Viva el Final!

It doesn’t take a genius to recognize that all things must come to an end, for one reason or another. Even for two ambitious world travelers, still with much left to discover, this reality of life has gradually settled in. The grubby soles of our shoes have worn thin, budgeted finances slowly been depleted, and our steadfast endurance of long bus rides / email communication / digging through a backpack / etc. has been substantially diminished. It has truly been a remarkable and life-changing journey. But even so, the inevitable has finally come.

Now that we have been back in the U.S. for well over a month, this update may come as a bit of a surprise. To calm all immediate suspicions, no we are not announcing plans for another adventure around the world! At least not yet. Truth is, our backpacks still lie within easy reach, and our interest in travel and learning about the world is as strong as it has ever been. But we do not find ourselves in the same place as when we started. Throughout the last fourteen months, the dreams and motivations that first set this journey in motion have been transformed and are now taking us in new directions.

One of the things we have enjoyed most since our return have been opportunities to reconnect with family and friends. After the craziness of the Christmas holiday wore off, the two of us spent a week in Harrisonburg visiting college friends and professors. Then the following week, Eric took a trip to Alabama and volunteered with hurricane Katrina relief efforts in the Gulf. He is now back in Lancaster, starting to consider job possibilities, and looking forward to taking a seminary course at EMU Lancaster this spring. Dave has recently taken a job with Franconia Mennonite Conference in Communications and Leadership Cultivation and is excited as he begins this new position. He plans to base himself out of Harleysville until the fall when he will possibly begin graduate school somewhere.

Returning home can often be the most challenging aspect of any long-term travel experience. While there have been moments of discomfort and frustration in the past weeks, as a whole the transition into our home communities has gone relatively smoothly. And we’ll see… perhaps the jury is still out on this issue. But what has already become clear to both of us is the importance of being intentional and engaging ourselves in the things we care about. Just like the broader world, our home communities are full of opportunities to learn and become involved. Should we really have to settle for something that doesn’t bring fulfillment?

As we move on to new ventures, this marks the final Viva el Viaje update you will receive. If you have followed us from the beginning, chances are you received close to 60 of these things on a semi-consistent basis. Hopefully they have provided an opportunity to laugh, think, learn, and if nothing else, be distracted for a few minutes of your day. In the coming months, we plan to do some small presentations, and will continue to make periodic postings and update the website with additional information. It has sort of evolved as the interactive “scrapbook” of our experience, and we plan to keep it available as an online reference for ourselves and others who may be interested.

From the beginning, we have attempted (as much as possible) to share this experience with you, our friends and family. In each of our journeys through life, there is much we can learn from others walking alongside us, no matter what the context. All of you receiving this email have been involved in some way in shaping this experience with us, whether through faithful prayer, encouragement, hosting us in your homes, offering insightful comments, or simply being interested in what we are doing. We offer you our deepest gratitude. This trip has been just as much about you as it has been about us.

There are some endings that are final, and others that don’t really feel like endings at all. As we step out in faith and continue to build upon the experiences of the past year, this particular ending feels more like a beginning. There are always new opportunities emerging and glimmers of hope and truth waiting to be discovered. May God continue to guide us all as we live the journey together.

Being, Back

A few months back, I was looking ahead to this time of coming home with apprehension, not quite sure what to expect, but feeling that it would be difficult. I must say now that my experience since flying into Los Angeles on December 2nd has gone fairly well thus far. I?ve spent a lot of my time relaxing, catching up with friends and family, and trying to be intentional about making a slow transition back into life in the United States while keeping a positive attitude.

Southern California

My flight from Bangkok to LA was fairly uneventful, except for a brief delay during the layover in Taipei, Taiwan. Before I knew it, I was back on American soil in the Los Angeles airport, tired from nearly two days without sleep, yet full of that honeymoon type of adrenaline for the final ?new country? of the trip. On the customs declarations form that you fill out before entering the US, there is a space to list the countries you have visited during your trip. I decided to fill the space by writing the last five or six, followed by a ???. The man at the counter questioned me about where I had gone and how long I had been away and upon hearing my answers, asked with amazed bewilderment, ?Is that all you brought back?? I replied that I liked to travel light. I guess most Americans bring more stuff than I do.

I spent my first week in the states in Pasadena, CA, spending my days getting over a 9 hour time difference, checking out Fuller Theological Seminary, and hanging out with my EMU friends Joel & Emiley Shenk and Alethia Bailey (traveled with us in Israel/Palestine, March 2005). We also went down to the Santa Monica Beach one evening at sunset and were blessed with an amazing array of colors falling into the Pacific Ocean. Another evening Alethia and I went to an art show in Venice which included a few of my uncle?s paintings. A different afternoon took a group of us hiking to the nearby San Gabriel Mountains rising from the back side of Pasadena.

I took my opportunity in the town of Pasadena to visit Fuller Theological Seminary, a place where a handful of good friends of mine who share similar interests with me are either currently studying or considering beginning masters? work in the future. I managed to find a time to meet with a variety of professors and academic advisors and a lot of these meetings helped me to better articulate what I am looking for in a graduate program. At this point in time, I can say that my interests lie in some combination of cross-cultural learning & education, peace and conflict studies, the American church?s role in international conflicts that have a religious component, and the Middle East region in general. I feel like my Masters degree will be a conglomeration of a lot of subjects that drive me to action and that as I study my specific focus will become clearer. I would like to get started next fall, but depending what happens this year, plans are always open to change?

