June 29, 2004

Why Are These People Talking to Me?

Here in Eugene, people actually have conversation with random strangers. I'm not used to this. Where I come from (Long Island and Hoboken) we buy our stuff and want to be outta there ASAP.

When I was in the asian market next to Anthony's place yesterday, a little old lady was standing there staring at two different types of bananas. There were the standard big, long ones common in the States, and the smaller ones common in Asia.

"Excuse me, why are the smaller bananas more expensive than the bigger ones?" says Little Old Lady.

"Because they're different types, not just different sizes. The smaller ones are sweeter and from Asia most likely, more EXOTIC, " says I. In fact, it's the first time I've seen bananas bigger than 4 inches long since last September.

"But you don't get as many bananas for the price," says she.

"Well, a pound of small bananas and a pound of big bananas are both still a pound of bananas, and the price isn't really that different." At this point I thought about explaining the whole pound of feathers weighing the same as a pound of lead thing, but decided against it.

Then today, I decided to branch out from the asian market, and go to the big supermarket to buy Claudia friendly food (read instantly edible, no assembly required). My first stop was the cheese section. Ahh fromage... how I've missed you. This being Oregon, there were about eight thousand types of cheese and they had descriptions that read like wine labels:

"This semi-soft raw goat's milk cheese was rubbed in ash and then wedged up the goat's ass to give it a smokey flavor, blah blah blah, and a fine finish of rosemary."

As soon as I saw goat's cheese, I moved on. I like goat's cheese, but I'm not ready to eat more goat's anything after all the goat/sheep I consumed in Mongolia, often with the animal's head staring back at me from a stool across the ger. I looked behind me just to be sure nothing was staring back. I bought some unpronouncable cheese which had a sign saying it complimented olives and I was slightly disappointed that they didn't have any fresh mozzarella floating in water. That's what I was really hankering for with a bit of balsamic vinegar, but no such luck. I guess that's a NY thing.

I bought a few other things (RAN, not walked, by the bagel section because even seeing those tasty round shapes is torture when I can't have House of Bagels bagels) and nearly had a heart attack in the juice section from the massive selection. I'm used to orange and apple being the only options. I wanted to buy EVERYTHING. Cranberry, pink grapefruit, mango, you name it. How exciting!!! I refrained and just got one bottle.

I finished up, and went to check out. Here, another person wanted to have random conversation. "Did you find everything alright? Ahh, the olive bar, these are nice, I always love it when we get this cheese that I can't pronounce the name of in." I'm glad I hadn't bought any beer because it seems EVERYONE around here has opinions on their microbrews. I'm just not educated enough to be able to have an indepth chat about New Belgium's Loft Ale vs. New Cascade's Stout. Likewise about coffee. I can't tell the difference between the Kenyan Organic Blend beans and Starbucks. Sorry, I just can't. I'm not saying there isn't a difference, but I've been drinking Nescafe for a year, cut me some slack.

Speaking of organic.. everything is freakin organic. I saw a can of soup I almost bought for the label- Organic Chicken Broth Made From Free Range Chickens Fed Only Non Genetically Enhanced Grains. But it cost $4! Who the hell wants to spend $4 on something that you usually pay less than $1 for?

I feel like Oregon is another country. I'm not used to people being polite. In fact, when I'm on the bike, I keep thinking like a car driver and am imagining how annoying this jackass on the bike is for slowing them down. I had someone wait at a green light and wave me by (I had a red) while I was at a corner. I know these are supposed to be good things (help staff being helpful and polite, drivers not trying to run you down, random strangers having a nice little exchange) but I almost feel offended. I don't know how to respond. It's all very very odd. By the time I get used to it, it will be time to go back to NY and readjust all over again.

Posted by Claudia at 07:23 PM | Comments (0)

June 27, 2004

Two Wheelin'

I've been in Eugene, Oregon for a few days now. Anthony and I returned the rental car today and I realized I needed to find another way of getting around, as well as finding things to do to keep busy. We cruised by the library for me to get a bunch of books. I had been hoping to work on my photos, but as it turns out, that probably won't be happening.

