SO, okay, I guess the formal catch-up will have to wait. That's right, the end of the Philippines, the entirety of Hong Kong, London, and Paris, the week scrambling to edit an entire film, the dazed Boston Globe-endorsed premiere, the week of packing, the travelling across the entire country with our cat by car, the entirety of the 1st term of school, and who knows what else - it will all have to wait.
Why is that, you ask?
Well, we originally didn't plan to, what with finals in 2 and a half weeks and whatnot, but we are now going to attend and film my sister's wedding in good ole Vegas (not that kind of wedding - they're Born Agains). In between wedding stuff, I fully plan to eat burgers at at least three different places, as well as chili cheese tater tots. We arrive Friday evening, wedding's on Saturday, we leave Sunday at 6 am - which means why not just stay up Saturday night, since we have to be at the airport at 4 am? Woooo!!!!
This will be wedding video number 8, for Milk and Cookie Productions. Lucky 8!!!
P.S. Remind me to buy a cheap tennis racket from Target. Thanks.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
I'VE ABANDONED MY BLOG!!!! part 2
So if you use my blog as an indicator of the passage of time, it is still June. And I am still in the Philippines.
In other words, please don't use my blog as an indicator of the passage of time.
Don't worry, it'll all be coming back soon... This weekend, perhaps...
In other words, please don't use my blog as an indicator of the passage of time.
Don't worry, it'll all be coming back soon... This weekend, perhaps...
Monday, June 16, 2008
I'VE ABANDONED MY BLOG!!!!!!!!
"AND WE'RE BACK!!!!"
Sorry about that - that post about the Philippines was certainly cut off a tad bit sooner than I would have liked and finished a tad later as well. When I began writing this post, we were actually already in Hong Kong, so I better finish this behemoth of a blog post (bloghemoth?) so that we can move onwards! Otherwise I may have to delay our flights so I can catch up with my writing. I know, I know, Lucy already wrote about most of this - I'll probably be providing precious few surprises for many of you, but I'm determined to turn these five tiny scrawled pages of notes into a proper story! If you don't want to read ahead of my story, don't read Lucy's email yet!!!
"Lost in Manila"
So, yeah, three days in Manila, before we headed onwards to see a bit more than a humid hot city with relatively nothing to do. Quick note, here: there were about two different reactions when people were told I/we would be going on this trip - 1) "That's great!" 2) "How are you paying for this trip? Are you secretly a drug lord, or did you invest in Euros, or perhaps are you an undercover sultan?" The answer to the latter response is layered, but involved factors such as this: One night at Friendly's Guest House in Manila? 900 pesos - not quite 22 American dollars. The showers are cold, but I mean 22 dollars?? Come on! More on this later. At Friendly's, we watched Lost. A lot of Lost? Sort of. But not as much as other people. The sleepy-eyed masses would be up there watching Lost dvds at every point over these few days. We would come back at 2 in the afternoon - people would be watching Lost. We would come back and head up to the common room to see what people were doing at midnight before we went to sleep - Lost. We would wake up the next morning and run up the common room to see if Benjie was there - The same people would be watching Lost. Everyone speaks English, so I'm not sure exactly why the subtitles are on, but they are darn entertaining. It makes me realize that they probably bough lost for 40 pesos onthe side of the street or something. "Jack, I have not with." "Do not for my to be hold fast. Has to Kate if by and to. and." Very poignant dialogue.
I remember meeting a patient from my work who spends the majority of every year in The Philippines. He's not Filipino, just stays there. When I engaged him in conversation one day, I asked where in the country he lives? Manila, perhaps? And he responded that he never goes to Manila. Ever. And quite frankly, I can see why. A couple highlights from Manila, even so. Benjie, owner of Friendly's, and good helpful guide, for anyone who ends up there, took us to a German restaurant in Makati, Manila. As in, big ole German chef walks around (towering at roughly twice the height of even the tallest of the Filipino patrons), almost just to prove that he's actually there, asks how your meal was, and hands out Haribo gummies to the children in the restaurant. He's easily a foot taller than anyone else there. The restaurant was way good. I ate pork knuckles and I'm not ashamed. Take THAT, arteries!!! Although now I can't tell if pork knuckles are more German or more Filipino.
Another definite highlight from Manila - the Philippine National Museum right near Rizal park.
The museum on the whole seems almost abandoned. It's the middle of the day, so of course, no one's really even out, let alone in the mood to walk through a huge park to a museum. Walking in, you see a series of large wooden doors down hallways. They are all closed. It seems almost more like a quiet office park, and in order to see if a gallery is open, you pretty much have to try the door. There are about 4 galleries on each floor, and each floor has at least one or two galleries whose doors don't open. The majority of the exhibits in the museum are artifacts recovered from shipwrecks - from chinese bowls to spanish utensils, and so on - essentially it seems as though the entire museum is dedicated to reconstructing the country's history from what didn't make it to its destination. Very interesting, but it was sort of the kind of situation where, after the 57th variation on a ceramic pot, your mind is understandably prone to wander. We were considering leaving before reaching the building's top floor, but were quite happy we didn't. On the top floor was a gallery featuring art (finally!), all new art from the current generation of Filipino artists, all of which had been honored with a special exhibition. The variety of media andtechniques was staggering and impressive - a vast exhibit, very encouraging to know that the younger generation has such a vivid sense of art and creativity. And though there was such a variety of subjects presented in a myriad of ways, each piece spoke to the troubling sociopolitical atmosphere of The Philippines. In so many ways, it seems a country poised on the brink of extinction. The government is undeniably and transparently corrupt, the people poor, the land suffering. But a country can't just disappear, and so it is trapped in a spiral of problems, all of which compound upon each other. A very disconcerting thing, especially for what I would soon find to be the most beautiful place I've ever seen.
Side Context: When Lucy lived here, she would take trips for her studies into the country, away from Manila. The state of the streets would shift constantly - two paved roads, only one paved road, no paved roads. Local officials, in order to receive funding for projects, must supply before and after photographs of roads. Often, they will take a picture of a section before, have only that section paved, take a picture of it after, collect their money, and neglect the rest of the road. Or, some will check to see who voted for them in the last election. If you didn't, the mark would show as a road unpaved right in your neighborhood, in front of your house.
This turmoil was absolutely reflected in the museum's top floor artwork. One of the most stunning pieces was a canvas, sectioned off into a sea of small geometric shapes by metal walls lying on top of it. Inside each metal compartment, on the canvas, was painted a mummified figure, bent to adjust to the shape of its container. I know, sort of difficult to explain, but the piece was absolutely stunning, regardless. I suppose the grander idea here is that these artists know what the many things are that are wrong with the country, the people who awarded them prizes and chose to display their work also know, pretty much everyone knows, but there's really no clear way to fix it.
"Onwards"
So, the very first place we decided to go was up north to see the rice terraces in Batad and Banaue. There is an overnight bus which leaves from Manila - you get on it, fall asleep, and BAM: 7 o'clock in the morning, you wake up, and you're in Banaue! Easy, right? Sort of. Essentially, the moment we decide to head up to the bus station, there is a torrential downpour, and we are greeted by a series of taxis who decide that they are not going to turn on the meter - instead, they ask "How much will you pay me?" Of course, when we send these taxis away (we always do - it's a matter of sense not to encourage them by paying the "I'm an American" tax), we find one old man who doesn't want to take us to that area because it floods. After calling the number listed on the ticket, to find another way (the number actually does not connect you to the bus company - rather, puts you on the phone with a confused man who does not speak English, except for the phrase "I am not a taxi." Thanks a lot.) Aaaanyway, we sort of "OhGodwhatdowedo" our way into making the driver take us anyways. It was not flooded and I think we tipped him about 100 percent.