Southern California was a perfect first stop in the US after a global journey. Landing on the ?left coast? of the country provided a lot of people who were open to talking about international issues and a general chilled out atmosphere that made me feel right at home. Having a few close friends around who understood my experience and a lot of others who were friendly but not overwhelmingly so seemed like the right ratio of familiar people for someone trying to ease into the culture shock of their own country.

The Plan of Surprise

My parents were under the impression for weeks that Alethia and I were driving across the United States and arriving home in Pennsylvania on Monday, December 19. This was the original plan, but transformed about a week before I flew to LA into a cheaper option of a $100 flight from LA to DC. I decided not to tell my parents of the change, but instead go to Virginia for the week and visit friends in the Harrisonburg area and then arrive home in PA on Friday to catch my parents not when they were expecting me, but rather when my sister Kristina was expected to come home from college for Christmas break.

The Capitol

We landed in Washington DC on Sunday evening and were picked up by Alethia?s Mom who has recently moved to Fairfax, VA. Alethia and I met two other friends from EMU, Rachel Miller (we visited her in Peru/Bolivia, December 2005) and Conrad Erb during the day on Monday and we had a nice lunch at an Indian restaurant in the city. We spent the rest of the day walking around the capitol building, the botanical gardens, and hanging out in a coffee shop.

Some of my initial perceptions of our nation?s capitol were ones of solitary power and unspoken sadness. Maybe it was the cold, grey skies that had been a foreign experience to me during the last few months, or maybe it was the way people seemed to be living their individual, forward-focused lives? something about it made it feel like the monuments were to an empire that could use a little hope. If you?ve read Eric?s recent journal about American military involvement around the world, you may empathize with me when I say that as I returned to the most militarily powerful place on earth, it felt like a sad homecoming.

Monday night we drove out to the I81/I66 split and met my sisters, Maria & Kristina, driven by Maria?s fianc?, Jesse, who managed to leap out of the car and beat my sisters to the first hug. We then started to drive south on the familiar I81 to Harrisonburg, Virginia.

Virginia

I?ve basically lived in Virginia for the majority of the last four years of my life that I was in the US, so returning once again felt like home. Many of my friends that graduated with me a few years ago are still in the area as well as others younger than me. I had a wonderful week popping into my professors? offices and surprising them as well as some amazing conversations with old friends over a cup of hot tea or coffee. It was good to see Lin & Janet Stutzman (Sailing Acts, April 2005) again, who are gearing up once again to lead a Middle East cross-cultural semester this spring.

Virginia is a quiet place in relation to many that I have traveled through during the last few months. It was a nice space to just spread out, know the area around me, and be able to fit right into after a long time away. The five days there went fast, but helped to stretch out my transition in coming back to Pennsylvania.

My sisters and I managed to keep the secret of my presence in the area from my parents to the best of our ability. It really seemed like a possibility that someone might pass on the word to them when they found out that I was in the ?burg. From what I know now, they suspected, but didn?t know for sure what was going on.

Pennsylvania

We borrowed a car that needed to be driven to PA, loaded up with Kristina, Alethia, Kurt Rosenberger (Eastern Europe Bike Trip, May-July 2005) and I and drove the remaining four hours to southeastern PA. We stopped about a quarter mile up the street from my house and took everything from the trunk and piled it into the back seat. Since Alethia and I were expected to be arriving home a few days later, we piled in the trunk and Kurt and Kristina sat up front.

We pulled into our driveway and Kurt and Kristina went inside to say hi to our parents while Alethia and I waited outside. They asked for some help to come and unload the bags from the car and my dad came outside first to bring some things in. When Kristina had come into the house without me, my parents gave up the hope that I might have also been with her, so when my Dad opened the trunk and saw me there, he screamed and yelled my name, ?DAVID!? I was ready with the camera and got it all on video. It?s on the site, and definitely worth checking out. Sorry Dad that I keep putting a plug in for this. Mom came out a few minutes later, looking a little pale and like she didn?t believe that I was back.

Since last Friday, I have been around the area, unpacking all the stuff I had sent home at various parts of the year, rediscovering how much stuff I still own, and trying to get my life organized enough to start from here.

Life from Now?

It has been a good transition so far and I am excited to be back. In many ways, coming home just feels like another stop on the larger journey and that I will never be done ?traveling? as many of the ideas behind the vision of this last year continue with me as I start whatever is next in my life. It would be very easy to be negative about the things that frustrate me about this country, but it seems obvious that this will do no good for the world. My hope now lies in implementing what this trip has shown me into action and devoting my life to working towards a better understanding of these issues in this country. Coming back has also shown me how much I have to learn about what is going on here, and the very least I can do is be aware of these changes and discover the needs wherever I might be in order to fill open niches.

I have been struggling to write this journal entry for the last few weeks. Each time I start, and then can?t quite finish. I suspect that I have been just a bit burned out on written digital communication, and when the alterative is a live conversation with a good old friend, it?s difficult to be inspired to express myself on a computer screen. I?ll probably be either in Pennsylvania or Virginia during the next several months, so if you?re in one of those places, hopefully we can connect sometime. I don?t own a car anymore, and really don?t want to for as long as I can possibly manage without one. The next few months will be an interesting time for me to begin to figure out what this experience has meant for my life both now and farther down the road.