Anyway, after taking out a pile of books, we strolled over one of the MANY bike shops in the area and bought me a fairly cheap bike. It's nothing overly special, but hell what do I know about bikes anyway? Here's a photo. I need to personalize it by putting some weird stickers I bought with a small skull and crossbone and Thai script on it. It's black and silver as opposed to some weird pansy color so that make it workable for me. I realize that's like picking a car for it's color, but since I'm completely ignorant about bikes, it's as good a reason as any other. Getting this thing home again in late July will be interesting I'm sure, but I'll deal with it then. As for now, maybe it will tone up my legs. :)

Posted by Claudia at 08:23 PM | Comments (5)

June 25, 2004

Culture Shock

I made it through my painfully long flights from Bangkok to Taipei to San Francisco to Portland without a problem. Well, if you can call having my bag dumped out and searched hardcore by customs not a problem... When the customs official asked me how long I'd been gone, where I went, etc, he marked something down on my form and I knew right away I was going to get shit.

I spent the next twenty minutes answering questions about where I had been, what I was doing there (stupid question really- travel) to which I wanted to answer "selling drugs and encouraging child prostitution." But I refrained. I wanted to catch my final flight to Portland...

I arrived in Portland where I was met by Mel Lasiw of Stevens days. She put me up, let me crash in her new pad, and best of all, let me use her washing machine. Ahhh... fresh clean clothes... I had bought a few new things in BAngkok, but still my old clothes were stinking up my bag (always embarassing during a customs check) so they had to be cleaned.

Anthony met me the next morning and we went out to Escape From New York, a pizza joint worthy of it's name. I inhaled my slice within seconds. I should have had a second now that I think of it because I won't be able to have another for a while. In Eugene, where I'm at now, there are pizza places (with suspect pizza) called "Pizza Research Institute" and crap like that. No thank you. I also saw about a million bagel places (all with the words "New York" in the names) but I can't bring myself to eat them. I have to wait until I get home to House of Bagels. I've waited eleven months, I can wait one more.

The thing that's killing me though is prices. I was cheap before but I've only gotten worse since travelling. At least while I was away, I could bargain for stuff, but when I handed over $19 for my part of dinner last night, I knew I couldn't argue and say NO, $6! I wanted to cry. Today I'm off to figure out photo stuff, and I'm sure those prices will turn me into a manic depressive.

Right on. Feel free to email me!! Internet is now free and I can reply more easily.

Posted by Claudia at 03:03 PM | Comments (0)

June 20, 2004

There And Back Again

That's right, the last leg of my trip is coming up. The day after tomorrow I will be heading back to the States. I'll be hanging out in Hippyville, Oregon for about a month before reporting back to duty at Atti for a few months, if all goes well. I've spent the last few days reading. I'm sure when I get back there will be many more demands on my time, so I'm getting it in now while I can. I've read two really interesting books, plus one that was just entertaining.

I had heard rave reviews about the first book, The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. "Oh, it's changed my life!" sort of comments. I had been avoiding it due to hype, but when I saw a copy in my guesthouse I figured why not. At first I was annoyed at how simple a story it was, but after a while, I realized that was the point. It's a fable about following your dreams and fulfilling your destiny, written from the point of view of a young sheppard who takes off to see the world. I liked it because it wasn't too condescending but still made some good points. It was in general feel good book.

The second book was downright disturbing. I remembered my sister had read a bunch of Margaret Atwood books for some class she took so I decided to give the one I had heard of, The Handmaid's Tale, a whirl. What a horrifying book. I couldn't stop reading it, but I was afraid of what I was going to learn on the next page. I don't know how to even describe it without giving anything away about it. The author is very cryptic and lets information out bit by bit, obviously to allow you to feel as helpless and clueless as the main character, whose name you never really know. I'll say this: imagine in the future a male dominated army of uber-zealous Christians came to power via a violent government overthrow and what would be the fate of a "shameful" (average) woman would be. Downright terrifying. I had chills reading it. I'll definately be reading more Atwood.

The final book, Girl With the Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier, was alright but paled in comparison to the other two. I read it so when I saw the movie, I would know what they changed. It was a quick read and I was done in a few hours.