Getting on the bus, it is cold. End of story. Freezing freezing icicles-growing-down-your-earlobes-like-Jack-Frost cold. We manage to kind of sleep our way through it. Very nicely, before I drift off to a state which may have been sleep, may have been a state in which my body is cooled to a point at which it just slows down, not unlike cryogenics, I watch the beginning of the in-bus movie, Casino Royale, which I'm quite partial to. I watch Daniel Craig chase a guy along a crane, I watch a building blow up, and I drift off. Not long after, I shift and wake up. Craning my neck to see the screen, I see Judi Dench discussing in her apartment with Daniel Craig. Except, I seem to have missed the point at which the film switched over to voiceovers in Russian. The rest of the movie is in Russian. I don't know why. Probably the same geniuses who operated on those subtitles for Lost. So, the sun comes up, 7 o'clock rolls around, and just like I said it: BAM. We're in Banaue.
Banaue is well known for its rice terraces. If you go into a travel agency in Manila, all the posters depicting rice terraces will say "BANAUE." This is where everyone goes, where tourists would outnumber the Filipinos, if there weren't so darn many Filipinos. Thus, it is also well known that all of the people getting off the bus are tourists, and very likely have no idea where they are or where to go. (If you hear sirens go off in your head, and a disembodied voice yelling, "Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!!!" you are right to hear that). I'm still wiping the sleep drool off my cheek, when people have already gotten off, but a small bunch of people from Banaue have gotten on. "Are you looking for a place to stay?" "Hotel?" "Breakfast?" etc. etc. Now, we knew that this place was not where we wanted to stay. Down the road from Banaue is the quieter less-travelled town of Batad, and we knew that, in order to avoid this hubbub (sp?), we would make a beeline for Batad, and maybe walk through Banaue the last day, on our way out of the rice terrace area. So, we already had this in mind. A teenage kid comes up to us, as we gather our things, still on the bus. "Are you looking for a hotel?" We say no, we already have a place in mind. "Where in Banaue is your hotel?" We're not staying in Banaue. He seems shocked "You are not staying in Banaue?" "No," I replied, "we are staying in Batad. "
I see a beat pass very quickly in his mind. Very quickly - if you weren't watching him closely, you might not even notice his decision to go for it. He stares back at me blankly, and speaks mock-dumb, "...that exists...?" I laugh and walk off the bus. It's hard not to. God bless this kid, for really going for it. He could be a crooked politician when he grows up, if he works hard enough.
If I didn't know better, I would have likely believed him. This is why it seems challenging at times to travel in the Philippines. It seems "easy" to get taken advantage of, and that seems to scare people. But, in all reality, you could potentially go to a series of all-inclusive resorts. And if you want a little adventure, all you have to do is have your wits about you - just as if you were back home in America. If a teenager comes on your bus, as you get off of it in the middle of New York or something, and starts asking you if you need a place to stay, I assume you wouldn't smile, grab his hand, and yell "Okay, buddy, whatever you say! I trust you completely!" Same here. People like this kid have it down to an art. He knows we're not staying there. He knows Batad exists, it's the only other town there. But either we know what we're talking about or we don't. If we know what we're talking about, he doesn't have us anyways, but if we don't, then he might as well go for broke. Which he did. Anyway, that wasn't really completely the end of the troubles. Getting off the bus, you can see the people who knew absolutely what they were doing had already gone on their way, and a few unfortunate people were being hassled by people like the kid on the bus. All we had to do, was to find a way to get down the road to Batad.
Dun dun dunnnnnn....
More to come sooner than later, friends and neighbors!!!
Another definite highlight from Manila - the Philippine National Museum right near Rizal park.
The museum on the whole seems almost abandoned. It's the middle of the day, so of course, no one's really even out, let alone in the mood to walk through a huge park to a museum. Walking in, you see a series of large wooden doors down hallways. They are all closed. It seems almost more like a quiet office park, and in order to see if a gallery is open, you pretty much have to try the door. There are about 4 galleries on each floor, and each floor has at least one or two galleries whose doors don't open. The majority of the exhibits in the museum are artifacts recovered from shipwrecks - from chinese bowls to spanish utensils, and so on - essentially it seems as though the entire museum is dedicated to reconstructing the country's history from what didn't make it to its destination. Very interesting, but it was sort of the kind of situation where, after the 57th variation on a ceramic pot, your mind is understandably prone to wander. We were considering leaving before reaching the building's top floor, but were quite happy we didn't. On the top floor was a gallery featuring art (finally!), all new art from the current generation of Filipino artists, all of which had been honored with a special exhibition. The variety of media andtechniques was staggering and impressive - a vast exhibit, very encouraging to know that the younger generation has such a vivid sense of art and creativity. And though there was such a variety of subjects presented in a myriad of ways, each piece spoke to the troubling sociopolitical atmosphere of The Philippines. In so many ways, it seems a country poised on the brink of extinction. The government is undeniably and transparently corrupt, the people poor, the land suffering. But a country can't just disappear, and so it is trapped in a spiral of problems, all of which compound upon each other. A very disconcerting thing, especially for what I would soon find to be the most beautiful place I've ever seen.
Side Context: When Lucy lived here, she would take trips for her studies into the country, away from Manila. The state of the streets would shift constantly - two paved roads, only one paved road, no paved roads. Local officials, in order to receive funding for projects, must supply before and after photographs of roads. Often, they will take a picture of a section before, have only that section paved, take a picture of it after, collect their money, and neglect the rest of the road. Or, some will check to see who voted for them in the last election. If you didn't, the mark would show as a road unpaved right in your neighborhood, in front of your house.
This turmoil was absolutely reflected in the museum's top floor artwork. One of the most stunning pieces was a canvas, sectioned off into a sea of small geometric shapes by metal walls lying on top of it. Inside each metal compartment, on the canvas, was painted a mummified figure, bent to adjust to the shape of its container. I know, sort of difficult to explain, but the piece was absolutely stunning, regardless. I suppose the grander idea here is that these artists know what the many things are that are wrong with the country, the people who awarded them prizes and chose to display their work also know, pretty much everyone knows, but there's really no clear way to fix it.
"Onwards"
So, the very first place we decided to go was up north to see the rice terraces in Batad and Banaue. There is an overnight bus which leaves from Manila - you get on it, fall asleep, and BAM: 7 o'clock in the morning, you wake up, and you're in Banaue! Easy, right? Sort of. Essentially, the moment we decide to head up to the bus station, there is a torrential downpour, and we are greeted by a series of taxis who decide that they are not going to turn on the meter - instead, they ask "How much will you pay me?" Of course, when we send these taxis away (we always do - it's a matter of sense not to encourage them by paying the "I'm an American" tax), we find one old man who doesn't want to take us to that area because it floods. After calling the number listed on the ticket, to find another way (the number actually does not connect you to the bus company - rather, puts you on the phone with a confused man who does not speak English, except for the phrase "I am not a taxi." Thanks a lot.) Aaaanyway, we sort of "OhGodwhatdowedo" our way into making the driver take us anyways. It was not flooded and I think we tipped him about 100 percent.