Home, Hope, and the Holidays

Suddenly, the end has arrived. Even with the past two weeks to spend in reflection (and an entire year of gradual anticipation!), this day has still somehow managed to catch me by surprise. In only a few hours, I will be heading for the Bangkok airport to begin the long journey home. While at times words have come easily on this journey, I now find myself with not a whole lot to say.

Maybe I'll begin with a few things that I'm looking forward to. The first, without a doubt, is the experience of flying. Many of my friends think I'm crazy, but I get pathetically excited about everything having to do with air travel. Starting with the often incomprehendable task of finding the best deal on tickets, to the moment of collecting my bags and leaving the airport... it's all a thrilling and fascinating experience. And the longer the flight the better. Extra hours only mean more time to look out the window, watch the cool little map of the flight's current location, eat a few more of the carefully packaged airline meals, and a chance to accumulate those precious extra frequent flier miles. I know this is all a bit strange. Sometimes it has led me to believe that I should have studied to become a pilot. Or at the very least done a few stints as a baggage handler down in Philly. Yeah, we'll have to see about that.

Perhaps part of this fascination with air travel is the way that it brings the world together. Watching the arrival/departure board at a major international airport, it doesn't take long to arrive at the conclusion that the world really is a small place. In less than a day's time, one can be across the globe, suddenly transported to a completely different context. On the plane in one country/culture/climate; off the plane in a completely different one. In a way, airports represent a kind of "third-culture", a unique environment where people from all corners of the globe come together and rub shoulders with each other. I like those kinds of places.

Enough about airplanes and airports. Another thing that gives me great joy is looking ahead to spending time with family and friends. Fourteen months is a long time to be away from the people that you care about. And although I have been blessed to have many opportunities to communicate with these people via email during my time away, I'm ready to be finished with that for awhile. Letters and emails are great, but they simply don't compare to the beauty of spending time being physically present with another person or group of people. In the past year, I have continually been amazed by the growth and interest that people have expressed for this website. Yet I have also learned quickly of its limitations. Without a doubt, it doesn't come close to the importance and necessity of personal, face-to-face conversation and dialogue.

Bangkok, in my mind, is the epitome of budget backpacker travel. The flashing neon signs, the ridiculous "just to prove I was there" little souvenirs, and the dirt-cheap guesthouses full of spaced out travelers... there is a shallowness here that is repulsive. Yet it is a neccesary evil for anyone heading into or out of Southeast Asia. So that's why I'm here. As I wondered the infamous Khao San strip last night, my thoughts drifted to the subject of community. Yes, it may be a cliche word in many respects, but at this moment in time I find it profoundly exciting. I guess sometimes it just takes going away to see these things.

Finally, I'm excited to get involved in things that I believe are important. Being a part of an honest and open-minded community, like I mentioned earlier, is certainly one of those things. But so is education, the work of the church, cross-cultural understanding, inter-faith dialogue, and so many other things. There are times to withdrawl and be contemplative (as I have done in the past two weeks), but there is also a time to engage and get involved. For many months during this trip, the prospect of "engaging" with my home community and sharing my experiences brought more fear than it did excitement. But somehow in recent weeks I have turned that corner, and begun to find hope and potential fulfillment in those areas. There is no life without hope, and what better time to discover this concept than during the holidays.

Although this is my final entry from abroad, I hope to write a few more once I've settled in back home. And Dave and I are also plannaing a few changes to the site, as well as other ways to expand the vision of Viva el Viaje. But that will all come in time... right now, it's time to enjoy the Christmas season. I will look forward to seeing many of you soon, and talking more in person. Your support, encouragement, and prayers have meant much more than I'm sure you realize. Thank you.

As I post this, I'm off to the airport. Somehow the cheapest ticket I found was with Malaysia Airlines, an excellent company that also provided me an overnight stay at a hotel in Kuala Lumpur this evening. Then tomorrow morning the 23-hour flight flight to New York begins. Although a bit of a disappointment, I found out after buying the tickets that we would have a refuel stop in Stockhold, Sweden, meaning that we will not be flying to North America over the Pacific. So much for the "round-the-world" trip!! Oh well, it was close... :-)

Earth to America: What the World is Saying... Will we Listen?

It was business as usual on Friday morning as I crossed the Mekong River from Thailand into northern Laos. This particular border crossing, although merely connecting two rural fishing villages, receives quite a substantial amount of traffic, due to the many backpackers (like myself) planning to take the 2-day riverboat trip to Luang Prabang. With my battered passport in hand, I stepped casually up to the immigration desk. Laos marks country #43, my final destination in this fourteen month journey around the world. It was somewhat of a personal milestone for me, but of course the immigration officer couldn't have cared less. He was too distracted by the glossy emblem on the front of my passport. "America," he muttered, shaking his head with disgust, "America."

In our previous writing for this site, Dave and I have occassionally commented on our experiences sa traveling Americans. Situations like I described above have taken place on a regular basis, in countries all over the world. And not just at immigration desks, either. In restaurants and hostels, on trains and in overflowing chicken buses, with local peasants and photo-clicking travelers... the reaction, unfortunately, is nearly always the same. It has gotten to the point that I now am very hesitant to reveal my identity, unless specifically asked. It's not that a fear the reaction, as much as I am tired of the predictable direction the conversation will turn, and the questions that everyone is only too eager to ask.