After having done all these reading the last few days, I looked back at the list of books I've read over the last 11 months. There are close to fifty of them. I wonder if I would have been so lucky to have read fifty new books while I was at home. Probably not. I'd have read some of my favorites over (Anne Rice, Lord of the Rings, etc) and a couple new ones. Being away has forced me to read new authors and read books I might not normally have picked up (such as that shit book Shanghai Baby by Wei Hu that shouldn't have even been published it was so bad). I suppose that's just another bonus of being away and a way of trying new things! Cool beans by me.

Posted by Claudia at 05:06 AM | Comments (13)

June 18, 2004

More Pampering

Ahhhhhh, facials.....

Today I went to the spa for a second day of pampering. Yesterday I went for an aromatherapy oil massage, rather than the violent Thai massage. It was heaven. I liked it so much, I made an appointment for a facial for today and somehow it was even better. All of the chunks of the Gobi Desert that were lodged in my protesting pores are now gone. I feel much better.

In my state of high relaxation, I went to my fav silver shop here in Chiang Mai, a place called NOVA. I had eyed up a heavy silver bracelet that looks like tree twigs the last time I was here but Ant dragged me out of the store. This time he wasn't here to restrain me, and I bought it after they said they'd customize it for me. If I didn't like it, they'd switch it back. I also bought my sister the classy more grown up piece of jewelry I promised I'd find her when she was here.

On Monday I will head back to Bangkok for a day and then fly out to Oregon. I can't believe this trip is almost over- it's gone by so quickly.

Mom: Please check email and reply. I've sent you a list of clothes I'd like you to send to Ant's. Thanks.

Posted by Claudia at 03:59 AM | Comments (7)

June 16, 2004

Freaky Meetings

I caught the night train to Chiang Mai, as planned without a single hitch and no painful delays. Whew....

At Ayutthaya, a large group of French got on and practically took over the train, as did an Indian girl who had the bunk across from me. A Frenchmen made a fuss that I was in the wrong seat, in 24 rather than 23 (they're across from each other and I tried to explain that it really doesn't matter) but he persisted and I moved the 2 feet to my seat. I promptly put on my headphones to drone out the ruckus of 20 odd frogs.

The night passed without incident and when I woke up in the morning, the Frenchman had seen I was reading a famous french book (Papillon by Henri Carriere) and asked if I spoke French. I rudely said no, and went back to to my book because he had been a prick the night before.

As we were getting to closer to Chiang Mai, I noticed that the Indian girl had a LP Thailand and I asked if I could borrow it for a few minutes to copy down some info. We started talking briefly and wound up taking a sangtheuw to Tha Pae Gate, the center of town. I headed to GAP's House, but they were full. :( I then remembered the name of the place Madhu was staying at, which was right down the alleyway. The rooms were alright, so I checked in with the intention of trying GAP's again tomorrow. I bumped into Madhu again, and we headed out for some food.

After chatting a bit, I realized that I recognized her name. She mentioned she had stayed at Suk11 in Bangers, and she then said that she found it through Bootsnall, which is where I recognized her name from. Then when I told her I was Photochick, she told me she knew my blog. How random right?

Anyway, I bought some incense, a body loofah, and a book to entertain myself. Tonight I will raid the Night Market, and I have to cruise by the jewelry store for Vanessa's much delayed X-mas present. Retail therapy seems to be working out the crappy last few days... AHHHHHHHHH Now to find a spa to get relaxed in....

Posted by Claudia at 04:03 AM | Comments (2)

June 15, 2004

I Wanted To End It All

That's right. The last 2.5 days of my life here on the road were the ROCK BOTTOM of the whole time and also qualify as being possibly 2 of the worst days in my life.

Everything seemed relaxed on the morning of June 13, the day I was supposed to fly to Beijing, and connect to Bangkok. I emptied my pack of non-essentials, got a cheap lift to the airport, and sat back to relax at the "happening" airport in Ulan Bator. After waiting for the usual 1.5 hours until boarding time, we were informed that due to a bit of rain and gray skies, our flight would be delayed six hours. Freakin hell, it was only drizzling!!! I sat back and watched Euro 2004 soccer on the TV.

