Just some pics

Overdue Blog Post

Clearly I’m failing at maintaining my blog. It’s been about a month and I can’t honestly say that I’ve been too busy to share an update. In fact I fill many of my days with movies and downloaded television as Shanghai is limiting to those without school, a job or income. With that said, I think it’s about time to share what I’ve been up to. And why not write as I sit in seat 76L from Shanghai to Beijing? In just over an hour I will meet my dad and my sister Martha!! Plus, I’ll take any excuse to focus my eyes away from the ghastly pollution to which I’m currently contributing.

For now, I’ll do my best to catch you up on some adventures.

Hong Kong: This four-day jaunt was enough to add Hong Kong to the “would live there,” list of places. I can’t tell you how long that list is but San Francisco is way ahead of the rest. Hong Kong also got a little bit of a boost by being the first place I visited after two months of the cold, gray, crowded cacophony of Shanghai.

Still, blue water, clear skies and rolling green hills will get me any time. I never would have guessed that hiking would fill nearly two full days, but Hong Kong offers gorgeous natural views that rival the famous skyline. Traveling with four UNC MBAs and a fellow Rosser, I managed to have a few adventures. Some of those adventures were fueled by our over-exuberance at Hong Kong duty free. Tired of overpriced Shanghai drinks, three of us each bought a bottle of scotch. Night one found our crew pre-gaming for a pub-crawl and my waking up alone in our Air Bnb apartment. I had our one key while not having either of the local sim cards. Leaving the crowd at 3am and getting a bit lost on the way home, I still arrived first. An hour-long nap on the front stoop wasn’t enough so I went to bed. I woke up in a panic a few hours later to a still-empty apartment and some panic-stricken emails.

We were all reunited a few hours later with smiles, stories and piece-meal memories…

Uh-oh it’s meal time and the massive man next to me is really getting into the beef noodles. I’ll close up shop and be back momentarily…

…In closing my laptop, I allowed my entire meal tray to slide between my armrest and the wall. After a little go-go gadget arm, I got to enjoy listening to my neighbor burp, slurp, snort and cough his way through lunch.

I’ll have to let some pictures sum up the rest of Hong Kong. There was a lot of walking, eating and on-street drinking enjoyed. Sadly, my departure may have been the most eventful part of the Hong Kong travel leg. On two hours sleep, I arrived for an 8am flight. Despite my confirmation code, my flight was not on the books and as it turned out, would not have been honored anyway. In order to fly to the Philippines, one must also have a departure ticket. With my Philippine disappearance act foiled, my hung-over, exhausted self had to navigate budget airline websites on spotty smartphone wifi. Many wasted dollars and hours later, I arrived in Manila in my jeans, fake vans and t-shirt (I didn’t anticipate Manila when packing a suitcase in January Ann Arbor).

Philippines: Roughly $15 got me shorts, sandals, sunglasses and two meals (I snagged a free hostel shower) as I waited for our final companion. Finally, with our four remaining travelers (myself and the three UNC dudes), reunited, it was time to keep moving. Rather than waste time and money on lodging, we hopped on an overnight bus to Banaue and the rice terraces.

We arrived the following morning and after a quick breakfast, our trek began. Sharing a jeepney with six other travelers, we got a few kilometers before delays began. Narrow roads, mud and heavy jeepneys gave us an extra hour to chat and enjoy the scenery before reaching the start of our hike. My quadriceps did not know what I was getting into.

The hike started with 432 stairs downward. We continued downward for another hour or two, meandering through mind-bogglingly beautiful rice terraces to our oasis, frigid water at the base of a 40-meter waterfall. 90-degree heat, equatorial humidity, fake vans and polyester shorts (already torn in the crotch) make a cold swim feel REALLY nice. As I’m sure many of you have realized, a long downhill hike in oppressive heat makes for a much slower return. The ascent was filled with wobbly legs and blank stares as we trudged along. Some fellow travelers sported shower shoes, sweat pants or blue jeans, making my counterfeit outfit seem wise. Needless to say, the final 432 stairs were absolutely torturous. Dehydrated and exhausted, I was greeted by a coconut seller with $1 electrolyte-rich goodness. An hour jeepney ride, a rushed shower and 20 agonizing stairs later and the four of us were back on an overnight bus to Manila. Though the budget traveler in me always prefers to combine travel with lodging, this was pushing it. My seat partner and I were each at least 20% wider than our respective seats and my knees jabbed painfully into the metal seat in front of me. Still, with a shirt tied around my face, I managed to sleep much of the way to Manila.

In Beijing now…

Out of China

I'll do my best to make up for lost time. I'm a bit braindead at the moment but have both free internet and time to kill so will do my best with what I have. At 4:30am yesterday, I woke up in Bohol, Philippines. A bit past 5am, a fellow traveler and I joined a 3 hour, very SLOW boat ride to Oslob, the place we'd been trying to locate for several days.

We knew that we were in whaleshark migration season and through some research determined that Bohol would be a good place to get some beach time and whaleshark swimming. Upon arrival in Oslob, we were helped ashore and ushered to a payment table. Naturally, we thought that we HAD paid. The payment we made for "whaleshark tour," was just for the ride across the water. We paid again for the actual swim, a bit more for some fins/masks, some more safe storage of our things and we were ready to go.

A small outrigger canoe-type (similar in stlye, smaller in size to the one we took across the water) picked us up an took us 40 meters to shore where we saw the first of many whalesharks. Abiding be the rules not to touch, ride or otherwise contact the beasts, we got the experience we'd paid for. Roughly a dozen swimmers twisted, turned and photographed all around the baby (ONLY about 25 feet long) whalesharks as locals fed buckets of krill directly into the gaping mouths of the animals. Underwater, one could hear the faint sound of bells and clicks as the handlers maintained the Pavlovian relationship that helped to build the attraction.

By later morning, the whalesharks would go to deeper water to live their normal lives, only to return for their breakfast with tourists. For some reason, I had the impression that we would take boats into the natural migratory path of whale sharks. We would put our faith in the skills of whaleshark trackers who would locate and follow them. At the right moment, we would be allowed to jump in and swim alongside the majestic animals as they continued toward their next home. Either way, it was pretty cool to swim with a giant whaleshark; seeing the suction created as it inhaled bucket after bucket while simultaneously spewing any excess via undulating gills the schools of tropical fish that surrounded. I also can't help to be a bit happy that each step along the tourist trap trail got a bit of the take. While I like to place myself more on the traveler side of the traveler-tourist spetrum, there is no doubt that certain events or activities will appeal to me.