"Is it true that most Americans don't know the capital of Canada?" I have been asked on several ocassions. "So... what do you think about Bush?" is another common starter line. Or from the backpacker crowd, "Why don't more Americans like to travel?" These questions, while seemingly innocent and part of casual conversation, are often asked under one particular premise. People WANT their perceptions of America to be descredited. They WANT Americans to convince them that we aren't as ignorant and arrogant as the rest of the world thinks we are. People the world over are pleading, "Please... please, say it ain't so!"

While in Chiang Mai last week, Dave and I browsed through several used bookstores around town. With a long boat trip coming up, and two weeks of downtime before my flight back, I decided that this might be a good opportunity to do some reading. One of the first books to catch my attention was Why Do People Hate America? by Ziauddin Sardar and Merryl Wyn Davies. Although I didn't know it at the time, the book is currently an international bestseller, and would turn out to concisely summarize and add factual merit to many of the observations that I have been making during the last year. Pulling it out of my bag partway down the Mekong, Patrick (the burly Australian sitting next to me) remarked in typical half-question / half-statement style, "I hope you already know the answers..."

Maybe the first place to explore some of those answers is right here, among the rolling hills of Laos. As I sit on the balcony of my guesthouse, the street below is a maze of energetic children, jumping rope and cheering joyfully for each new contestant. In a yard across the street, roosters and chickens (the same ones that woke me up at 6am this morning!) peck at the earth like it's all that matters. And next door, two young musicians work their fingers over beat-up guitars, their melodies spilling through the windows and lingering with the spreading shadows of late afternoon. It is an atmosphere of undisturbed peace and tranquility. Not bad for a country that despite its tiny size, bears the aweful distinction of being the world's most heavily bombed country. Between 1964 and 1973, the United States of America dropped two million tons of bombs across the country of Laos. This unexploded ordinanace (UXO) continues to kill and injure hundreds of people each year, long after the war is officially over and forgotten by the world. Not to mention that it continues to render their precious farmland utterly useless. No matter how remote the village, you can believe that every civilian knows exactly where these "weapons of mass destruction" came from.

While Laos may have received an unjust portion of the U.S. military's wrath, it is certainly not the only country on the list. In fact, I wsa disturbed to find that nearly every country that Dave and I have visited on this trip (and many that we haven't!) were at some point in the last 120 years an object of U.S. military intervention. While I thought of publishing the entire list on the site, you can find Zoltan Grossman's comprehensive list of U.S. military interventions during the last century here. It gives a simple and straightforward explanation for America's reputation across the globe. As a sidenote, imagine for just a moment what the U.S. response might be if a foreign government was to be found "intervening" within our borders... even just once! It would not be pretty.

But this issue is not just about the misuse of military power. Citizens of developing countries around the world are suffering because of U.S. economic policies as well. Through controlling global financial institutions, such as the World Bank and World Trade Organization (WTO), world markets are marginalized to favor the U.S. and American corporations. Americans get richer and poor countries of the world get poorer. It is no wonder that many countries express hesitation at jumping into the "free market economy" that is championed so heavily by the United States. They know that before long, their private and national companies will no longer be able to compete with the unlimited financial resources of corporate America.

This manipulation wouldn't be quite so disturbing if the U.S. was more generous in our foreign aid distributions. But as Jimmy Carter once pointed out, "We are the stingiest nation of all." As a percentage of our national wealth (GDP), the U.S. ranks twenty-second out of the 22 most developed nations in foreign aid contributions. Denmark and the other Scandinavian countries are consistently at the top of this list. Come to think of it, when was the last time I heard a negative remark about the Danish government?

In an attempt to get a well-rounded perspective on global events, I ocassionally log on to Al-Jazeera's English news website. Several days ago, they were featuring a fascinating interview with David Dionisi, a former U.S. Army intelligence officer (full story here). He is the author of a recent book entitled American Hiroshima, in which he argues that even in the spectrum of global politics, "kindness begets kindness." Instead of writing off the Taliban and Osama bin Laden as evil crazies that just want to destroy the world, let's get to the root causes of this desperation and hostility. In his interview, he asks the world to "imagine if Bush had said after 9/11: 'People are capitalizing on our mistakes in the Middle East. So, let's ensure that there is no hunger, lack of clean water, lack of education, etc. in the Muslim world.'" Had that been the case, we certainly would have a lot more friends than enemies. But we all know that this potential gesture of goodwill and earnest soul-searching was very far from the actual U.S. response.

It is true, we can't live our lives dwelling on the mistakes of the past. In many respects, the damage has been done, and we will now live with the consequences. But are we at least learning from the past? Watching the news of this last week, it seems as though very little has changed. At the United Nations climate conference in Montreal, the administration in Washington continues in its refusal to sign the Kyoto Protocol, which has already been approved by 40 of the world's other industrial nations (full story here). Despite strong scientific evidence of the drastic effects of global warming, the United States rejects the proposal, saying it would be "bad for business." What message does this send to the rest of the world? Clearly, all that matters to America is money, even if it means that portions of the world (including low-lying areas of the U.S.) will go completely under water in the next several hundred years.

Or let's examine the recent allegations that the U.S. is secretely using European airfields to transport CIA detainees (full story here). This has created an enormous uproar in Europe, and deservedly so. By interrogating these suspects in international locations, the CIA is free from the restrictions of the U.S. Justice System (in other words, right to a lawyer, illegality of torture, etc.). The U.S. defends its actions, saying that these are "special cases" involved specifically in terrorism-related activities. The message again to the world? Human rights apparently only apply when it's convenient, and the U.S. will take its orders from nobody (even on issues related to the sovereignity of other nations). Not surprisingly, when I last checked their website a few hours ago, CNN was barely even covering this story.