Getting on the bus, it is cold. End of story. Freezing freezing icicles-growing-down-your-earlobes-like-Jack-Frost cold. We manage to kind of sleep our way through it. Very nicely, before I drift off to a state which may have been sleep, may have been a state in which my body is cooled to a point at which it just slows down, not unlike cryogenics, I watch the beginning of the in-bus movie, Casino Royale, which I'm quite partial to. I watch Daniel Craig chase a guy along a crane, I watch a building blow up, and I drift off. Not long after, I shift and wake up. Craning my neck to see the screen, I see Judi Dench discussing in her apartment with Daniel Craig. Except, I seem to have missed the point at which the film switched over to voiceovers in Russian. The rest of the movie is in Russian. I don't know why. Probably the same geniuses who operated on those subtitles for Lost. So, the sun comes up, 7 o'clock rolls around, and just like I said it: BAM. We're in Banaue.
Banaue is well known for its rice terraces. If you go into a travel agency in Manila, all the posters depicting rice terraces will say "BANAUE." This is where everyone goes, where tourists would outnumber the Filipinos, if there weren't so darn many Filipinos. Thus, it is also well known that all of the people getting off the bus are tourists, and very likely have no idea where they are or where to go. (If you hear sirens go off in your head, and a disembodied voice yelling, "Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!!!" you are right to hear that). I'm still wiping the sleep drool off my cheek, when people have already gotten off, but a small bunch of people from Banaue have gotten on. "Are you looking for a place to stay?" "Hotel?" "Breakfast?" etc. etc. Now, we knew that this place was not where we wanted to stay. Down the road from Banaue is the quieter less-travelled town of Batad, and we knew that, in order to avoid this hubbub (sp?), we would make a beeline for Batad, and maybe walk through Banaue the last day, on our way out of the rice terrace area. So, we already had this in mind. A teenage kid comes up to us, as we gather our things, still on the bus. "Are you looking for a hotel?" We say no, we already have a place in mind. "Where in Banaue is your hotel?" We're not staying in Banaue. He seems shocked "You are not staying in Banaue?" "No," I replied, "we are staying in Batad. "
I see a beat pass very quickly in his mind. Very quickly - if you weren't watching him closely, you might not even notice his decision to go for it. He stares back at me blankly, and speaks mock-dumb, "...that exists...?" I laugh and walk off the bus. It's hard not to. God bless this kid, for really going for it. He could be a crooked politician when he grows up, if he works hard enough.
If I didn't know better, I would have likely believed him. This is why it seems challenging at times to travel in the Philippines. It seems "easy" to get taken advantage of, and that seems to scare people. But, in all reality, you could potentially go to a series of all-inclusive resorts. And if you want a little adventure, all you have to do is have your wits about you - just as if you were back home in America. If a teenager comes on your bus, as you get off of it in the middle of New York or something, and starts asking you if you need a place to stay, I assume you wouldn't smile, grab his hand, and yell "Okay, buddy, whatever you say! I trust you completely!" Same here. People like this kid have it down to an art. He knows we're not staying there. He knows Batad exists, it's the only other town there. But either we know what we're talking about or we don't. If we know what we're talking about, he doesn't have us anyways, but if we don't, then he might as well go for broke. Which he did. Anyway, that wasn't really completely the end of the troubles. Getting off the bus, you can see the people who knew absolutely what they were doing had already gone on their way, and a few unfortunate people were being hassled by people like the kid on the bus. All we had to do, was to find a way to get down the road to Batad.
Dun dun dunnnnnn....
More to come sooner than later, friends and neighbors!!!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
The Land of a Thousand Straws
"Imagine crisp, oven-baked creamy crackers overflowing with the mouth-watering savory taste of corned beef!" The words call emphatically from the back of just one of the many treats in my Philippine Airlines in-flight snackbag (which I will not be eating) effectively giving me one more thing in my life I have been asked to imagine, that I will now have to go out of my way not to imagine. Nestling the "Blue Skies Corned Beef Flavored Crackers)" next to the Chicken-Flavor peanuts, I note that this flight is a somewhat somber occasion - it is the last flight I will be taking within the Philippines. Travelling is usually a curious thing - it's kind of like any of the forbidden things from a fantasy novel - once you've had a taste, you want more. This trip to The Philippines has been no exception.
I recall being slightly wary about this 7 week excursion, from the beginning, way back when it was in the hypothetical stage. The longest trip for me, ever, away from the States. Did I really want to spend nearly half of it in a place where, according to my parents and their friends, cab drivers team up with robbers, and drive you to a place out of the way, where their friends jump in the back of the cab and steal your watch at gunpoint? (Unless you're smart like me. I don't wear watches!) Where backpackers are kidnapped on a regular basis, in the remote north? Where pirates roam the waterways in salty phalanxes, free to satisfy their aquatic wanton desires, wherever one of the Philippines' ample tributaries flow??? Maybe a little exaggeration, but it seems to be that one can never exaggerate enough, when it comes to the Philippines.
Over the course of the past three weeks, I've scrawled a number of little notes to remember in my portable pocket moleskine, but have felt somewhat ashamed that I haven't really been able to take the time to sit down and inform my readers of the trip's progress. At this point, though, I'm actually happy typing, looking back on my experience as a whole, and reporting to you the impressions with which I am left. The biggest of which is simply that I am very excited for the next trip I get to take back to the Philippines, and that it happens (relatively) soon.
We've seen a lot - but regardless of how much I ignored everyone who, upon arriving, said, "You're here three months? No? Three weeks? That's not enough!" the fact is, and always has been, that three weeks in The Philippines is nothing. It's like when Charlie Bucket says he's eaten two Wonka bars, and his math/science teacher just assumes he's had two hundred, because it makes more sense (Where did that movie take place, anyways? It was like England or Europe, but all the protagonists were American? Whatever). There's just too many Wonka bars (things to experience in The Philippines) to have just two Wonka bars (three weeks). Stick with me here. It's late.
We've seen as much from north to south, as we have from top to bottom, hiking along the mountaintop rice terraces of Batad, to peering at ribbon eels 20 meters under the surface of the ocean. And it's been a wonderful, if somewhat superficial, look at the beautiful and complicated country that is the Philippines.
We started, like most trips here, by landing in Manila. Manila is dirty - cough-inducing exhaust permeates the atmosphere. Manila is hot. Manila is humid. The whole thing has a soporific effect which, coupled with the fact that the pollution pushes you indoors, warrants frequent napping - in and of itself not a bad thing, but I mean, we're in another country, here! These first three days really gave me a different perspective on the fact that Lucy lived here. Literally, in this very place we were staying. She spent 30 times as long as I would spend here in Malate, the red-light district, and I find it all the more amazing/impressive, after having spent some time here.
Some might say Manila is just another big city, but it really isn't. Having just come from Tokyo and Bangkok, I'd say Manila is like any other big city (somewhere in between Tokyo and Bangkok), with the exception of destinations. What was the first thing we did upon arriving, after checking in? We went where everyone goes to escape the heat: The Mall. Ah, the mall, that towering air-conditioned bastian of capitalist commerce. We watched Iron Man, which if you haven't seen it (and even if you have) blows Indiana Jones out of the water. Who'da thunk that the whiny romantic wus guy from Swingers would direct a better action hero movie that Steven flippin Spielberg?
Time Out: It's bedtime. We're headed to Hong Kong tomorrow, but more on the Phil's to come!
I recall being slightly wary about this 7 week excursion, from the beginning, way back when it was in the hypothetical stage. The longest trip for me, ever, away from the States. Did I really want to spend nearly half of it in a place where, according to my parents and their friends, cab drivers team up with robbers, and drive you to a place out of the way, where their friends jump in the back of the cab and steal your watch at gunpoint? (Unless you're smart like me. I don't wear watches!) Where backpackers are kidnapped on a regular basis, in the remote north? Where pirates roam the waterways in salty phalanxes, free to satisfy their aquatic wanton desires, wherever one of the Philippines' ample tributaries flow??? Maybe a little exaggeration, but it seems to be that one can never exaggerate enough, when it comes to the Philippines.