I think the sight of civilization and soccer put me in way too relaxed mood because when I got up to change the channel (some Mongolian show came on), I dropped my passport and tickets. I didn't notice until about 45 minutes later when I had moved to another seat.

Needless to say, I shat myself.

Imagine, I'm in the UB airport, and now I've lost my documents. No one speaks English and I don't speak Mongolian or Russian. I remembered that the woman at the exchange office spoke a bit so I went to ask her where to find security or the police. She invited me in to sit down, probably because it looked like I was on the brink of tears, and I was. When the "officer" came, she told him I lost my stuff and with that I broke down and wept like a baby. After being spit on, I just wanted to leave the freaking country of Mongolia, ya know??

They ushered me to some other office with video cameras and surveillance. I pointed on the screen where I had been sitting and they all began discussing. When asked how much money I was missing and I replied none, all interest was lost in the problem. The exchange woman then asked why it was a problem. I wanted to tear my eyes out with frustration.

At some point, another man, obviously reeking of vodka, kept trying to ask me why I was so upset. I explained and he kept saying "no problem" and trying to sit next to me on the couch. At one point he even trying to put his arm around me. With that I went over to the door and asked if I could call the embassy.

Another man found me the number and I was connected with an very sweet and polite man named David. David had the reassuring accent I wanted to hear- American. Never have I EVER been so happy to communicate with one of my countrymen. Anyway, David suggested I go back to the guesthouse, check back in, and call him when I got there. Before I left the airport, the nice currency exchange lady asked me to leave her the number of my guesthouse "just in case." She also arranged the price of the taxi because I was obviously too stressed out to deal with it.

I promptly called David, who was able to put things in motion for me to have an emergency passport in the morning, and would try to expedite another Chinese visa. As soon as I hung up, the airport called to say they had found my documents!!! I was overjoyed and the daughter of the guesthouse I was staying at (Nassan's) hugged me she was so happy for me. I immediately hopped back in a cab (same one ironically) and raced back to the airport, happy as could be- temporarily. As it turned out, a woman had found my passport and tickets on the floor but then returned home after hearing about the flight delay. She called Air China to inform them and they called my guesthouse. The woman was not then in the airport and I waited very anxiously for her to show up, both to thank her and to get them back.

As it turned out, the flight was further delayed, and I got more and more stressed out. The last of the passengers were being checked in and immigration was closing when a random man showed up with my documents. The lady had decided to catch another flight and had sent this random guy to bring them to me. I thanked him profusely and then RAN to get through check in, customs, immigration, all that.

Needless to say, I was highly worked up by the time I got on the plane. There was no hope of catching my connecting flight to Bangkok so I was going to be stuck in the Beijing for the night. Air China, those bastards, kept herding us on to buses and no one seemed to have any idea about how to proceed the next day. Finally, one ground staff said that it was best to come back at 7am when ticketing opened to get my ticket reassigned. I arrived at the hotel at 1:15ish, tired, starving, and high strung. I shoved my way through the line rudely and got a room key.

I caught the airport bus to the airport and was standing at the ticketing counter of Air China at 7:20AM. I was told that they would take yesterday's ticket and transfer it to today's flight and I nearly fell over- that meant ANOTHER 13 hours in the airport. I flipped out because I had been told to come at 7am. I could have relaxed, watched TV, eaten something, gone for a swim, WHATEVER, rather than sit in the Beijing airport for 13 hours. The Air China staff told me I was lucky they didn't change me for the ticketing change because they aren't responsible for anything.

I enquired why they couldn't transfer me to the earlier Thai Airways flight and they explained that my ticket was the wrong type to do this- didn't my agent explain this? I replied that I bought it directly from Air China and no, they didn't explain this. The man made a face and decided he'd had enough of me so he turned his back on me. I lost my temper, and told them they were dicks. Not my best moment, but I was still tired, hungry, and stressed. I love customer service.