Finally, let's briefly skip over to Kazakhstan. On Sunday, this central Asian nation held presidential elections, in which the corrupt and heavy-handed Nursualtan Nazarbayer was reinstated into power (full story here). The country of Kazakhstan has never held an election that has been judged democratic and fair by Western observers. Yet the U.S. doesn't say a thing. Clearly, this remote country with little economic opportunity is outside the realm of U.S. interest. The message is a complaint that I've heard over and over... double standards.

Four years ago, I watched the events of September 11 unfold with a crowd of fellow students in the Oakwood dorm at EMU. Just like everywhere else, the "why" question was at the heart of our thoughts and conversation in the days that followed. Finally, on September 20, our president provided a direct answer. "They hate our freedoms - our freedom of religion, our freedom of speech, our freedom to vote and assemble and disagree with each other," he told a joint session of Congress. In the most simplistic of terms, George W. Bush described the entire problem as nothing but jealousy, pure and simple. Since we do everything right, they hate what they don't have. That being the case, there's nothing we could/should have done differently. They're just evil... end of discussion.

The world is not a simple place, nor is it easily read through a black and white lens. Likewise, the issue of why so much of the world despises America is stubbornly complex. As I discussed earlier, our constant use of military intervention and economic manipulation throughout the rest of the world has bred bitter resentment. As has our government's arrogant way of relating with the world ("it's our way or none at all") and the American public's seeming ignorance to it all. And I haven't even mentioned the War in Iraq, the effects of cultural imperialism and so-called "McDonaldization," or the proliferation of Hollywood entertainment and American television (and the values they promote) across the world. There is reason to hate America. And interestingly enough, not one person I have ever talked to has suggested that it was because of our freedoms. Because most of the world would be quick to point out (and I tend to agree) that we aren't as free as we think we are, anyway.

In recent months, I have received several emails from friends asking me if this trip has made me anti-American. This is a question that I find difficult to answer. I still remain an American citizen, appreciate much about my home country, and am eagerly looking forward to my return in two weeks. Yet my perspective has indeed changed in the last year. I have seen first-hand the devastating effects of American policy on people scattered across the globe, and the anger and distrust that results. My blissful ignorance has been shattered, and I can no longer passively accept all that my government says and does (in my name) throughout the world. Does my choosing to speak out against the injustices I have witnessed make me anti-American? I certainly hope not.

Years ago, the British historian Norman Daniel coined the term "knowledgable ignorance." It can be described as "knowing people, ideas, civilizations, religions, histories as something they are not, and could not possibly be, and maintaining these ideas even when the means exist to know differently." In the United States, we are blessed with some of the world's best communication technology, giving us easy access to a nearly infinite amount of information from anywhere on the planet. Yet we still refer to the rest of the world in terms of deeply-ingrained cultural stereotypes. Or send our kids through educational systems that promote a triumphant and egocentric American view of history, while neglecting the perspectives of the "losers" around the world who have suffered because of it (starting with the Native Americans). Or the fact that most of us chose to receive our news through CNN or the other broadcast networks, all of which are owned by a handful of U.S. companies, each with deeply vested political interests. Case in point: Surf over to CNN and then BBC, and notice the difference in headlines. These are all examples of "knowledgable ignorance."

So what's my point with all of this? This journal entry probably reads more like a ranting and raving session than anything else. But if you've stuck with me thus far, thank you. Either you've somehow resisted the temptation to stereotype me as a "typical world traveler who thinks he knows it all... DELETE; or you are my parents. In either case, congratulations. :) In all sincerity, my intentions in writing this lengthy entry are not to offend anyone or to advocate one particular political persuasion over another. More importantly, I do not claim (nor ever will) that traveling the world has somehow provided me with an indisputable list of answers to the world's many problems. If anything, I humbly arrive at the conclusion to this particular journey with more questions than I started with. All I can truely offer is my own meandering experience. And if there's some bit of truth of word or wisdom to be gleaned from it, that's great. In the meantime, I'll just keep moving on.

"Since America is both the object and the source of global hatred, it must carry the responsibility of moving us all beyond it," writes Sardar and Davies. On a similar thread, I would add that for those of us that follow the teachings of Jesus Christ, the calling couldn't be any clearer. It is difficult enough to bear witness to the injustices that are being carried out by our very own elected government. Yet even more troubling still is to hear of them being done under the banner of Christian faith. I sometimes wonder if the Christian church has lost its voice in confronting such hypocracy, or if these actions are indeed an accurate reflection of theological belief within the broader church in America. Under either scenerio, it seems that we have drifted somewhat from the persona of Christ that is portrayed in the gospels. The Jesus I know and serve lived a simple life of peace, standing up for the oppressed and rejected, and calling all to repentence. If Jesus were alive today, I wonder what he might have to say...

At the close of the book Why Do People Hate America? the authors suggest that the process of transcending global hatred begins with a willingness to engage in dialogue and self-reflection. They make the statement that "if America has become a country that cannot debate, engage, or negotiate with itself, cannot wrestle with different meanings among people who are all Americans, then what hope is there that it can extend a listening ear or open mind to the rest of the world?" Somehow, we must stand against this perception that it is "unpatriotic" or "cowardly" to question ourselves or reflect on past mistakes. The process of self-reflection, on an even more personal level, is about learning to see ourselves as we appear in the eyes of others. Hopefully this journal has been a step in that direction.