An example of my traveler side is the bus ride that I took immediately following my snorkeling adventure. Slowly drying off, I sat in a bamboo bus terminal with three men as they chatted away. I was nearly dry when the bus arrived and paid the equivalent of $3.50 for a 3-hour, 150km coastal ride. Thirty minutes in, I was joined by a friendly man who quickly sparked up a conversation. The man was 82-years old and spoke at length about his experiences in the US. Having noticed my favorite moringa trees in the yard of nearly every home we passed, I couldn't help but ask what it was called and how it was used in the area. Muringue (best guess at spelling), was recommended by health experts and helps supplement the diets of communities on Cebu. We asked each other questions, talked politics a bit and eventually fell asleep. I learned that a daily wage on Cebu (one of the southern islands of the Philippines) for basic work is roughly 250 pesos per day (40 pesos to the dollar). Many families have 4-5 children and support themselves by fishing or unskilled jobs.

The man told me about the growing drug problem in Cebu. After asking me if the US had legalized drugs, he said that youth are spending 150 pesos to buy one (insert snorting action he made) for a drug that makes them feel like they're in heaven. He talked about how the drug came from China and is causing increased violence (I think heroin?). We talked about the common practice of western men moving to the Philippines, marrying young, uneducated filipinas and living like kings. Neither of us like the idea much, though we can see the appeal for each party. He pointed out several cliffside mansions owned by Americans, asking if I thought Obama would be re-elected. I let him in on the news update and listened as he proudly played a few 50s songs from his wireless Mp3 speaker. We both complained about body pains after napping (I felt way too much kinship with a man more than 50 years my senior) and he went on his way.

My day continued through horrendous Cebu City traffic to the airport. A delayed one-hour flight to Manila, a 3-hour layover and a 3.5 hour flight to Singapore got me here at 1am. Some 2am McDonalds and a decent floor sleep have brought me to this 7:30am post. I'm still salty (physically) from my swim with the whalesharks nearly 24 hours ago and won't be in Bangkok for another 7 hours (sorry plane neighbors). Though these days stress me out at times, a free blood pressure test in Cebu City confirmed that I'm solidly at 110/80. I'll update on Hong Kong, other Philippine adventures and my next plans soon. Perhaps within an hour or so as I have plenty of time to kill.

Photos will be added at some point.

School days wrapped up

Today is my last day of class!! I’ve exclaimed, “Last class ever!” multiple times in the past and been wrong so I’ll avoid saying it again. Funny enough, my last class is going on right now and I’m at home getting ready for the same class.

Maybe it’s fitting that I’ve accidentally missed my last class of business school. I stopped updating this blog when I started business school in 2010 after three years abroad. There is little doubt in my mind that I was among the least prepared people among my classmates.

I had only used Powerpoint once, when I got a C in a biology assignment my sophomore year in high school. Excel was a tool I had only used to analyze baseball statistics. The first time a classmate said “P&L,” I asked what it meant. Now I’m on the verge of having two masters’ degrees and preparing to start an amazing job. It’s safe to say that the past three years have changed me as much as the previous three. In addition to gaining 50 lbs., losing any semblance of a tan and shedding most of my shaggy blonde hair, I’ve gained a great group of friends and some serious knowledge and skills!! And some debt…

Last week I got an opportunity to pay it forward a bit. Ross admissions were in Shanghai, interviewing some prospective students. As a way to gauge how well prospective students will fit the Ross culture, several alumni and students helped to facilitate a sort of group interview. My first thought was how happy I was to be on my side of the equation. The application/interview/wait-list experience I had was really rough and I can’t imagine going through it again. The group of applicants was incredibly impressive, and nervous. As facilitators, we got to chat with Ross admissions director about the process and the business school landscape in general. I am happy to say that the past three years have transformed Soojin from the terrifying figurehead that would decide my fate into the impressive woman that shapes Ross into the great program it is.

The last week and a half has been filled with group projects, case preparation and presentations so I don’t have much from the China front. I’m excited for the weekend though (for very American reasons) as the #1 Michigan Wolverines play at the #3 Hoosiers on Sunday and the 49ers play on Super Bowl Monday morning. Clearly the timing is off but those should be some great games!! This is a great time to be a San Francisco sports fan that went to U of M with regard to sports.

That’s it for now. My free time will surely provide some great experiences soon.

Mandarin, night life and the 49ers

It’s been a while since I last posted and for a while I thought I had nothing to report. My school commute has become routine, I’ve more or less figured out how to feed myself and my classes are far from demanding.

I have been out on the town a few nights and can say that I set myself up for disappointment. My first night out started at a CEIBS party. The party was Spanish themed and included bingo, hangover flavored sangria and a completely empty dance floor. It was nice to see some of the full-time students outside of class but the party was not riveting.

Among my fellow exchange students were a few with plans to go to a club called Mint. Shortly thereafter, I was taking a cab home at 5am after having bottle service at one of Shanghai’s hottest clubs. Mint included an amazing view, a massive shark tank and many, many drinks. It turned out to  a great venue for getting to know some of the guys in my program but the cab ride home reminded me of being four-years old.

Being named Ira and unable to say the letter “r” makes introductions tough. In my mind, I would say my name correctly, the respondent would butcher it, I would spell it for them, they would butcher the spelling and I would be unable to fix the situation.

Giving directions at 5am in Shanghai after bottle service feels like being a four year-old who can’t say the only consonant in his name.  I say Zhenping Lu, you take me to Yenping Lu. I write Zhenping Lu on a piece of paper, you respond in exasperated mandarin.  Eventually I drew the logo for the Shanghai Metro and the corresponding train lines that stop at the Zhenping Lu station and I was saved. Thankfully, taxi prices in Shanghai aren’t too expensive and the whole charade only cost about $10.

Two subsequent nights out have allowed me to make a few broad generalizations. 1) I love that smoking is banned in US bars

2) A ton of people in Shanghai smoke… a lot

3) Shanghai is full of prostitutes

4) Shark tanks connote status in clubs

5) Local liquor tastes like gasoline

6) Local people can’t handle their local liquor

The other night I saw at least four young women carried from a club virtually unconscious. I saw several men attempt to stand up from booths and fall flat on their faces. After talking to my roommate Louise, I learned that as we approach Chinese New Year, drinking will increase while alcohol tolerance stays the same. I was told to expect red faces, loud voices and possibly vomiting on the metro. I’ll report how it actually turns out.