Thirteen hours in any airport is shitty, but Beijing takes the cake. There are almost no chairs, no waiting areas, no decent places to eat, and literally nothing to do. It has no business center for email, and even a lack of phones. I spent eleven of those hours trying to find the balance between moving around (with my pack because they wouldn't check me in being it was too early) and falling asleep on any free chair I could find. Once, after my legs fell asleep, I got up for a few minutes and walked around. When I returned to the three rows of chairs, someone had moved into mine, fair enough, so I sat in a different one. The man next to me made some motion with his hand which I knew meant he was saving it, but I pretended not to understand and didn't move. I was past the point of manners.

Finally I checked in and the gate started to fill up. A Spanish man who had seen me on the UB flight saw me and struck up a conversation. I'm sure he wishes he didn't because after raging all day internally, I told the whole story in more detail than I'm sure was necessary. He was good natured about it and we chatted for a while before boarding.

I have never been so happy to see Bangkok. I arrived, was the first through immigration, got my bags quickly, and got a taxi. For anyone who has read a few of my posts, I hate taxi drivers, and as per usual, this one was a dick. I have been to Suk11 many times and I know how to get there by taxi or bus and this guy was driving in circles. In fact, he just happened to go by landmarks I know so I'm sure he's driving in circles. Finally, I began to tell him off, and surprisingly, 5 minutes later we were there. They he tried to overcharge me (I know what it should cost) and I gave him the fair price, and turned my back.

I walked in and was greeted by Anil of Suk 11 who knows me by sight now. I apologized for being a day later than my reservation but refrained from explaining the reason why. I like him, he doesn't need me to rant at him while he's half asleep.

Today I caught the bus to train station to buy a ticket to Chiang Mai, in the AC section, because I felt splashing out. It was a hassle-free transaction and I was glad for it. Using the buses instead of the evil taxis made me feel better, and I treated myself to a movie and some cheap sushi. I saw the new Harry Potter movie and liked it better than the first two because it's darker and creepier. Damn those kids got tall!!!

Anyway, in a few minutes I'll be off on the bus again to the train station to catch my luxury train north to Chiang Mai, where I will again splash out and stay at a place that costs $8 a night. It's so decadent, but screw it! I want to come home on a good note, ya know? I'll also get massaged and maybe go to a spa for some pampering.

Posted by Claudia at 06:43 AM | Comments (3)

June 10, 2004

Summing Up the Gobi

I have returned after spending 10 days out on the road here in Mongolia.

Overall, we would spend about 5-7 hours a day driving in our Russian made tank-like van. We would then stop at the various point of interest for a few hours and then move on to a ger to sleep for the night. A ger is the traditional home of the Mongolian people. Inside it has some furniture and almost always has the same layout.

On our first night in a ger we didn't know the correct etiquette and we fumbled around a bit. You are supposed to walk into the left and then sit in the spot reserved for guests in the left back, making sure you don't have your back to the family shrine or point your feet at it. Also, whistling is bad luck, as is writing in red pen, and never touch someone else's hat. You should always support your right elbow with your left hand when accepting food and try a little of everything offered to you. This was the hardest part, especially on the first two nights.

Our driver, Utsi, would roll up to these random gers and ask if we could stay with them for the night. We knew there was some sort of payment going on, but it couldn't have been much. We were usually offered goat/sheep's milk tea, and usually some kind of super potent goat's cheese- I'm talking cheese that is so harsh you grimace while eating it. There was often another gooey substance that our little expedition never identified, but it came from the boiling down of some animal's milk, often done late at night.

On our very first night though, we were made dinner which consisted of buuz, a steamed mutton dumpling. I'm a huge fan of steamed dumplings (or breakfast buns) but these were a bit gamey. The gamey flavor was explained by the decapitated goat's head sitting behind my stool and the racks of mutton around the ger. I forced down about three of these "tasty" bits before I thought they might come back up. That said, the first ger was really the most "local" or authentic. We slept with the family and played with the obviously bored ten year old son.