Here in Laos, the day has faded and I have spent way too much time sitting on this balcony writing. Just a few blocks away, the night bazaar is in full swing, and the town residents are out enjoying the cool, refreshing air. I think I'll join them. In a few days, I will make my way south to the capital city, Vientienne, and then back to Bangkok for my flight on the 16th. This is the beginning of the end for me, and all things said... I'm very excited to be returning home.

--------------------
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

-Prayer of St. Francis

--------------------
Again, if you have the time (and even if you don't), take the time to pick up Why Do People Hate America? It is an insightful and thought-provoking read. You can get it used on Amazon.com (current price = $4 USD), or I'd be glad to let you borrow my copy when I return.

Other sources used here include:
Al-Jazeera
British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC)
CNN
Lonely Planet: Southeast Asia
Sojourners: Christians for Peace and Justice

To Cambodia and Beyond

As I look ahead to flying to Los Angeles on Friday, it's hard to keep my mind focused on being here in Thailand. It's become a struggle to live as the inevitable Thailand tourist/traveler combo, eager and brimming with excitement to tackle each day's sights and Lonely Planet checklists. In many ways, the tourist culture of this country makes me cringe. I'm ready for something new, and this time I think the newness will be in going back to where this trip started.

My last few weeks have taken me from Bangkok to Cambodia and now finally up to Chiang Mai in northern Thailand. Eric and I have spent this week hanging out and talking about the last few months and what lies ahead of us as we both return back to the United States within the next few weeks. But before I get into that, I'll do my best to fill you in on what has happened since Nepal and brought us to this point.

As my flight landed in Bangkok from Calcutta, I felt like I stepped back into the modern world. I was taken back for a bit by the efficient transportation systems, the cleanliness and the order and pace in which people were living their lives. After a few days of getting somewhat oriented with the city, I caught a bus out to the Cambodian border, heading towards a final week of experiences as a traveler before I would come back to Thailand to meet Eric and focus more on coming home.

My first destination in Cambodia was the capitol city of Phnom Penh, which I decided to reach through Siem Reap, stopping for the night and then finishing the trip the following morning. Getting to Siem Reap was quite an adventure, pushing through a shady tourist ticket that passed us off from one to another, always to a vehicle of less quality than the previous one. The final 8 hour leg of the journey was spent in the back of a pickup truck filled with 20 western tourists, including a set of disgruntled German doctors irritated about the rip-off tickets. After a long trip of swerving to avoid meter-deep potholes, we pulled into the town around 11pm, coated in a thick layer of brown road dust.

The next day's bus journey was much more pleasant. I arrived in Phnom Penh and connected with my friend and former EMU biology professor, Doug Graber-Neufeld, who is working with MCC. I was brought to the MCC guesthouse, introduced the rest of the staff and enjoyed some time to relax and recover from the long trip south.

The next few days in Phnom Penh were spent hanging out with MCC and Doug's family during the Water Festival holiday (Bon Om Tuk) and visiting the Tuol Sleng museum and the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek, both reminders of the tragedy of the Cambodian genocide.

The Water Festival is one of the largest in the Cambodian culture, celebrating the reversal of the Tonle Sap river with the finality of the monsoon rains. One of the festivities for this holiday is a large scale race with over 390 long, skinny and furiously rowed boats down the river while the banks are backed with spectators. One evening Doug, Cristina and I went down to the river to observe the final trials at dusk as the celebration turned into a fireworks show with authentic floating 'parade floats' coming up the river. The combination of all of this in a town fair-like atmosphere was quite impressive.

The genocide in Cambodia is one that is not generally known to the rest of the world. During the late 70's, the Khmer Rouge and its leader Pol Pot were responsible for a total of somewhere between 1-2 million deaths, killing up to a quarter of the country's population. The deaths were often caused by extensively brutal torture or crude objects such as shovels and blunt bamboo sticks carefully aimed at a person's neck. These murders were intended to be the means of purifying the communist ideals within the country's population. This process especially targeted those who were the greatest threat to the sustaining the oppressive system, those who were educated and had culturally diverse background.

Doug and I visited the Tuol Sleng Museum in Phnom Penh one day, which was a high school before the takeover of the city. Under Pol Pot, it became known as the S-21 prison where 'spies' were taken and tortured into giving 'confessions.' If this process didn't kill the prisoners, they were taken to the Killing Fields at Choeung Ek, a short pickup truck's ride away, where a mass grave with a total of 8985 bodies has been discovered. Only a few prisoners from S-21 survived the horrific process.

When I emailed Doug about coming to Cambodia a few months ago, he invited me to run a half marathon with him at Angkor Wat, which conveniently happened to be during the very time that fit my schedule to visit. And my response to his invitation was my usual, "Why not?... Sounds like fun." So after Phnom Penh, Doug's family, myself, and the Groff family made our way back to Siem Reap to visit the Temples of Angkor and run the big race.

The Temples of Angkor are Cambodia's largest tourist attraction. I won't go into a lot of the details here about their history, as you can find some of it in Eric's previous blog on Southeast Asia. I spent one day on a bicycle exploring the temple complex, impressed by the breadth of the place and the huge trees which seemed to be taking over some of the temples. This day also gave me a good opportunity to scope out the race course and get my bearings for what was ahead of me.