Over the course of the past three weeks, I've scrawled a number of little notes to remember in my portable pocket moleskine, but have felt somewhat ashamed that I haven't really been able to take the time to sit down and inform my readers of the trip's progress. At this point, though, I'm actually happy typing, looking back on my experience as a whole, and reporting to you the impressions with which I am left. The biggest of which is simply that I am very excited for the next trip I get to take back to the Philippines, and that it happens (relatively) soon.
We've seen a lot - but regardless of how much I ignored everyone who, upon arriving, said, "You're here three months? No? Three weeks? That's not enough!" the fact is, and always has been, that three weeks in The Philippines is nothing. It's like when Charlie Bucket says he's eaten two Wonka bars, and his math/science teacher just assumes he's had two hundred, because it makes more sense (Where did that movie take place, anyways? It was like England or Europe, but all the protagonists were American? Whatever). There's just too many Wonka bars (things to experience in The Philippines) to have just two Wonka bars (three weeks). Stick with me here. It's late.
We've seen as much from north to south, as we have from top to bottom, hiking along the mountaintop rice terraces of Batad, to peering at ribbon eels 20 meters under the surface of the ocean. And it's been a wonderful, if somewhat superficial, look at the beautiful and complicated country that is the Philippines.
We started, like most trips here, by landing in Manila. Manila is dirty - cough-inducing exhaust permeates the atmosphere. Manila is hot. Manila is humid. The whole thing has a soporific effect which, coupled with the fact that the pollution pushes you indoors, warrants frequent napping - in and of itself not a bad thing, but I mean, we're in another country, here! These first three days really gave me a different perspective on the fact that Lucy lived here. Literally, in this very place we were staying. She spent 30 times as long as I would spend here in Malate, the red-light district, and I find it all the more amazing/impressive, after having spent some time here.
Some might say Manila is just another big city, but it really isn't. Having just come from Tokyo and Bangkok, I'd say Manila is like any other big city (somewhere in between Tokyo and Bangkok), with the exception of destinations. What was the first thing we did upon arriving, after checking in? We went where everyone goes to escape the heat: The Mall. Ah, the mall, that towering air-conditioned bastian of capitalist commerce. We watched Iron Man, which if you haven't seen it (and even if you have) blows Indiana Jones out of the water. Who'da thunk that the whiny romantic wus guy from Swingers would direct a better action hero movie that Steven flippin Spielberg?
Time Out: It's bedtime. We're headed to Hong Kong tomorrow, but more on the Phil's to come!
Saturday, May 24, 2008
One Day In Bangkok
Welcome Back!
Moving on from a city as wonderful and comfortable as Tokyo was kind of sad. Spending as little time as we are in all these places, it makes you realize that you could spend so much more time in all of them. I'd love to go experience Kyoto, and Osaka, and so much more of Tokyo, than we could in 6 days. I suppose travelling just gives you tastes of things; just more to see. So, although I was happy to go on with our trip, Japan/Tokyo now has the distinction of a place to make a point to return to in the future, it has a nice little place in my memory, and it has our damn digital camera battery and charger. We forgot it in the hotel, and now we're looking for a new charger.
"I would take Thai Airways pretty much anywhere."
Here I am in coach from Tokyo to Thailand, and I can pick my own movie and/or tv show and/or interactive game. Over the course of the 6 hour flight, Lucy and I watched episodes of Arrested Development, Pushing Daisies, and the majority of "The Savages" (which is fantasic). They even had an episode of Dexter available! OH: and the tv control turns into a videogame controller, and we played blackjack and poker, and old school super mario bros. If I wanted, I could challenge Lucy, or any other interested member of the main cabin to trivia or pong or centipede or anything. And their meals were great. Just to let you know - I would probably take a Thai Airways flight to the supermarket, if I could.
"But where do we play Chess?"
Despite being very eager to move on to the Philippines, 1/1.5 days in Bangkok aren't really what I'd call "enough." It's a very vibrant city, punctuated by gorgeously intricate hallmarks of Buddhist history, and occasional centers of upscale commerce, and swathed in very real, very present poverty. And in this way, it was unlike any place I had previously been. With every corner you turn, every boat pier from which you disembark, there are motorcab drivers who will ask you where you are going, and when you tell them, will in turn say "It's closed today," or "It doesn't open until later," in order to offer you a ride "around the city," which very likely leads to some sort of scam. Being aware of this is very important in the city, and usually they'll give excuses like this, even where, upon looking up at your destination, you can see tourists filing in and out. It's not even really what I would call a problem, just because it was very obvious, and actually entertaining, in a way, to see what people would come up with.
SO, basically, after landing at Suvarnabhumi Airport (pronounced sa-wa-na-poom, for some reason), we took a cab to our fabulous, although difficult to find, hotel (I have strong suspicions that the street naming process in Bangkok was created by someone who either is or has the city planning savvy of a lobotomized goat. Our address essentially meant "the 46th building on the 1st alley off of Thewet, which is not actually a labelled street, but is instead an area of a different street, which has two different names, neither of which are Thewet, and which are also not labelled). Hotel Phranakorn Nornlen is owned by a former Miss Thailand, and she's done a superb job - accommodations come with a fabulous vegetarian breakfast each morning (might as well start your day off with a dose of good karma, right?), there is an attentive and endlessly helpful staff, and they are currently working on cultivating an organic garden on the rooftop, so they can provide their own food to the people who stay there. Oh! And it had free internet and computers! Which is spectacular, considering the fact that our computer is beyond repair... It was essentially a backpackers' dream place - reflected in the price, which while relatively expensive by backpackers standards, was less than a third of what we paid per night in Tokyo. I'd say one of the few things I had to get used to was the fact that there was no distinction between the shower and the rest of the bathroom. Meaning, that a medium-length shower would leave you standing in a bathroom with about a quarter-inch-deep pool of water covering the floor, which would eventually dissipate slowly down the drain over the next ten minutes or so. Still, gorgeous accommodations, and a very nice, large, clean bathroom, all things considered.
"Muay Thai Relaxation"
It was at this hotel where I had my first Thai massage. Now, up until this point, I was under the impression that a Thai massage was just someone beating the crap out of you. I wasn't completely off base. Indeed, up until this point, I had only had massages which were in various states of undress, and during which my limbs were not manipulated into a series of yogic stretches, while a masseuse pummeled the muscles. Suffice it to say, it was a new experience. And not at all a bad one. Sitting up Indian style (note to self: is that PC?) both hands behind my head, fingers interlocked, not unlike as if I were held up mid-elementary school assembly, the masseuse swung my torso to the side, cracking my back, and proceeded to smack the underside of my arms. Audibly. And for some reason, it all worked quite well. Indeed, the fact that you are fully clothed during a Thai massage really works in the interests of practicality. One would think it rather uncomfortable for both the client and the masseuse, for the client to be anything approximating nude while on his or her back, as his or her leg is bent at the knee, turned to the side, and pushed back over the head.