We proceeded to some of the sights in the area. There is a frozen river in the middle of the Gobi which you can walk on because the ice is 3+ feet thick. It was a weird sensation to be in the middle of one of the driest climates in the world, and to be walking on ice so cold and thick, it's blue in places. Another stop was at some massive sand dunes. The largest one is said to be 880 meters high and 150 kms long. I trudged up three quarters of the way up the dune before giving up. When I climbed (actually skiied) back down, I saw just how close I was to the top and I nearly cried from the stupidity of my decision. I was SOOO close.

Our Friday night fun was watching the goats fight. They jump up, and them ram the shit out of each other with their horns. The people we were staying with had a very small pen they were keeping the smaller animals in, and the herd was getting very worked up. Several of the goats tried to stir up trouble by whacking random other animals in the ass or side but then the bid daddy ram came over and laid down the law. The troublemakers relaxed for a bit before starting up a ruckus again. There was one naughty goat we called Rockabilly who kept stirring things up. He had a very snazzy haircut and goatee, with a bit of tannish hair mixed in with the brown, giving him a punk appearance. He was our fav.

This was our general mode of entertainment until night seven, when our driver, Utsi, decided to go on a vodka bender. He brought out a bottle of vodka that smelled like hairspray. Bryce of New Zealand (at a whopping 33), being the oldest got the first "shot" which in reality is more like a triple. Then came my turn, followed by our two Brits, Chris and Katie, and finally Dutch Haarem. We thought the bottle was done, but another appeared, and then another. Utsi was highly drunk at this point, started getting a bit too friendly, and I had no idea what he was saying. When he got too loud we made like we were going to sleep and Utsi went out the truck, turned it on, and said he was driving to Ulan Bator. Bryce stepped in and yelled at him to "go the fuck to sleep" (really funny to hear when you've had the equivalent of 6-7 shots of hairspray) and took his keys. As an added measure, we locked the ger shut from the inside.

Since Utsi was locked outside, he couldn't help the guys build the much needed fire that burns in the center of the ger. There was plenty of wood for fuel but no paper or anything we could use for kindling. I realized I had finished the second of the Earth's Children series, The Valley of Horses, and offered it as a sacrifice to the common good. It burned well, and we were kept warm for the night.

The following morning, I decided to go for a dip in the river nearby the ger camp. WHen I felt how cold it was, I quickly decided instead on a sponge bath to clean off the bits of the Gobi Desert that had accumulated on my skin. It was like a scene out of movie. I had to scramble down a massive wall of rock, only to come out to a lawn of soft green grass, next to a gurgling river. I put on my sarong underneath a tree and relaxed while happily washing myself to semi-cleanness. It was heaven. That is until I had to go back UP the rock wall and got half of what I washed off, back on me. Either way, it was a refreshing experience.

The last days were relaxed but spent mostly on the road back to UB. Utsi's driving made me impatient. Whenever there was a bit of flat dirt track (there are no real roads), he'd floor it and terrify the group by overtaking the one other vehicle around. Then, when we reached tarmac, he never left third gear. I wanted to throw him out of the driver's seat and gun it. I may sound like I'm giving Utsi a hard time. He was a good guy and did a great job- he got me back here in one piece.

Speaking of being back... on my last post about Ulan Bator, I mentioned some negative things about the city. When I met up with Mike and his friendly wife (whose name I can't begin to spell) he said that much of what I wrote was untrue. So coming from someone who knows this place, I'm full of shit. :) I can't say I KNOW a city just because I've been here a few days, fair enough.

I do know this... I am glad to leave. It's not the friendliest of places and as I walked to this internet shop to write this, a man spat water on me. If that's not a hostile and unfriendly act towards a random stranger, I don't know what is. I might have expected it from a broke and down on his luck drunk, but this guy was obviously affluent and had all his wits about him.

I've enjoyed the company I've had here in Mongolia, from the nomads to Mike who I haven't see since Stevens days to our group to the Gobi to a Polish guy I met in Laos who I bumped into in a stairwell, but I am glad to move on and start the journey back to the States. I'm highly ready.

Posted by Claudia at 02:58 AM | Comments (4)

Back in Civilization

I am back with much to report, but I have to clear out the 25 emails in my inbox first. Stay tuned...

Posted by Claudia at 01:50 AM | Comments (2)