On another note, I completed one week of intensive mandarin lessons and can now tell taxi drivers where I need to go. I can order food and drink and even ask for no MSG. Apparently, MSG is applied very generously to all street food, including the tasty lamb wraps upon which I subsisted for weeks. I’ll ask for no wenjing from now on.

Finally, a Falcons fan, a Niners fan and a Zambian prostitute walk into a bar at 4am. I guess that’s not accurate. I woke up at 3am this morning so I could make it to the expat bar The Big Bamboo before kickoff. I got a small two-top to myself and sat next to a larger table of Falcons fans. Within ten minutes, a Zambian prostitute took the other seat at my table. It didn’t take long for her three friends to join, cover my table (I was facing away form the table, toward the largest television) with jackets and purses. Long morning short, the Zambians left at halftime, the 49ers are going to the Super Bowl and I’m exhausted.

Miss you guys!

First Day of Class

Today was the first day of class. One class lasted three hours and fifteen minutes. It’s a bit brutal but perhaps it’s the only way to fit a full term in less than a month. Day one was quite straightforward and gave a nice sense of the diversity of the class (mixed first year, second year and exchange students).

Over the past week, I’ve explored a bit. I went to an ex-pat bar to watch what was scheduled to be the BCS national championship game. Though #1 played #2, I think it’s safe to say that the top two teams in the nation were not playing one another that day. I’ll allow other bloggers to dissect the BCS though. The bar was packed with expats and though it was expensive by what I’ve set as my Shanghai standards, I got a nice meal and a few beers for just over twenty bucks. I’ll admit that I needed a full meal as I’d been living off of clementines, toast and lamb pitas from my favorite street food guy.  While my neighborhood is full of great looking restaurants, I don’t think saying hello and thank you in mandarin will necessarily get me what I want. I’ll get there though.

The highlight of my week was a visit to the newly opened Power Station of Art. Formerly a functioning electric power station, the place had a great layout, incredibly eclectic exhibits (some not to my liking) and a nice view of the Shanghai Expo. My absolute favorite exhibit was a video called “The Way Things Go.” A thirty-minute Rube Goldberg style sequence using water, fire and various other chemical reactions, the video was mesmerizing. I found a shorter version online and definitely recommend you take a look if you like that sort of thing. The artists are Peter Fischli and David Weiss of Switzerland.

Still, my favorite spectacle of Shanghai (better than the massive grocery store selling pig snouts and cleaned by mini floor Zambonis) is the metro. While I’m not fond of the nail clipping, spitting, nose picking and snot rocketing I’ve observed, the efficiency amazes me. Boarding an empty train at rush hour is like a professional musical chairs match. Once the doors open, all seats are filled within a second and dismayed slowpokes skid to a halt in front of the seats they didn’t quite claim. Just yesterday I witnessed a brief but serious footrace between two old ladies when a seat opened up. Nobody vacated a seat for the loser but maybe that’s a cultural thing I’ll learn sooner or later.

That’s all for now. 

Shanghai there

It's been a while but I'm back on the road so here we go: 

Keep in mind that I haven't figured out how to blog directly from China and that this post is being posted from the US. Any comments won't be read by me until I access it from here. Any recommendations on circumventing the firewall would be greatly appreciated.

It's the start of day three here. There were some shenanigans involved with my initial travel. I had trouble getting yuan out of an ATM so lacked the $1 fare I needed to get on a subway. After walking back and forth through the station 6 or 7 times trying to see or think of a solution, I saw a young woman getting change at a market and asked if she spoke english. She traded me 6 yuan for 2 bucks. A screaming deal for her if she's ever able to exchange it back. Once on the train, I followed the directions Louise (my Irish housemate) provided and arrived at her building with no problem. I did not, however, know what unit of the building she lived in. A few attempted conversations with people who spoke zero words of english got me to the front desk. A few phone calls later and I was in business. 

My first full day included a trip to CEIBS. I am getting the hang of the metro system but took forever to get there. I walked the wrong direction for a while, righted myself and walked forever again. It turns out the walk from the metro to CEIBS can take up to 45 minutes so I'll be spending an extra 15 cents on a bus from now on. 

My day yesterday was only slightly adventurous. I woke up early and laid around in bed for a few hours. It turns out that bed is the only warm place in China because apartments aren't heated and it's freaking cold outside. Early morning for me is also the best time to find people online, when the internet is fast enough for skype or gchat. 

I did end up venturing out to the grocery store. It's only a few blocks from the apartment building but everything I do here feels like a serious undertaking. Even when it's time to cross the street, one has to beware cars and motorcycles turning right. Apparently right on red means don't slow down on red, just turn right. There is no sense of waiting for one another here. I noticed pretty quickly when getting on and off of the subway. When the door opens, people mash into the doorway, both on and off at the same time. When getting into a line or on an escalator, if there is a way to go ahead of people, go for it. Very strange but at least I'm bigger. 

The grocery store was NO JOKE. I entered and immediately stepped onto an airport style people mover that brought me up one floor. The people mover and the floor it brought me to were absolutely packed. Literally hundreds of people at the grocery store. There seemed to be different music playing in different aisles, the products were weird as shit (including all sorts of chicken feet, little birds and other weird looking stuff). I walked around the whole floor so I could get a feel for what food is available. With oats, clementines and apples, I went to the pushy line at which products are weighed, priced and stickered for later checkout. The lady looked at the oats and shook her head. I assumed that meant that I didn't need a sticker but she and I shared zero common words so I went about my business. When I checked out, in the 47th checkout aisle. No shit, there were 50 checkout counters. The woman shook her head about the oats having no sticker so no oats for me. 

Outside, I stopped at a street food cart where a guy was making fried rice and nice looking noodle dishes. Again, I arrived with one person ahead of me but saw no fewer than seven dishes made before I got mine. Among those seven dishes were two fried rice orders for people who walked up well after I got there. Those orders helped to finish the rice so I got noodles instead. Only a dollar but it tasted kinda like fish paste. Slowly but surely I'm learning. Some language abilities will go a long way so I'll spend some time on that. 

Other than that outing, I went to the gym briefly. Really weak gym but it's convenient and will help me to get back in shape. Louise suggested that we would go to some art exhibit around 2:30 but then texted that she'd be back around 5 (she let me borrow a little nokia for now) and arrived about an hour ago, at 7ish. Maybe we'll venture out today.