"No One Here Knows Who Murray Head Is"
The massages, oddly enough, were the last thing we did at the hotel, before we checked out. The previous day was really where we explored the city. We basically went from Buddhist Temple to Buddhist Temple, braving crowds, heights, and heatstroke. The Grand Palace was impressive. The temple there, amazing. It's really difficult to sum up - the intricacy of the sparkling mosaic exteriors was simply breathtaking. The interior paintings, and the 9 meter high, golden statue-bedecked platform, on which the jade "Emerald Buddha" is enshrined is a sight to behold, and which pictures could not do justice, even if they were allowed inside this holy site. It's massive and gorgeous, focusing on a revered and beautiful image of the Buddha which you are not to point your feet at, out of respect. We sat in the temple for a while, taking in the amazing surroundings. Just a wonderful experience, to have the opportunity to explore, and appreciate another culture and another faith. From there we went to Wat Po, which houses a massive "reclining Buddha." This statue is housed in a building which basically just fits it - it's just gigantic and pretty darn awesome - with a row of 109 pots for donations which don't even run 3/4 the length of the corridor. We then went to the "Temple of The Dawn" Wat Arun, which was across the river. This temple features a series of increasingly-narrow-stepped staircases, which you have to weather in order to see the beautiful view of Bangkok and the Chao Phraya river. It's very much worth the climb. Thank goodness for handrails!
"And Then..."
Okay, so then we walked through Chinatown, got some gifts, and went to the mall. I know. But it was a pretty great mall, and we had dinner and whatnot, and then went to the VIP movie theatre. So, there were some travellers at the hotel who had told us about it - and really, it was a great flippin experience. The refreshments at the Bangkok movie theatre were relatively inexpensive - certainly far cheaper than in the states, but the VIP theatre is special, in that you are seated in small alcoves of two huge comfy reclining electric leather chairs - and thus, the VIP theatre tickets are among the most expensive I've ever bought. But you are given a blanket and a pillow, and served drinks and popcorn, both of which come in one size: big ass size. So, we sat and watched "Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of The Crystal Skull." Which, brings us to this:
I hate George Lucas.
That is pretty much my review of the movie. The guy wrote the lame story, and it's an outlandish, albeit sometimes fun, movie that jumps the shark at one very specific point. You may or may not agree. Is it better than no Indiana Jones movie? Sure! Of course it is! A lot of things are. And it's still entertaining. And Shia La Boeuuoeuuf actually does some of the very best acting in this movie - he's quite good.
But why is there so much expository dialogue? Why does the end suck? Why is the first half so much better than the second? Why is the life sapped out of every interesting character (Karen Allen, Cate Blanchett, and yes, Harrison Ford have a whole lot of mediocre script to make up for) who I have such an interest in? And, honestly: Monkeys??? Might as well have thrown in some flippin ewoks, while you're at it. What the heck, make the big secret be that Cate Blanchett's character is actually Jar Jar Binks. Which shows you what a memorable character it was - I don't even remember the name.
Anyway, the answer to all of those questions:
Stay tuned in 2009 for American Graffiti: Old People With Cars, and what the heck, a crapload of cgi just because they can.
Sorry for the rant - it's hard to keep stuff like that really contained. As a side note, Rasheed mentioned the possibility of me playing "Son of Short Round" in a sequel. And, quite frankly, I am more than happy to take this on. I think I could really provide a nice tan counterpart to Shia LaBeuoueueuouf's character. Maybe Short Round's son turned out to be an accountant. That might suit me. Anyway, perhaps while he's rummaging through his repertoire for things to bring back, Lucas will stumble upon his original sense of creativity. It'd be nice if he could dust that off for us.
Hmm. This post was supposed to be about Bangkok, wasn't it? Yikes. Sorry. I love Bangkok. And if you get the chance to go, try to take it from someone who knows: spend more than a day and a half there.
On the plus side, we are in the Philippines, planning on heading up north on the overnight bus to see the rice terraces in Banaue tomorrow night. I'll catch y'all up on this leg of the trip in a few. Thanks for reading, and have a great night! See y'all in July!
~phil~
P.S. We saw Iron Man the night we got into Manila. Who woulda thunk that the whiny romantic guy from Swingers would direct a better action movie than Steven Spielberg. Okay, I'm done now, I promise.
Moving on from a city as wonderful and comfortable as Tokyo was kind of sad. Spending as little time as we are in all these places, it makes you realize that you could spend so much more time in all of them. I'd love to go experience Kyoto, and Osaka, and so much more of Tokyo, than we could in 6 days. I suppose travelling just gives you tastes of things; just more to see. So, although I was happy to go on with our trip, Japan/Tokyo now has the distinction of a place to make a point to return to in the future, it has a nice little place in my memory, and it has our damn digital camera battery and charger. We forgot it in the hotel, and now we're looking for a new charger.
"I would take Thai Airways pretty much anywhere."
Here I am in coach from Tokyo to Thailand, and I can pick my own movie and/or tv show and/or interactive game. Over the course of the 6 hour flight, Lucy and I watched episodes of Arrested Development, Pushing Daisies, and the majority of "The Savages" (which is fantasic). They even had an episode of Dexter available! OH: and the tv control turns into a videogame controller, and we played blackjack and poker, and old school super mario bros. If I wanted, I could challenge Lucy, or any other interested member of the main cabin to trivia or pong or centipede or anything. And their meals were great. Just to let you know - I would probably take a Thai Airways flight to the supermarket, if I could.
"But where do we play Chess?"
Despite being very eager to move on to the Philippines, 1/1.5 days in Bangkok aren't really what I'd call "enough." It's a very vibrant city, punctuated by gorgeously intricate hallmarks of Buddhist history, and occasional centers of upscale commerce, and swathed in very real, very present poverty. And in this way, it was unlike any place I had previously been. With every corner you turn, every boat pier from which you disembark, there are motorcab drivers who will ask you where you are going, and when you tell them, will in turn say "It's closed today," or "It doesn't open until later," in order to offer you a ride "around the city," which very likely leads to some sort of scam. Being aware of this is very important in the city, and usually they'll give excuses like this, even where, upon looking up at your destination, you can see tourists filing in and out. It's not even really what I would call a problem, just because it was very obvious, and actually entertaining, in a way, to see what people would come up with.
SO, basically, after landing at Suvarnabhumi Airport (pronounced sa-wa-na-poom, for some reason), we took a cab to our fabulous, although difficult to find, hotel (I have strong suspicions that the street naming process in Bangkok was created by someone who either is or has the city planning savvy of a lobotomized goat. Our address essentially meant "the 46th building on the 1st alley off of Thewet, which is not actually a labelled street, but is instead an area of a different street, which has two different names, neither of which are Thewet, and which are also not labelled). Hotel Phranakorn Nornlen is owned by a former Miss Thailand, and she's done a superb job - accommodations come with a fabulous vegetarian breakfast each morning (might as well start your day off with a dose of good karma, right?), there is an attentive and endlessly helpful staff, and they are currently working on cultivating an organic garden on the rooftop, so they can provide their own food to the people who stay there. Oh! And it had free internet and computers! Which is spectacular, considering the fact that our computer is beyond repair... It was essentially a backpackers' dream place - reflected in the price, which while relatively expensive by backpackers standards, was less than a third of what we paid per night in Tokyo. I'd say one of the few things I had to get used to was the fact that there was no distinction between the shower and the rest of the bathroom. Meaning, that a medium-length shower would leave you standing in a bathroom with about a quarter-inch-deep pool of water covering the floor, which would eventually dissipate slowly down the drain over the next ten minutes or so. Still, gorgeous accommodations, and a very nice, large, clean bathroom, all things considered.