It's difficult to really train for something like this while you are traveling and not in a routine. I did my best in Kathmandu and Bangkok to get out and run, but dodging unpredictable traffic pattens and breathing city smog made an afternoon run not as attractive of an activity as it would be on a back country road in Virginia. But I did a little preparation, not nearly as much as I had originally planned to, but yet enough to give it a try when the time came.

The race was 21k of beautiful roads creating a loop around the Temples of Angkor, starting and finishing right at the entrance to Angkor Wat, the most famous and massive temple of the complex. A lot of the runners were ex-pats either working for Cambodian NGOs or tourists passing through, but there were also a handful of locals in the mix. Overall, the race went well and was a lot of fun, and I finished an exact minute ahead of my goal time of two hours, pushing through a few semi-painful kilometers at the end.

So after a day of sore legs and spending a final afternoon with the Graber-Neufelds, I took the long bus ride back to Bangkok the following morning. Luckily, I was able to hitchhike in from the border with two journalists, one from Kentucky and the other from Perth, cutting a few hours off the journey. The next morning Eric and I met in that touristy Khao San road, once again together after nearly four months apart.

We spent a day or so recovering from our respective journeys (Eric had just come up from Indonesia), and then caught an overnight bus to Chiang Mai. We've passed our days here with a lot of conversations at the same Japanese restaurant, testing the palatability of the locally fried insects, and contemplating whether we have the energy to make the tourist trek up to visit the long-neck hill tribe (So far all we could muster up was the effort to buy a photograph of two long-neck children). Naturally our conversations have turned towards what is ahead more than exploring touristy Thailand to the point of exhaustion.

So I hope conclusions are not what you had in mind from my final blog post before flying to the United States, because if they are to come, it will be at a later time. Last night I brainstormed up a list of things that I am excited about in relation to returning to America, so that may give a few insights into some of our conversations this week.

(in no particular order)

Things I am looking forward to in the US:

- Not carrying my passport and money belt at all times
- Toilets that really flush
- Water that I can trust to drink
- Not carrying toilet paper
- Speaking American English
- Deeper Conversations
- Not primarily communicating through written media (Internet, email, etc.)
- Wearing more than two shirts
- Mom's home cooking, especially the desserts
- My bicycle
- Catching up with old friends
- Machine washing my clothes for the first time in five months
- High Speed Internet and my own computer & my new pirated software from Bangkok
- Intelligent humor
- Seeing how much junk I've sent home over the last year
- Sleeping in the same bed for more than a few days
- Regular exercise
- A dirty Chanellos pie with Josh Miller
- Breyers Coffee Ice Cream
- The portions of Truck Stop Dinners
- Catching up on the music and movies from the past 14 months
- Listening to my music
- Seasons and the lack of humidity in winter
- Graduate School and where ever that is
- Continuing the vision of this trip through practical applications

The next time I write I'll be in California ready to make the long and final road trip to PA. My plan is to arrive back at home sometime during the week before Christmas.

Tsunamis for Peace?

In my previous journal entry for this site, I painted a somewhat bleak picture of the rebuilding process in Banda Aceh. Relief work is a challenging, time-consuming process, and in most situations the needs far outnumber the available resources. At various points during the last month, I felt that my efforts were small and insignificant in the broader scope of things. Can I really feel good about building one house, while thousands of other families remain homeless... and probably will remain so for many more months?

It is inevitable that these kinds of questions will arise. Several years ago, while working at a mental health care facility in PA, I found myself battling a similar attitude. Like disaster relief, in the field of mental health there are very few "quick fixes." For every sucess story, there are countless other examples of patients who despite months and months of intense therapy, still fail to show any significant signs of improvement. When the same client is admitted onto the unit for the 5th time in a month, who wouldn't doubt whether their carefully invested time and energy is really making a difference? It is no coincidence that on my particular unit in the hospital, the rate of employee turnover was under one year...

There are many ways that people chose to deal with these feelings of hopelessness and discouragement. Some of my coworkers chose to drown them in the bottle after work. A few days ago, I was listening to a UN-sponsored radio program for NGO volunteers in Banda Aceh. This exact topic was being discussed, and several callers talked about the importance of getting a massage and manicure every few days, or treating themselves to a weekend of relaxation on the beach. It is true, people in demanding circumstances such as these need to make self-care a priority, or risk falling into an unhealthy state themselves. Yet there are positives to be found even in the most devastating of circumstances. Sometimes it feels a bit like looking for the proverbial "needle in a haystack" and the easiest option is to simply pronounce the entire endeavour useless. But the rewards are always there, even if we can't see them right away, or they develop where we least expect them. Now an example.

For the past 30 years, the province of Aceh has been the scene of a relentless and brutal conflict. Occupying one of the furthermost corners of the 18,000-island Indonesian archipelago, Aceh was never part of the Dutch colonial empire. When independence was declared in 1949, Aceh was lumped together with the rest of the Indonesian empire, much to the regret of many of the local people. In 1976, the Free Aceh Movement (G.A.M.) was born, and chose to pursue their seperatist ideals in a militant uprising against the Indonesian state. Of course Indonesia, unwilling to see a province with high deposits of natural gas and other resources become independent, launched a massive counter-attack.