Same cover, different book

First I want to thank you all for following my blog. It made me nervous to start this blog but maintaining it became a nice way to share my insights and release frustrations. As you have likely noticed, I have lagged a bit on posting this last entry. Here it is.

Macchu Pichu did prove to be a great last adventure (prior to the endless last bit of travel). I woke up at 3:30 am and set out with two Mexicans, one Dane, two Dutch women and an Israeli couple. We picked up a solo American on the way to the Inca steps and were on our way. It was HARD!!! We had to leave early in order to get to Macchu Pichu in time for sunrise and to have the opportunity to climb Huayna Pichu (the other mountain you'll see in most Macchu Pichu pics. Stair after stair afters stair, the air got thinner and our need for it grew greater. Our group split up into smaller groups as paces set us apart and I was at the front with the Mexicans, the Dane and my fellow American (he didn't represent well by only bringing a bottle of Coca Cola to drink).

Every time we stopped for a breather with screaming lungs, we would catch our breath quickly, only to lose it again a few steps into the next ascent. In an hour, we had cranked through the hike for which we'd be told to allow ninety minutes. We kept joking with each other that we were killing ourselves at this pace and at such an early time only to earn the right to hike up another mountain!!

The effort was worth it all around. The sunrise took my remaining breath away. I was cold and exhausted but loved every moment I was there. We were allowed into Macchu Pichu at 6am and were greeted my Llamas as they fed on the manicured law terraces. We were given an official tour (my hiking buddies were in the Spanish tour, I in the English) and after getting some history, I was ushered to Huayna Pichu with my two Dutch hiking buddies. Huayna Pichu was shorter but much steeper, soaking me with sweat again and making my lungs scream for the even thinner air. An hour or so of relaxing at 7,000 feet allowed for only a bit of time to explore Macchu Pichu before having to join a bus back to Aguas Calientes and another 7 hours back to Cuzco.

I left Cuzco the following day on a 22 hours bus to Lima where I sat 6 hours in the airport before a 5 hour flight, another 4 hour layover before a 4 hour flight, a 3 hour wait and an 8 hour drive from LA to SF. About 48 hours of travel later, I was home!!!

Now that I am home, I can't help but notice what has stayed with me. I still love every hot shower, every cold drink and every comfortable night in my own bed. I have seen a pair of women making out at a Giants game, a man screaming/preaching about his 57,000,000,000 sons named Revenge until the police took him off the bus. I have had many burritos and watched many baseball games. I am poor in dollars but rich in experience, two truths that are not always evident from the outside. Dipping into my closet of dress shirts and slacks has me wearing clean clothes every day. I blend in on public transportation like I did before I left. I can't help but think how many other people I pass on the street or sit next to on the bus may have similar life altering experiences hidden away.

The observations and insights that I love to share on this blog have not made me any more talkative in person. The experience is inside, in pictures and in my blog entries but when asked "What was it like?" or "What was your favorite part?" I tend to draw a blank. There is SO much that I can't call upon on a whim that will have to come up throughout the upcoming years. I look forward to trolling over these blog entries for the first time as a way to remind me of what I've done. I have done my best to stay in the moment, enjoying each day and leaving the next day open.

One great way to work my way back into American culture has been working at Sunset Cooperative Nursery School. Whether they are slung across their mother's back or transfered from expensive crib to carseat to stroller, 2, 3 and 4 year old kids are fun and brutally honest around the world. I also got to share in my Mom's 60th birthday celebration, enjoying an experience that rivaled any from my trip.

I may write another entry or two as I get used to being back home. I am still not used to being in American culture but I am really enjoying it. I will definitely add many pictures. I am having a hard time with them at the moment.

Love to all!

What comes next?

In a few short days, I will be boarding a flight from Lima to Los Angeles via Mexico City. My sisters Megan and Martha will pick me up at LAX and the three of us will share the last leg of my journey. To ensure that the journey comes full circle, we will make at least one stop at In 'n Out burger as we did when the three of us went to SFO on August 15, 2007.

For now, I am enjoying the thin air of beautiful Cuzco. I spent my first night here at Loki Backpackers Hostel, a place recommended by a guide book. This place is pretty wild! If one wants to feel as though they are back in college and not in a Spanish speaking country, this is the place. The first night had pub trivia, one of my favorite ways to combine beer and brains. The next morning, I thought I would save a bit of money and energy by moving down the road to a cheaper, slower paced hostel.

Though Loki is as touristy as can be, it has the best assortment of volunteer opportunities of any hostel I´ve come across so far. Though not staying there, I was able to sign up for a day of manual labor in the sacred valley. Many people pay for tours of this valley, I paid for transport and to lug adobe bricks onto and off of a truck. Last year, hundreds of families lost their homes and livelihoods when Cuzco was ravaged by a flood. I am embarrassed to say that I didn´t make the connection between Macchu Picchu´s flood based closure to flooding around the area.

Eight volunteers signed up for the day and we took a ninety minute ride into the beautiful sacred valley. We were told that we would be helping to build a guinea pig enclosure as a way to offer income generating activities to the community. We didn´t know that the bricks were at least 30 lbs. each and we would fill and empty a large flatbed truck three times. I was one of four men to volunteer and two of the others suffer from lower back troubles. Taking one for the team, I was either standing behind the truck, holding bricks at shoulder height for people to easily load the truck or I was on the truck, bent over, receiving the bricks and stacking them in place. At least 800 bricks later, we were all dust covered and exhausted. My lower back muscles and hamstrings are still screaming at me but also letting my know that I was using muscles rather than vertebrae for the work.

Yesterday, I volunteered again, this time at a school for disadvantaged children. I was the only volunteer this time (late nights and early morning volunteering don´t always agree) and joined the two volunteer coordinators. We went to the greatest playground I have ever seen and I was immediately paired up with a little gordito. The playground was equiped with several slides of at least 50 feet, mini-carousels, swings, a trampoline and more. My little guy Fabricio was all about the slide so I spent much of the time climbing stairs and pulling myself down the slide (jeans and a little guy on the lap didn´t allow for fast sliding). Fabricio spent at least thirty minutes longer with his lunch and only got a few minutes of kneeling on the trampoline before the day was over. He had a huge smile on his face when slowly sliding and while kneeling on the trampoline so I felt like a successful play partner.