"Muay Thai Relaxation"
It was at this hotel where I had my first Thai massage. Now, up until this point, I was under the impression that a Thai massage was just someone beating the crap out of you. I wasn't completely off base. Indeed, up until this point, I had only had massages which were in various states of undress, and during which my limbs were not manipulated into a series of yogic stretches, while a masseuse pummeled the muscles. Suffice it to say, it was a new experience. And not at all a bad one. Sitting up Indian style (note to self: is that PC?) both hands behind my head, fingers interlocked, not unlike as if I were held up mid-elementary school assembly, the masseuse swung my torso to the side, cracking my back, and proceeded to smack the underside of my arms. Audibly. And for some reason, it all worked quite well. Indeed, the fact that you are fully clothed during a Thai massage really works in the interests of practicality. One would think it rather uncomfortable for both the client and the masseuse, for the client to be anything approximating nude while on his or her back, as his or her leg is bent at the knee, turned to the side, and pushed back over the head.
"No One Here Knows Who Murray Head Is"
The massages, oddly enough, were the last thing we did at the hotel, before we checked out. The previous day was really where we explored the city. We basically went from Buddhist Temple to Buddhist Temple, braving crowds, heights, and heatstroke. The Grand Palace was impressive. The temple there, amazing. It's really difficult to sum up - the intricacy of the sparkling mosaic exteriors was simply breathtaking. The interior paintings, and the 9 meter high, golden statue-bedecked platform, on which the jade "Emerald Buddha" is enshrined is a sight to behold, and which pictures could not do justice, even if they were allowed inside this holy site. It's massive and gorgeous, focusing on a revered and beautiful image of the Buddha which you are not to point your feet at, out of respect. We sat in the temple for a while, taking in the amazing surroundings. Just a wonderful experience, to have the opportunity to explore, and appreciate another culture and another faith. From there we went to Wat Po, which houses a massive "reclining Buddha." This statue is housed in a building which basically just fits it - it's just gigantic and pretty darn awesome - with a row of 109 pots for donations which don't even run 3/4 the length of the corridor. We then went to the "Temple of The Dawn" Wat Arun, which was across the river. This temple features a series of increasingly-narrow-stepped staircases, which you have to weather in order to see the beautiful view of Bangkok and the Chao Phraya river. It's very much worth the climb. Thank goodness for handrails!
"And Then..."
Okay, so then we walked through Chinatown, got some gifts, and went to the mall. I know. But it was a pretty great mall, and we had dinner and whatnot, and then went to the VIP movie theatre. So, there were some travellers at the hotel who had told us about it - and really, it was a great flippin experience. The refreshments at the Bangkok movie theatre were relatively inexpensive - certainly far cheaper than in the states, but the VIP theatre is special, in that you are seated in small alcoves of two huge comfy reclining electric leather chairs - and thus, the VIP theatre tickets are among the most expensive I've ever bought. But you are given a blanket and a pillow, and served drinks and popcorn, both of which come in one size: big ass size. So, we sat and watched "Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of The Crystal Skull." Which, brings us to this:
I hate George Lucas.
That is pretty much my review of the movie. The guy wrote the lame story, and it's an outlandish, albeit sometimes fun, movie that jumps the shark at one very specific point. You may or may not agree. Is it better than no Indiana Jones movie? Sure! Of course it is! A lot of things are. And it's still entertaining. And Shia La Boeuuoeuuf actually does some of the very best acting in this movie - he's quite good.
But why is there so much expository dialogue? Why does the end suck? Why is the first half so much better than the second? Why is the life sapped out of every interesting character (Karen Allen, Cate Blanchett, and yes, Harrison Ford have a whole lot of mediocre script to make up for) who I have such an interest in? And, honestly: Monkeys??? Might as well have thrown in some flippin ewoks, while you're at it. What the heck, make the big secret be that Cate Blanchett's character is actually Jar Jar Binks. Which shows you what a memorable character it was - I don't even remember the name.
Anyway, the answer to all of those questions:
Stay tuned in 2009 for American Graffiti: Old People With Cars, and what the heck, a crapload of cgi just because they can.
Sorry for the rant - it's hard to keep stuff like that really contained. As a side note, Rasheed mentioned the possibility of me playing "Son of Short Round" in a sequel. And, quite frankly, I am more than happy to take this on. I think I could really provide a nice tan counterpart to Shia LaBeuoueueuouf's character. Maybe Short Round's son turned out to be an accountant. That might suit me. Anyway, perhaps while he's rummaging through his repertoire for things to bring back, Lucas will stumble upon his original sense of creativity. It'd be nice if he could dust that off for us.
Hmm. This post was supposed to be about Bangkok, wasn't it? Yikes. Sorry. I love Bangkok. And if you get the chance to go, try to take it from someone who knows: spend more than a day and a half there.
On the plus side, we are in the Philippines, planning on heading up north on the overnight bus to see the rice terraces in Banaue tomorrow night. I'll catch y'all up on this leg of the trip in a few. Thanks for reading, and have a great night! See y'all in July!
~phil~
P.S. We saw Iron Man the night we got into Manila. Who woulda thunk that the whiny romantic guy from Swingers would direct a better action movie than Steven Spielberg. Okay, I'm done now, I promise.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Tokyotastic
Sorry to have left so suddenly, last post. Where was I?
Oh yes, sooo.... The computer was broken. And I had no money to pay for an internet cafe. Essentially, the better part of the first half of the day was wandering around trying to find a bank that would change our money. Of course, I didn't figure in the time change and the fact that it was now Saturday instead of Friday, and most of the banks were closed, so we did sort of a defeatist move and tried to get wifi in the only place we knew would probably have it: That's right, a Starbucks. It didnt actually have wifi (wtf, japan? get on that."), but since it actually took credit cards we had our first japanese breakfast - a grande caramel frappuccino and a grande java chip frappuccino, both of which we enjoyed walking down the street towards a vague destination (shinjuku will probably have a money changing place. somewhere. riiiight?), following the one book we had left - a tokyo street map with no actual guidance or tips or anything other than maps. So, basically, were in flippin Tokyo and the first thing we do in the morning is get frappuccinos and walk down the street with a guidebook. It was beautiful. If we were a superhero duo team, we would have been Mr. and Mrs. American Tourist. Speaking of new places and languages, it's time for:
TokyoTravelTip 2!
"Our Friend, Pronunciation"
Here's a quick little way to help you with the tricky multisyllabic nature of the Japanese language. Open up a map or a book or something, written in letters you understand. Now, look at a medium-length to long word. Say it aloud, for starters. Now, take note of all the syllables you accentuated. Circle them on the page in the book. Now cross them all out. Pronounce/accentuate all of the leftover syllables. Congratulations! You are now pronouncing Japanese words correctly!
Aaaaanyway, eventually we got some money changed (which is good, because we would soon find that both of our atm pins were too long to take money out at any atm), and Tokyo was a ball. We wandered through the impressive gardens of the imperial palace, wandered through the gorgeous frenetically-lit streets of roppongi, ginza (yeah! free wifi at the mac store!), and shibuya (the ubiquitous blinking lights of tokyo would make a 12 year old with ADD and a candy-binge-fuelled sugar rush stop and go "holy crap, thats a lot of lights.") ate a bunch of raw fish in a shack at the Tsukiji fish market (if you go, honestly go to this thing. show up at 5 am and watch the Tuna auction - its the one thing we would have done if we had longer), ate a bunch of raw fish in a place underneat the train tracks (eat in places underneath the train tracks too - amazing), and ate a bunch of raw fish in the most elaborate restaurant Ive ever eaten at (more to come on that later).
Hey, guess what? Its time for
TokyoTravelTip 3!
I am a size large in Tokyo.
I know, thats not really a tip. But, seriously, what the crap??? How is it that in Tokyo I am an underdressed (as in, "Are we the only two people on this subway car not wearing three piece suits?") fat American?
