fairy dust as you brush your hands through, created a magical, otherworldly effect.

The next day I visited some local caves, where school children earn extra money by acting as guides. My guide was 14-year old Linda, who showed me secret passages to bat-filled caverns! Linda was funny, smart, mature, and had a healthy command of the English language, and I was really impressed by her. My tuk tuk driver told me the poorer children can't pay for the whole day at school so might work the caves. I think Linda has what it takes to make a bright future for herself. She's also very political, calling me 'sister' when clearly I'd be 'aunty'! :P

The next day, again changing a ticket, I packed in 10 minutes and boarded a bus to Koh Rong with Quinh, a woman I met at breakfast. This set off about 4 days of pure, hilarious adventure! She and I picked up a Swiss woman in her 50s on the boat to Koh Rong, a small beach island, and the three of us booked the last bungalow on the beach! A motley crew indeed, 2 bay area women, one Vietnamese-American in her late 30s, one white American, and Ruth: I think the bartender wasn't sure what to make of us, being so different from the average trio of 20-something blonde backpacker!  Nonetheless, we explored long beach, a stretch of endless white-sand-meets-turquoise-sea after a harrowing hike over the mountain (straight-up and down, and so eroded and steep they have installed ropes for you to guide yourself on). I loved the hike, but Ruth was less amused! We also explored the regular beach, which I'll call short beach for continuity, and by explored I mean we drank fruit shakes and sun-bathed.

Quinh and I left Koh Rong for Vietnam together, spending the last night in sihoukeville. This is Cambodia's beach destination. With the beach-front bars, throngs of people, music, and revelry, this beach reminded me of the Florida beaches I grew up with.  I thoroughly enjoyed our $6 fish dinner on the sand, capped with me lighting a flying paper lantern and Quinh lighting fireworks that we bought from children who harassed us while we ate.

Jungles and rubber plantations in eastern Cambodia

After an inspired time in Kratie, I decided to venture further from the tourist trail, and thus headed to Ban Lung, home to minority tribes and jungle, the latter of which is disappearing to rubber plantations.  Lonely planet encouraged visiting sooner rather than never.

On the minibus ride I met a hilarious French man, a Brit, and an American girl, and we became fast friends.  Day 1 of Ban Lung entailed renting motorbikes and visiting the local waterfalls. Biking around, the extent of the deforestation was alarming.  I began considering what I use rubber for, and realized it's pretty darn important in modern society, which doesn't bode well for the jungle.

Day 2 we headed into the jungle with our guide, a self-described "jungle boy" and local villager who spoke lovely English. The jungle itself reminded me of, say, a hilly Florida, but our guide was such fun, serenading us with his own Cambodian version of Maroon 5's "One more night" (which sounds surprisingly like the English version!), and showing us how to launch a tall grass stalk cannon-style, that the lackluster jungle didn't fail to impress.  We tasted edible plants and visited a local fisherman's hut, where rats in a basket (tasty?) gave insight into how someone lives in the jungle.

The direct contrast between the jungle and the rubber plantations highlights the differences between an ecosystem and a farm.  It's not only the locals who lose their jungle livelihoods when the forest is cleared, but also the animals, and ourselves through a loss of ecological (and, with endangered species, evolutionary) complexity.  I'm not trying to be preachy and don't blame the countries with jungles left to destroy and jungle minorities left to displace for wanting to develop, but I see more blatantly the costs of modern life nearer to the source. 

Armed with my micro101 learnings, I pondered this problem and decided that ecological variety is a common good, whose survival benefits and is the burden of the entire planet.  A solution I always love is including environmental costs in end costs (ie that rubber should include costs for preserving lands from rubber plantations), though this faces the same issue as all common goods and environmental costs: how do you monetize it? In line with this thinking, I begin my sustainable development Coursera class today, and I will continue elaborating on this as I learn more!

Whew, ok let's wrap up this post! We finished up our Ban Lung visit by attending a local "concert" at the town football stadium. We were the only foreigners there, and seemed the whole town turned up for the ferris wheel, carnival games, terrible live music, and fairly ridiculous carnival foods! I'm sad I left my camera out of fear it'd be stolen, but I will say there were baskets, big full baskets of bugs: fried, boiled, not sure, glistening in the light of the food stalls.  The carnival game prizes included, along with the usual oversize stuffed bear, cooking bowls, cookies, and everyone's favorite prize: shampoo. 

Sorry for lack of photos! My memory stick has a virus, so working on that!

Community-based Ecotourism: let the definition begin

Siem reap was mostly about temples and hanging out with my guest house pals and Ira, the professor in ancient civilisations from New York who I befriended (what a find when exploring ancient temples!). I decided to explore a 'community-based ecotourism' initiative near town, as this is a popular theme in many of the places I'm visiting, and it matches my interests in sustainability.