When I got back from volunteering, I had an e-mail from my waitlist manager at Michigan. Her message said that she tried calling me earlier in the week but couldn´t get through so could I please e-mail her back so we could talk about a few things.

Two days prior, about twenty people posted messages to an MBA board about being admitted off the waitlist at Ross (the name of Michigan´s business school). I was confident about my chances but after getting no news felt sure that I was out of luck.

Having a San Francisco phone number as my contact information definitely didn´t help matters but after three pay phone calls and a few e-mails I was able to get in touch with the member of admissions. After ten minutes of answering questions about why I want to attend Ross, where it stands on my list of prospective schools and other questions similar to those I answered during my Mumbai interview, I was invited to join the class of 2012. I happily accepted and will be headed to Ann Arbor this fall. What a relief after applying from the road, piecing together my application and speculating endlessly, I am in!! I withdrew from Duke´s waitlist and now will head home with the next chapter sorted. Tomorrow, I will head up to Macchu Picchu!

Love to all!

Time running out but feeling long

I am feeling back to my normal self again and have been thoroughly enjoying Peru. For five dollars a night, I have had my own room with a hot shower and cable TV. Most of the television is in spanish but I have managed to catch some NBA playoffs, great tennis and a baseball game.

It may sound as though I am spending a lot of time watching TV. I am spending much more time in front of the TV than I have in the last two and a half years but not too much. However, I do feel that it is more of a chore filling my days.

Arequipa and Puno (where I am now) have been great but unless I want to break the bank for ice axes and crampons, I will not be doing any hiking in the area. Arequipa is surrounded by several 6,000 meter peaks, offering a gorgeous backdrop in most directions. Puno is right on Lake Titicaca, a lake that sticks out in my mind for immature young boy reasons. Some touristy island trips are available here but I think that I will pass. There are cultures on various islands that survive predominantly on tourist dollars by keeping themselves from developing. One island survived the Incas and other warring neighbors by building everything out of the buoyant reeds in the area. Now, they still make everything out of reeds in order to draw tourists. I am sure there are beautiful crafts and homes but I will pass this time around.

I will head to Cuzco in two days I think. I have really enjoyed walking around Puno, admiring the Quechua women and adorable kids. I have been here for two full days and each day, I stumbled upon a street market and a cement soccer match. Saturday reminded me of beer league softball in the states as two teams of men in their 40s, 50s and 60s donned full uniforms and brought full competitive spirit to an outdoor basketball court. I helped a tourism student with his english while enjoying the matches.

Today presented a pair of matches made up of more youthful teams. Old men sat in the stands with beers and a cute young girl gnawed on what appeared to be a pig hip-bone next to me. I get stared at more than talked to but I am enjoying myself.

It is strange how I seek out the less touristy areas but miss company when I arrive. Cuzco is sure to provide company and incredible sites. I am looking forward to it!!

Love to all!

Happy Mother´s Day

I emailed my mom yesterday thinking (and hoping) that I wouldn´t have internet access today. Since I am here, I can with another Happy Mother´s Day to my mom and to every other mom reading.

I got to San Pedro de Atacama with the hope of seeing salt flats and getting back in the travel groove. I did both and was only dissatisfied with the salt flats. My first full day, I started by wandering out the front door of the hostel, expecting to get a lay of the land and avoid organized tours. 5 hours later, I returned with a pretty good sunburn, about 7 miles on the internal odometer and some tired legs. I ended up walking to an archeological site, visiting ruins from an old military settlement that was destroyed over 500 years ago. The ruins were interesting but the view was what made it. San Pedro de Atacama, as I mentioned, is in the driest desert in the world. 3 days prior to my arrival, the town got a deluge of rain, dusting the surrounding mountains and volcanoes with snow. The site had two paths, one giving a gorgeous view of the mountains, the other giving a breathtaking view of death valley (named due to mistranslation rather than any real death, it was supposed to be earth valley to match the nearby Valle de la Luna) with visible layers of ash, salt and rock from millions of years back.

When I got back from my hike, I kept with my original plan to join a tour (can´t avoid them all) to the Valle de la Luna for sunset. The tour took our group to view death valley from the side opposite where I had already been. We went from there to another viewpoint, this one with what the guide called a Wile e Coyote rock. The overhanging rock offered maybe a thirty foot drop but was laid in front of a valley hundreds of feet below, offering frightening but not terribly unsafe photo ops.

Our next stop was to an intimidating enclave where we sat in silence as the sun started to go down. The hollow salt structures around us began to ping and crack as they cooled, offering a bizarre but enchanting sound.

We stopped briefly at Tres Marias, a trio of natural stone pillars. We only got to see two unfortnately because a French tourist toppled the third after climbing it for a photo opp.

The final stop was Valle de la Luna where we had to trek up maybe 200 yard of sand dune before gaining the proper point of view. Many tour groups were assembled (apparently far fewer than during peak season) which took some of the wonder out of it but still offered amazing views.

The next morning, I literally followed my gut and joined an 11 hour bus south to Salta, Argentina. I wanted steak and wine and was too close to pass it up. If you look at a map, you will see that I have taken a rather circuitous route through the region but I am enjoying myself and seeing some great places.

Within an couple hours of disembarking, I led three Dutch travelers on an epic steak hunt. We walked back and forth before landing at a pricey but promising steak spot. At ten dollars, the steak was more than I expected but I had come a long way and would not be denied. I housed my 1.2 lb steak, enjoying a nice Cabernet alongside. To my dismay, two of my tablemates left huge portions behind. I talked during the meal about how great it would be to have steak for breakfast and lunch. When we were outside, I realized that they had not gotten takeaway containers and upon commenting was told that only Americans get doggies bags. Now I have not been able to defend all statements starting with "only Americans," but this was a different story.

I had steak the next night, washed it down with local tap water after asking for guidance and I spent the next twenty four hours in a serious disagreement with my stomach. Sleeping and sweating throughout. My fever got up to 103 and dropped to 97 so I feared Malaria. The following day, after some magical cipro, I was out of the woods and was even able to get a nice hike in. Slightly strenuous, the exercise and fresh air seemed to be just what I needed.