"The Marionette Scene from Sound of Music Meets An Opera With A Lot Of Dishonor And Suicide"
We saw a good amount of theatre in Tokyo. It was actually really really awesome. We did see a gorgeous kabuki theatre production in the big ole kabuki theatre - flippin 6 bucks for balcony tickets for one act! And that was two hours!!! The other thing we saw was a gorgeous full Bunraku production at the National theatre. Let me explain Bunraku. Bunraku is puppets, yes. Puppets roughly half the size of regular people, with tiny heads. But they are used to tell a story very much like a japanese opera. The story is sung by a series of narrators and accompanists. I guess, sort of picture Avenue Q. Now picture Avenue Q with maybe a 12th of the humor, but mostly about honor and seppuku and whatnot, and with only a fraction of the nudity (which, yes, I will admit, surprised me). And four and a half hours long. Yeah, there you go - that would be Bunraku. Gorgeous production, though - I would highly recommend it. And their bento boxes for the 25 minute intermission are enough to share, just so you know.
"Shooooooooo RYU GIN!!!!"
We ate a lot of wonderful food in Japan. Even outside of Starbucks (which we sadly visited twice more during the trip) Honestly, the fish market had some of the freshest seafood ever. Even the place under the tracks had the best mackerel Ive ever had. But we closed out the trip with a sumptuous dinner at the Michelin-rated "Ryu Gin." There were a number of questions which entered my head, throughout this meal. How are there twelve courses? Why are three of them dessert? How is each accompanied with its own tea? How did that meal just take three and a half hours (the subway is already closed)? How did the last of the desserts feature a tomato? And why did I love it so much? This was daring food. Gorgeous, progressive food, but firmly rooted, unmistakably Japanese. I dont want to give anything away, in case any of you goes there, but the chef is creative, brilliant. And not in a way, where you are like, "what the hell am I eating this for?" but "why the hell cant I eat like this more often." It was a spectacular capstone to our trip.
Anyways, weve actually already spent our day in Bangkok, and were packing up to leave for the Philippines tomorrow! Wooooo! Ill post on Bangkok later, but I will say - it is one of the most gorgeous places ever - more on that to come...
P.S. I hate George Lucas.
Oh yes, sooo.... The computer was broken. And I had no money to pay for an internet cafe. Essentially, the better part of the first half of the day was wandering around trying to find a bank that would change our money. Of course, I didn't figure in the time change and the fact that it was now Saturday instead of Friday, and most of the banks were closed, so we did sort of a defeatist move and tried to get wifi in the only place we knew would probably have it: That's right, a Starbucks. It didnt actually have wifi (wtf, japan? get on that."), but since it actually took credit cards we had our first japanese breakfast - a grande caramel frappuccino and a grande java chip frappuccino, both of which we enjoyed walking down the street towards a vague destination (shinjuku will probably have a money changing place. somewhere. riiiight?), following the one book we had left - a tokyo street map with no actual guidance or tips or anything other than maps. So, basically, were in flippin Tokyo and the first thing we do in the morning is get frappuccinos and walk down the street with a guidebook. It was beautiful. If we were a superhero duo team, we would have been Mr. and Mrs. American Tourist. Speaking of new places and languages, it's time for:
TokyoTravelTip 2!
"Our Friend, Pronunciation"
Here's a quick little way to help you with the tricky multisyllabic nature of the Japanese language. Open up a map or a book or something, written in letters you understand. Now, look at a medium-length to long word. Say it aloud, for starters. Now, take note of all the syllables you accentuated. Circle them on the page in the book. Now cross them all out. Pronounce/accentuate all of the leftover syllables. Congratulations! You are now pronouncing Japanese words correctly!
Aaaaanyway, eventually we got some money changed (which is good, because we would soon find that both of our atm pins were too long to take money out at any atm), and Tokyo was a ball. We wandered through the impressive gardens of the imperial palace, wandered through the gorgeous frenetically-lit streets of roppongi, ginza (yeah! free wifi at the mac store!), and shibuya (the ubiquitous blinking lights of tokyo would make a 12 year old with ADD and a candy-binge-fuelled sugar rush stop and go "holy crap, thats a lot of lights.") ate a bunch of raw fish in a shack at the Tsukiji fish market (if you go, honestly go to this thing. show up at 5 am and watch the Tuna auction - its the one thing we would have done if we had longer), ate a bunch of raw fish in a place underneat the train tracks (eat in places underneath the train tracks too - amazing), and ate a bunch of raw fish in the most elaborate restaurant Ive ever eaten at (more to come on that later).
Hey, guess what? Its time for
TokyoTravelTip 3!
I am a size large in Tokyo.
I know, thats not really a tip. But, seriously, what the crap??? How is it that in Tokyo I am an underdressed (as in, "Are we the only two people on this subway car not wearing three piece suits?") fat American?
"The Marionette Scene from Sound of Music Meets An Opera With A Lot Of Dishonor And Suicide"
We saw a good amount of theatre in Tokyo. It was actually really really awesome. We did see a gorgeous kabuki theatre production in the big ole kabuki theatre - flippin 6 bucks for balcony tickets for one act! And that was two hours!!! The other thing we saw was a gorgeous full Bunraku production at the National theatre. Let me explain Bunraku. Bunraku is puppets, yes. Puppets roughly half the size of regular people, with tiny heads. But they are used to tell a story very much like a japanese opera. The story is sung by a series of narrators and accompanists. I guess, sort of picture Avenue Q. Now picture Avenue Q with maybe a 12th of the humor, but mostly about honor and seppuku and whatnot, and with only a fraction of the nudity (which, yes, I will admit, surprised me). And four and a half hours long. Yeah, there you go - that would be Bunraku. Gorgeous production, though - I would highly recommend it. And their bento boxes for the 25 minute intermission are enough to share, just so you know.
"Shooooooooo RYU GIN!!!!"
We ate a lot of wonderful food in Japan. Even outside of Starbucks (which we sadly visited twice more during the trip) Honestly, the fish market had some of the freshest seafood ever. Even the place under the tracks had the best mackerel Ive ever had. But we closed out the trip with a sumptuous dinner at the Michelin-rated "Ryu Gin." There were a number of questions which entered my head, throughout this meal. How are there twelve courses? Why are three of them dessert? How is each accompanied with its own tea? How did that meal just take three and a half hours (the subway is already closed)? How did the last of the desserts feature a tomato? And why did I love it so much? This was daring food. Gorgeous, progressive food, but firmly rooted, unmistakably Japanese. I dont want to give anything away, in case any of you goes there, but the chef is creative, brilliant. And not in a way, where you are like, "what the hell am I eating this for?" but "why the hell cant I eat like this more often." It was a spectacular capstone to our trip.
Anyways, weve actually already spent our day in Bangkok, and were packing up to leave for the Philippines tomorrow! Wooooo! Ill post on Bangkok later, but I will say - it is one of the most gorgeous places ever - more on that to come...
P.S. I hate George Lucas.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Ohio Gozaymas-o-menos
“Introit”
Dear Faithful Reader,
It’s been many days since I first (and last) wrote. I apologize for having left you, no doubt clinging desperately to the edge of your foam-cushioned seat, fingers clenched in white-knuckled anticipation, fighting off sleep and the oncoming spectre of dread, in relentless vigil, awaiting another post. I assure you, both I and my travel companion are content and well-fed; indeed, brimming with the satisfaction of bellies full of raw fish, sweetly vinegared rice, and the best sake I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. This trip did not, however, begin in such a manner, and it is this very series of events which I hope will explain my absence.
"e.g."