Billed as a boat trip to a floating village, it turned out to be overpriced and not eco at all: they put only a pair of tourist on each 20-seater diesel-powered boat (so 10 very empty boats vs 1 full one) and plowed through the canals of mangroves, causing large waves, sounds, and smells. I was convinced it wasn't community-oriented either as the people looked terribly poor despite the price gouging by the "investor" company.  As they were fishing right out of the diesel-laden waters, I assume my presence impacted them negatively. As I rode back, frustrated by the misuse of words I love, I decided the poor endangered Irriwaddy dolphin is a goner if this is Cambodian ecotourism.

The next day I saw a circus of high schoolers as part of an NGO that takes poor, often street, kids and gives them education and circus training. The performances provide them a salary and support the school. After seeing poor children peddling all over Siem Reap instead of attending school, I was happy to believe this "community-based" effort was providing a chance at a better life for these kids.

And so, unwilling to allow one scam to make me a non-believer, I headed north to Kratie to check out their efforts via the "Mekong discovery trail," an initiative to attract tourists to the river environs and dolphins, thus providing a reason to protect them.  The "trail" is basically paths and dirt roads used by locals, but now featuring a few homestays, signs, and a pamphlet. I rented a $1.50 "local bike" (think a beach cruiser with bad breaks) and started peddling  past fields, tons of kids yelling "hello!", wats, stilt houses, and markets.  I had a wonderful time. Everyone I interacted with, from the farmer whose field I ended up in (the signage is not amazing) to the ladies selling the sticky rice cooked in bamboo, was friendly and genuine. It was a welcome feeling to be low-impact (eco) and interacting with a community, not just polluting it as I pass through taking photos.

I'm actually very interested in sustainable development, and will start a coursera class on the topic in a week! As I travel through places which are in various states of development and many of which house rich and rare ecosystems, I feel it's a topic that will easily compliment, and be complimented by, my travels. Let the learning continue!

Pics include some temples, siem reap pals, bike ride in Kratie followed by happy hour ("happy sunset") dinner overlooking the Mekong.

Landing in Phnom Penh

After deliberating for days over heading next to Indonesia or Indochina (I know, it's tough...), I decided on Phnom Penh, and soon found myself on a tuk tuk ride through the cool night air, the smell of river and street food stall wafting by. The people were out in force, walking, eating, shopping after work, and the laid-back energy instantly captivated me. 

The next day I set out to see the sights via my favorite means: trekking!  I dipped into a local market, where I saw fish being prepared on wood slabs on the ground, making me question the sanity of my fish-soup lunch, and saw a man pull up on a motorcycle to deliver rods with live chickens hanging off them.  Emboldened by the street food adventures of Malaysia, I sat at a popular street stall to enjoy some noodle soup full of bona fide mystery meat. Let's just say, the imagination is stronger than the sense of culinary adventure!

I am, of course, adding a level to my video game: In addition to "Kathmandu Taxi", it will have to have "Phnom Penh tuk tuk", both of which will feature bonus points for head-on near misses.

Merry Christmas from Foodalasia!

I'm spending Christmas with my buddy Adele and her family in Malaysia.  Initially, the modern amenities, humid heat, flat terrain, and daily afternoon thunderstorms reminded me of Florida, albeit a Florida with a very different ethnic and religious mix: Malaysia is a Muslim country (with Syriah law such that it's punishable if a Muslim drinks alcohol but not me-this is new!). I'm told that, outside of the cities, the culture is less western.

Malaysia is apparently a cuisine hot spot, as the country is home to Chinese, Indian, Malay, and a host of other ethnicities, lending to delicious fusions and influences to what are already some of my favorite cuisines.  We eat about 5 meals a day, my favorite being the shave ice desserts! Just imagine, shaved ice topped in fruit, cream, coconut milk, ice cream, peanuts, tapioca jellies, the list goes on.  It's no coincidence I also love these because it's so hot outside!  The pancake concoctions could easily be the next SF hipster trend, and the myriad of noodle dishes is pretty epic.

I've met numerous family and seen Adele interacting with her parents:  priceless!  We attended midnight mass (the message had something to do with selfies and politically-sanctioned racism, so I was intrigued) , went Christmas shopping in a Muslim country (most enjoyable Christmas eve shopping ever!), and her parents threw a lovely Christmas dinner, where due to my lack of nice backpacking attire, I got to wear the top of one of Adele's old Punjabi suits! 

For excursions, we roamed the (mega!)malls and Hindu caves of Kuala Lumpur and sought out street art in Penang.  At night Adele and I like to visit the local river walk, where a lively scene makes for a lovely way to keep off my nasi lemak pounds.  Plus, new lit things keep being added, so we must stay abreast of the latest. Today: Chinese lanterns!

Year anew

Once a year the world stops for a moment to pay homage to the year that has passed and celebrate the possibilities of the year to come.

Having a loved one battle a terminal illness felt, to me, like trying to hold hourglass sand in your hands.  Even if you succeed at first, at some point the sand falls faster and faster. You try to squeeze your fingers together, but it only slips through faster and faster.

And then your hands are empty. All the sand is gone.

I bid adieu to 2013 and humbly, yet boldly, hope 2014 is kinder.