After the hike, I sorted out my bus ticket for this morning, bought some provisions for my 24 hour bus ride and managed to get to sleep as the rest of the hostel was going out to the bars. My alarm woke my just ten minutes after the last bar straggler and I made my 7am bus easily. 12 hours later, finally having conked out into deep sleep, I was woken up on Calama where I now sit with two more hours to kill before my connecting bus leaves for Arica. In my feverish stupor, I left my toiletry bag on the bus, adding to the string of good travel with bad peripherals.

Happy Mother´s Day once again!!

Love to all.

Back on track

I am now in San Pedro de Atacama and rather than having to choose between reading and checking baseball scores or studying Spanish, I get to choose among salt flats, the moon valley, geysers and flamingos. Much more like it!

The ride from Antofagasta was beautiful and comfortable. Unfortunately, it was marred when the driver slammed on the brakes, causing an elderly man to fall and earn a gash on his head. I was quick with first aid equipment (I have carried it this whole time with no real need) but gauze and alcohol pads were not nearly enough and we ended up dropping him and his family at a hospital with a blood soaked shirt pressed to his calm, bald head.

Passing through the Atacama desert (the driest in the world) was consistently beautiful, getting moreso as we approached San Pedro de Atacama. Being around fellow travelers who speak english makes me very happy!! I can cook for myself and see the beauty of Chile rather than staying in a seedy rundown hostel in the city, surrounded by bars and strip clubs. Much better!!

Love to all (even the guy who stole my ipod, I had a good run with it)

Solamente con dos completos y sin un ipod

I´m not sure if that title actually makes sense in Spanish. What I do know is that my ipod was stolen from within a foot of me within the last hour and it feels awful. I´ll get to that

My first two nights in Santiago were nice if a bit off due to jetlag. My second night was spent with a pair of girls who contacted me through couchsurfing.com. We sat, drank pisco (a local liquor) and chatted, trading stories about travel and asking questions about culture etc.

Feeling the rush of my schedule, I left and decided rather than head into Argentina with some of the folks I met at the hostel, I would work my way north to ensure that I gave Chile its due. Not much to see so far. I spent two nights in La Serena. The town was beautiful with 27 churches in a relatively small area. It was cold and I was one of a few tourists. I rested, read in the town center and caught up on rest.

I am now in Antofagasta for my third day. It´s the fourth largest city in Chile and up until the theft of my ipod has been pretty nice. I´ve spent a huge amount of time at the internet, watching baseball games and checking if my business school status has changed (it hasn´t). In La Serena and in Antofagasta, I have remained sated by eating completos pretty often. A completo is a hot dog covered in diced tomatoes and avocado and it´s cheap and very tasty. It may not be the healthiest of options but I know how to order it, I can afford it and I love the taste.

It has been a bit lonely traveling solo through towns without many tourists. My spanish is certainly improving but not enough to even explain that my ipod was taken. I guess I should explain that bit now.

The ipod that I´ve had throughout Peace Corps and through my travels around the world is now gone. I was charging it at my computer but saw that the computer was very slow. I unplugged it and plugged it into the computer next to me. I admit that I wasn´t paying close attention but it was within one foot of my hand. The only person to use the computer was a child of around ten years old. He was playing computer games and when he got up to leave, he asked me if the headphones next to his keyboard were mine. The headphones yes, the ipod and cord, gone. What an awful feeling!! BAH!!

From here, I will travel to San Pedro de Atacama where I can see the salt flats. The more famous salt flats are just across the border in Bolivia but rather than pay the 135 dollar reciprocity fee, I will see those that I´ve already paid for. From northern Chile I will head into Peru. I have looked into WWOOFing with the hope of working on organic farms. I haven´t gotten a reply. There is a registration fee but after registering in India and getting no response, I thought I would try the other way around.

Now I´ll watch the rest of the Giants game unfold and think of how to release the anger about my ipod. This has been my sole companion of late with games, spanish lessons and 13,000 songs that I compiled along my travels. Awful.

Love to all (except for whomever stole my ipod)

Ira

One hour later, 14,750 feet higher

Tan and relaxed, Cheri and I met up in the Auckland airport and soon after were headed to the home of her old camp friend Matt. We dropped off our things and went out for dinner at a nice pub. I felt right at home at a table of folks in their early thirties chatting about work while enjoying some nice microbrews. The baby steps continue from West African culture towards the American culture I´ll tackle in just over a month. Having heard so much about camp throughout our relationship, it was nice to see Cheri in her element with a fellow camp counselors.

On our first full day in New Zealand, Cheri and I took a bus to Lake Taupo. Rather than hitchiking as everyone had suggested, we used the transport as a means of relaxation in addition to transportation. Once in Taupo, we sorted ourselves out in hostel, loaded up on groceries and wandered a bit.

In order to get a deal on bungee jumping the next day, we had to get our jump done before 11am. As we were booking, we discussed the idea of sky diving as well and were told that we had better get the sky dive in ASAP if we wanted to be clear of potential weather obstacles. Instead of rushing off to jump off an eithty meter high platform, we had an hour to kill before being picked up to jump 15,000 feet out of an airplane!!

Though nervous, I was more excited than anything as the time approached. We suited up, met our tandem guides and were soon on a small plane, climbing quickly and being updated on elevation. When the time came, three other sky divers were led through the plane door before my tandem guy and I slid across the bench and to the door. I tucked my legs below the plane, grabbed my harness and leaned my head back on his shoulder. A minute later, we were spinning our way down with the suppport of a nice, fully functioning parachute. My face and hands were freezing but otherwise I was pretty unimpressed. I was definitely nervous as I approached the open door of the plane but after that, I was falling, a stabilizing chute went out and then the main chute went out. I didn´t have to think or act and because of this, the experience flew by.

The next day, we made our early jump time at the bungee site. Once checked in, we decided to watch a few people jump before taking the plunge ourselves. When we got to the viewing platform, a man was ready to jump. At least ten minutes later, the same man had his hands pried from the handrails and was led away from the jump area. He couldn´t do it and his father (standing next to us filming) wasn´t going to let him live it down. We watched a young woman jump and we joined the line.

Cheri went first and after asking about doing flips and swan dives, was told that simply tipping over the edge is the best for your first jump. You get a better free fall and will be in better control. Cheri had a good scream and was totally soaked in the river. I was mostly calm up until my turn to walk to the ledge. Three people checked on the bungee and harness before giving the OK (nice and thorough) and then I walked to the edge with a heavy cord hanging from feet that were restricted as though my shoes had been tied together. 1, 2, 3 Bungee was all I needed to tip forward, spread my arms back and fall. Though I gave the OK for a river dip, only an inch of my hair got wet. The highest peak of adrenaline over these two days was hands down the moment I decided to leave the platform. Some bungee employees broke it down by saying that 15,000 feet is totally surreal and the mind can´t comprehend what´s happening. 250 feet over a river is well within our grasp and our mind and body know that we should NOT fall from that height. I loved it!!