Imagine, if you will, that you are in New York. Nay, Manhattan. Now, imagine Manhattan is a couple times the size and tenders its very own currency. I mean, other than spite and guff, which are freely traded in New York City like spices in the Orient. Now, imagine that you have managed to enter using your credit card, but you have none of the aforementioned currency. "Manhattan Bucks," we'll call them. You've kind of assumed, "Hey, the card worked to get me into the city - it will undoubtedly work to get me around and to my hotel as well!" Now you are told that the subway system only takes Manhattan Bucks, and your card is essentially an inert piece of plastic with a magnetic strip, with no value outside of the worth of its raw materials. Now imagine you are walking aimlessly spiraling out around the subway station for an hour, trying to find a bank or atm or anything which can extract the cash in Manhattan Bucks from your account, but all the banks are staffed by robots, and the atms don't even recognize your card, and no one can change your money to Manhattan Bucks, because there are no money changing places there, and every person you encounter only speaks the same crazy Manhattan moon language that's printed on all the signs, and that includes the poor guy in the subway office who couldn't accept credit/atm cards, if he wanted to.
Okay, so let's join Lucy and Phil as they putter around this guy's office. 500 worthless American dollars in hand, searching for options which can get them to their hotel, so they can start enjoying the city. We are in Tokyo, in the station, but can't get in to the trains because we don't have cash, and Lucy's been sitting in the subway pass guy's office for an hour, waiting with the bags.
"Can we use credit?" "No."
"Can we use travelers' checks?" "What are those?"
"Can we buy tickets from you?" "No. Just passes."
"Can we buy passes from you?" "Only with yen."
"Can we sell our American money, for its worth as a textile, or a food, or anything, to you, or anyone, so we can just get on the subway?"
And so on. Long story short, this brings us to:
TokyoTravelTip #1!
Q: What's the cheapest way to get around the Tokyo subway system?
A: Pity.
Now, with two of the subway pass office guy's generously given staff passes, we ride straight down to a gorgeous and relatively inexpensive hotel room. We check in - the room is lovely as well. The toilet seat even has features we won't even use. The seat heats up. And it plays noise/music when you sit on it. And it is fitted with one of Asia's ubiquitous bidet contraptions. The type where you have to activate the feature by pressing a button which looks not unlike a rotund lower-case w being sprayed with a stream of water with deadly accuracy. I note that whoever used this feature last had set the "water pressure" to its highest setting. And thus, my distrust deepens - Distrust in both a hypothetical person who requires such a focused stream of highly-pressurized water for such duties (this can only be indicative of a person prone to becoming unreasonably jaded), and distrust in a machine which needs a button for you to tell it to stop the aquatic photon-torpedo pummeling your netherregions.
Anyway, we go to the bags to take out the amazing Tokyo guidebook we skimmed through on the plane, ready to delve into the pages and plan our trip. But the guidebook is not in the bags. It is nowhere. Well, okay, that's not true. It is somewhere. And that somewhere is in the seatback pocket on the plane from which we disembarked about 3 hours ago. Probably nestled between a battered multi-lingual copy of SkyMall and the barf bag I spat my gum into. Oh well, no worries - let's plug the computer into our hotel's free internet and surf away. Oh wait. The computer is broken. And the internet in the lobby and every internet cafe we encounter only takes.... you guessed it: japanese yen.
So, this is our first day in Tokyo. We eventually just kind of ate at the hotel restaurant and went to sleep, resting up for our first full day in Tokyo.
But at that, I will have to leave you, with a big ole "To Be Continued."
Dun dun dunnnn......
Dear Faithful Reader,
It’s been many days since I first (and last) wrote. I apologize for having left you, no doubt clinging desperately to the edge of your foam-cushioned seat, fingers clenched in white-knuckled anticipation, fighting off sleep and the oncoming spectre of dread, in relentless vigil, awaiting another post. I assure you, both I and my travel companion are content and well-fed; indeed, brimming with the satisfaction of bellies full of raw fish, sweetly vinegared rice, and the best sake I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. This trip did not, however, begin in such a manner, and it is this very series of events which I hope will explain my absence.
"e.g."
Imagine, if you will, that you are in New York. Nay, Manhattan. Now, imagine Manhattan is a couple times the size and tenders its very own currency. I mean, other than spite and guff, which are freely traded in New York City like spices in the Orient. Now, imagine that you have managed to enter using your credit card, but you have none of the aforementioned currency. "Manhattan Bucks," we'll call them. You've kind of assumed, "Hey, the card worked to get me into the city - it will undoubtedly work to get me around and to my hotel as well!" Now you are told that the subway system only takes Manhattan Bucks, and your card is essentially an inert piece of plastic with a magnetic strip, with no value outside of the worth of its raw materials. Now imagine you are walking aimlessly spiraling out around the subway station for an hour, trying to find a bank or atm or anything which can extract the cash in Manhattan Bucks from your account, but all the banks are staffed by robots, and the atms don't even recognize your card, and no one can change your money to Manhattan Bucks, because there are no money changing places there, and every person you encounter only speaks the same crazy Manhattan moon language that's printed on all the signs, and that includes the poor guy in the subway office who couldn't accept credit/atm cards, if he wanted to.
Okay, so let's join Lucy and Phil as they putter around this guy's office. 500 worthless American dollars in hand, searching for options which can get them to their hotel, so they can start enjoying the city. We are in Tokyo, in the station, but can't get in to the trains because we don't have cash, and Lucy's been sitting in the subway pass guy's office for an hour, waiting with the bags.
"Can we use credit?" "No."
"Can we use travelers' checks?" "What are those?"
"Can we buy tickets from you?" "No. Just passes."
"Can we buy passes from you?" "Only with yen."
"Can we sell our American money, for its worth as a textile, or a food, or anything, to you, or anyone, so we can just get on the subway?"
And so on. Long story short, this brings us to:
TokyoTravelTip #1!
Q: What's the cheapest way to get around the Tokyo subway system?
A: Pity.
Now, with two of the subway pass office guy's generously given staff passes, we ride straight down to a gorgeous and relatively inexpensive hotel room. We check in - the room is lovely as well. The toilet seat even has features we won't even use. The seat heats up. And it plays noise/music when you sit on it. And it is fitted with one of Asia's ubiquitous bidet contraptions. The type where you have to activate the feature by pressing a button which looks not unlike a rotund lower-case w being sprayed with a stream of water with deadly accuracy. I note that whoever used this feature last had set the "water pressure" to its highest setting. And thus, my distrust deepens - Distrust in both a hypothetical person who requires such a focused stream of highly-pressurized water for such duties (this can only be indicative of a person prone to becoming unreasonably jaded), and distrust in a machine which needs a button for you to tell it to stop the aquatic photon-torpedo pummeling your netherregions.
Anyway, we go to the bags to take out the amazing Tokyo guidebook we skimmed through on the plane, ready to delve into the pages and plan our trip. But the guidebook is not in the bags. It is nowhere. Well, okay, that's not true. It is somewhere. And that somewhere is in the seatback pocket on the plane from which we disembarked about 3 hours ago. Probably nestled between a battered multi-lingual copy of SkyMall and the barf bag I spat my gum into. Oh well, no worries - let's plug the computer into our hotel's free internet and surf away. Oh wait. The computer is broken. And the internet in the lobby and every internet cafe we encounter only takes.... you guessed it: japanese yen.
So, this is our first day in Tokyo. We eventually just kind of ate at the hotel restaurant and went to sleep, resting up for our first full day in Tokyo.
But at that, I will have to leave you, with a big ole "To Be Continued."
Dun dun dunnnn......
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