Cheri and I spent the rest of the day hiking around, sitting in thermal springs and swimming in ice cold, crystal clear water. We visited Huka falls and ate some apples and blackberries we found along the way.

Around the time we were bungee jumping and skydiving, I also had a deadline for graduate school and had to say an indefinite goodbye to Cheri. What struck me was how much more my body reacted to checking my waitlist status (still there) and saying goodbyes at Auckland airport (BOOO!!!!) than it did during either adventure sport. My guts get tangled and just stay that way as no answer is near or clear at the moment. Jumping out of a plane is easy to get psyched up for and fun to come down from. I guess it can be said that the reaction I have to these points in life suggest that I´m taking risks in life and putting myself out there. Hard but true.

Now I´m in Santiago. After a 10 plus hour flight, I landed four hours earlier than I left Auckland. I´m staying up until a reasonable time with hopes of getting my body back on track. A whole new adventure is coming but I´m going to take a day or two before rushing into it.

Love to all

Kindness goes a long way

When waiting in line at the US Embassy in Singapore, Cheri and I heard as several people in our same predicament were turned away and told to return the following day. Our visit to Indonesia had completely filled our respective passports and we were scheduled to fly to Australia the following day. We were called at 3pm, laid out the situation for the friendly embassy woman and we were told to come back in thirty minutes to receive our passports complete with extra pages. Thirty minutes rather than a full day? Not bad!

In Australia, Cheri and I rented a campervan. We drove to Byron Bay, hiked a surprisingly grueling Mt. Warning and enjoyed beach time and blending in. For the first time in months, we could walk down the street without drawing too much attention. We did get a few looks when be broke out shampoo, body wash and towels when using the showers at the beach. Though we could cook for ourselves, sleep when we wanted and go where we wanted, getting clean in the campervan required ingenuity. When returning the campervan, we broke the 10 hour drive into two parts. We got going early on the second day, went to a few "urban Koala sites" with no luck. The only stereotypically Australian animals we managed to see were a roadkill Kangaroo and a caged Koala. Too bad. After failing to spot Koala's we were on our way to Sydney again. Time was ticking away as traffic thickened and it seemed that we'd miss our deadline for returning the campervan. We called while in traffic, filled the tank, washed the van, packed up and got to the site twenty minutes late. Because we'd called and been friendly, we were allowed to stay late, clean up and avoid any late fees. We had seriously worried as the van involved a bit of financial splurging to begin with. Paying for an extra day for only twenty minutes' use sounded awful.

Now that we're in Fiji, it seems as though we're benefiting from kindness Karma. Everybody here is so frienly and inviting. We spent a few days in paradise on Mana Island. We enjoyed Kava (a local drink) and local singing, dancing and cooking while celebrating Cheri's 26th and our 2 1/2 year anniversary.

Tomorrow we fly to New Zealand where I hope to be able to upload some pictures of this gorgeous place. Unfortunately, our visit to Fiji coincided withe the Fiji Peace Corps close of service conference so again we missed out on seeing Peace Corps villages.

Maybe in Chile or Peru?

Love to all.

Living in a van

Meeting people along the path of our travels has really helped out of late. We were able to crash with Brett and Bonnie (met in Ghana) in Singapore, a couple from our Bollywood days in Sydney and a girl Laura whom I met in Budapest, also in Syndey. Being able to get a local view and a few homecooked meals along the way has been a real treat. Cutting costs in these expensive cities has also been a help.

Since Syndey, Cheri and I have been living in a hi-top camper van. We've driven ten hours to Byron Bay and have been cooking and sleeping in the van. We've actually gotten better sleep these past few days than we have in ages. Two couches in the back fold out into a firm double bed. We've been able to grocery shop and use the mini-fridge and propane stove for food. We're more free than we've been in a long time and no longer have to rush to catch long buses or worry about much of a timetable.

We'll be in Byron Bay until heading back through Sydney and on to Fiji. I can't believe we're going to Fiji!! I wrote a paper about Fiji back in 7th grade and have always thought it to be somewhat of a mythical place. We have been in touch with a few Peace Corps volunteers there and hope to get to see the village life there.

I'll update soon. For now, we're ducking away from a short rain storm before heading to the beach.

Love to all.

Mentawai

If you told me three days that I would take an uncomfortable overnight boat to a sketchy powerboat to a remote island where I'd get pounded by waves, cut my feet on reef and bow out after less than an hour. And if you told me that I would leave a few hours later to take the same powerboat to the same overnight boat and be completely satisfied by the experience, I may not believe it.

The Mentawai Islands are like surf Mecca to many. I didn't know this and when looking through guide books and on the internet, few specific places were mentioned. I had endured enough tourist swamped locations and didn't want to go to Bali so I went to the Mentawai Islands from Padang.

Shortly after disembarking, I called over two fellows with surfboards slung over their shoulders. They agreed to split the cost of the speedboat charter. After a small breakfast and some coffee, we were off. The pair of British guys had been traveling through Indonesia from surfspot to surfspot for 4 months and had 3 weeks left. One of them has been doing this for 5 years straight and is only 22 years old. I warned them that I was no good at surfing and that I could only stay one night. They picked up supplies for a week as there are no shops or markets on Nyangnyang where we were headed. An hour and a great downpour later, the boat was filled with groceries and we were on our way. Rain and sea spray soaked us within minutes but the narrow mangrove forrest route we took was worth it. A few close calls with other boats and dug-out canoes kept it exciting as we gradually made it to open water. We passed seaside homes and fishing boats and after just over an hour, we made it.

We offloaded the boat and instantly met a few other surfers who told us that the conditions were the worst they'd seen in their three weeks on the island. They planned to stay through September if possible.

After deliberating over which of the many surfspots to venture towards, we chose the closest. A twenty minute walk took us to the spot and it was time to paddle out. I have some experience on small waves on a buoyant and forgiving longboard leading to a soft beach break. This day, I was on a borrowed 6'6" board on large, powerful waves and ruthless reef break. A few strokes into paddling out I knew I was WAY out of my league. The four guys I was with took off with ease, powering along with the well formed back muscles they'd been using day in and day out. I quickly fell behind and after the 200 or so meters of paddling it took to go around the reef, I was already exhausted.

I took a breather and got a feel for where the waves were breaking but I was still quite gunshy. The guys around me were off and running, each with their share of good rides and wipeouts. I missed a few waves before finally getting the timing right but the ability all wrong and I got tossed. In the tumult, I lost hold of my board and re-surfaced to a scared and appropriately upset fellow surfer who'd almost been skewered by my board. Duck diving waves on the way back out, I was getting more and more fatigued and after not too long I called it in for the sake of everyone involved. I sat and enjoyed watching the others surf, getting no grief from them when the came in.

"They were terrible conditions, awful for learning. Like learning to ski on moguls."

"You're a legend for even making the effort to come for a day, I've been in Indo for 5 years and just made it."

Kind words even though I felt defeated. This is a place worth working up to. Take a look for yourselves. A video of a fellow UCSB Gaucho and his brothers. The conditions in the video are much better than when I was there but either way, I was way out of my element.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDG0PjCWyrE

Looking back

I can only give a brief entry on the time spent in Vietnam but want to do so before it's too far in the past. A 30 hour "sleeper" bus brought us from Vang Vient go Hanoi. The sleeper consisted of an overcrowded bus with reclining seats that had foot cubbyholes. My feet only fit in the cubbyholes at certain angles and I was too tall for the seat but it was manageable.

I loved Hanoi instantly. Cheri and I decided not to go with the hawkers who boarded the bus immediately upon arrival. Instead, we wandered the street to find food and took a taxi to a hotel. We paid a bit more but got a better feel of the place.

The next morning, we took a bus to a boat to Ha Long Bay. The first stop made me nauseous. The geologically awesome cave filled with stalagmites and stalactites was turned into Disneyland Vietnam. We waited in line after line in order to work our way around crowds of people posing for photos, climbing over barriers and pushing through to get as many pictures of the purple and pink lighted cave.

It could only get better and it certainly did. A bit more time on the boat showed us the gorgeous landscape of jutting islands in calm water. Boatmen sold goods like you'd expect street hawkers to do. Boats filled with chips, drinks and fruit.

We were dropped off and because we were piecing our trip together, we didn't stay in the tour affiliated hotel. Instead, we paid 5 dollars between us for an ocean view, third floor room with a hot shower!!! So nice!!

We left Ha Long Bay to meet up with a couchsurfing connection. Not knowing what to expect, we were pleased to meet a Vietnamese business owner and her British NGO executive husband. We were treated well, got to relax and discussed our goals. On our last full day in Vietnam (much too short a trip) we aimed to go to a national park. I thought that we were spending too much time "doing things." I couldn't put it better but felt that Following tour books every day was keeping us from seeing the places we were visiting. Instead, we wandered around Hanoi and felt great. Aimless and care free how I like it.

Unfortunately, my ATM card was lost somewhere in Vietnam so I've been working to fix that situation. My saviors in Singapore helped me by using their address as my new mailing address and lending me cash for my Indonesia leg. Yesterday, however, I had only foreign currency on a Sunday. I had to use my passport as collateral at a hotel and wandered the HOT and HUMID Padang city hungry and useless. Today, a friendly bank assistant took me around on his moto, being sure to show me some of the destruction from last September's Earthquake. There are huge splits in the asphalt and destroyed buildings all around the city. A bit out of the loop regarding world news, I only remembered there being the huge earthquake in 2007. The language barrier kept me from learning too much before visiting Google this morning.

Now I hope to get a day on the Mentawai islands. I will try to surf if it's not too far out of my ability level.

Love to all!!

Hmm

I am now in Padang, on Sumatra in Indonesia. It is dumping rain and the local transport (small van with colored lights and blaring music) dropped me off where I asked but now it doesn't seem to be where I want to be. I feel safe though tired. There haven't been too many days like this. Starting this long travel journey, I expected there to be more days with no proper communication, bad weather, exhaustion and confusion. Here it is!!

Just looking at March Madness and baseball news while the weather subsides.


Love to all.

A changed man

After romping with Tigers and Elephants, riding a bamboo raft and visiting hill tribes, Megan, Cheri and I headed into Laos.

Before crossing the border, we met a fun couple that shared our path. A French woman and American man, the pair met while in Australia over a year ago and have traveled together on and off since.

An overnight bus took us to Luang Prabang, a nice slow, relaxing place in Laos. Megan only had a few hours before she had to head to the airport (an overnight bus and a new Visa just to catch a flight due to a change in plans) so Cheri and I teamed up with the other couple.

On our first full day together, the four of us hired a tuk tuk and traveled to some nearby waterfalls. You may think the same thing that I did... more waterfalls? Somehow they just don't get old. This set-up was one in which we got to see the Laos countryside before visiting a bear refuge and finally visiting a series of waterfalls. Hours of hiking, sweating and feeling disappointed finally found us at a sign that read "Do not swimming." So we went ahead and checked it out.

This place may have been the inspiration for the infinity pool. Waterfalls ranging from four feet to well over forty feet fed into a surprisingly calm pool perfect for swimming. The edge of this pool led to a drop of nearly ten stories but the water was shallow enough to allow one to walk up and look over the edge the the waterfall below.

A few days later, in Vang Vieng, Cheri and I joined the couple for a day of rock climbing. Having climbed man made climbing walls only a few times in my life, I was by far the least experienced of our group. I learned a great deal but relied too much on upper body strength and was totally drained for the last two climbs. Feeling the wonderful fatigue of a day well spent, we cooled off by taking a huge zip line into the nearby river.

The following day, we all did was most travelers in Vang Vieng choose to do. We went "tubing." We had heard that the water level was too low to actually need a tube so we took advantage of free shots and plenty of hugs swings and zip lines into the river. A few years ago, I think that I may have been more interested in the free shots than the activities but the adrenaline was enough of a buzz for me. St. Patricks Day was the following day and sticking to our budget, Cheri and I went bar hopping in a way that allowed a free drink at each bar. Maybe I'm old or maybe I'm more comfortable with myself but I was ready to call it in early rather than wait for the sun to chase me to bed.

I still need to update my time in Vietnam. This will teach me to procrastinate while traveling. More to come.

Love to all. I'm in Singapore again before heading to Indonesia solo tomorrow. Enjoy March Madness!!!