The guerrila-style tactics used by G.A.M rebels and the intimidating campaigns of the military left many civilians caught in the middle. In 2002, a failed peace attempt between the two sides resulted in all-out martial law being imposed on the province. All foreign journalists and tourists were denied entry into Aceh, and troops by the thousands poured in. Details are sketchy about what really happened during those years of military isolation, but it is estimated that over 17,000 people lost their lives. And there seemed to be no solution in sight.

Then in late 2004, the tsunami hit. Within days, the province was opened to the world. Foreign representatives, journalists, and aid workers poured into the already troubled region. A temporary cease-fire was soon announced, and both sides made committments to allow much-needed aid to reach the survivors. Finally in August, with the assistance of a Monitoring Team from the E.U., a peace deal was signed which has resulted in thousands of troops leaving the province, and periodic collections of weapons from G.A.M rebels.

Of course, it remains to be seen whether peace will last in the region. Many international observers, however, remain optimistic. The present conditions in this particular area of conflict are ideal for establishing a lasting peace. First, the presence of the international press and aid workers has created an atmosphere of transparency and openess that has never been seen before in the region, and will mostly likely last for a substantial amount of time. In addition, the devastation caused by the tsunami has placed a necessary priority on rebuilding and aid work, and the government has been focusing much of its energy in those areas. And finally, the overwhelming majority of the population simply want peace. The past year has brought so much unexpected trauma and suffering, and the thought of struggling through even more turmoil because of an unneccessary conflict is the last thing the people want. While at one point the G.A.M. rebels received overwhelming support within the province, it seems that the tsunami disaster has brought a fresh perspective to many of Aceh's citizens. Tired of the suffering, they are ready for a change.

Am I suggesting that the tsunami was a good thing? Not exactly. It remains a most unfortunate and sorrowing incident that destroyed the lives of thousands. There is no escaping that aweful reality. However, there comes a point where one must begin to look for positives. We can spend the rest of our lives pleading the "why" question before God, but still receive no answers. In these situations, the problem lies not in God's inability to answer, but in our limited perspective. Even in an endless field of despair, there are always seeds of change and new life, waiting patiently for the right circumstances with which to emerge. Sometimes we catch glimpses of them, at other times we just have faith that they are there.

As we all know, the world around us is changing at a sometimes dizzying pace. Political agendas, natural disasters, and an explosion of technology across the planet are affecting even the remotest corners of the globe. Several weeks ago a devastating earthquake hit Pakistani-administered Kashmir, another isolated region of intense violence and conflict. Because of the destruction of many homes in the region, citizens are now at risk of freezing in the cold Himalayan winter. The situation has turned desperate, and it seems that even the bitter rivalry between the Pakistani and Indian governments is being put aside for the moment. Just yesterday, the governments cooperated for the second time in briefly opening up the border, so that family members on either side could visit relatives stranded just across the U.N. Line of Control. And in the past week, both goverments have made cautious appeals for a lasting peace. As was the case in Aceh, it seems that unfortunate circumstances are now opening doors of opportunity that had previously been closed for decades.

On Saturday evening, I said goodbye to my group of friends at Frontiers. It has been a most fulfilling month, complete with all the challenges and joys that come with living together in close community. And full of lots of internal processing about service work and our role in emulating Christ's example within the global community. On the same day that I left Banda Aceh, two of the Frontiers staff members were leaving for Pakistan, where they plan to assist another group of volunteers in trekking to some remote mountain villages to distribute emergency shelters. Had I not already bought flight tickets home in a few weeks (and depleted my budget for the trip!), I probably would have accepted their invitation to join them...

In the past two days I have spent more hours on a bus than off a bus. But just this morning I finally arrived back in Bangkok, where I intend to meet Dave at a guesthouse on Khao San in a few minutes. It has been four months since we've traveled together, and I think we are both looking forward to concluding this trip in the way that we started it. We have talked about going north to Chang Mai, but we'll see what happens. After Dave flies home on 2 Dec, I plan to make a brief visit to Laos before my return on 17 Dec.

Goodbye to Nepal

Since returning from the Everest Trek, I honestly haven't been too busy. My first goal was to recover and relax a little, starting out in the town of Pokhara, just south of the Annapurna mountain range and to the west of Kathmandu. I was still undecided at this point whether to try to fit in another trek, and after a few days relaxing out by the lake in Pokhara, I made my final decision not to try it, as it would have been an intense hike to fit into my schedule.

In Pokhara I coincidentally ended up at the same hotel as Nir, and Israeli friend I had hiked with in the Everest region. We spent a week in Pokhara reading, relaxing and just hanging out around town. I often went for an afternoon run up around the north end of the lake, out of the tourist region of the town. Looking back, it's probably best that I didn't begin a trek in the Annapurnas because a big snowstorm would have stranded me along with the 400 other trekkers for a few days near Manang. The same storm also took the lives of 17 French climbers and Sherpa porters attempting one of the peaks in the region.

I returned to Kathmandu and decided to hang around until my Uncle Galen would be passing through on a trip at the beginning of November. I hadn't seen a familiar face during the last 3 months and the thought of getting to spend some time with a family member was a wonderful treat. So I decided to wait there until he arrived, then head off to Calcutta overland.

While in Kathmandu, I spent a lot of time (again) doing nothing to adventurous, continuing with the running and reading and meeting new friends. I happened to meet four other friends for the Everest trek during this time including Pat, Matt & Tim who had recently came back from a tour in Tibet. After three months of a vegetarian diet, I decided to start eating a little meat again when we went to the Everest Steak house one night, where the menu offers huge steaks for about $3!

I also had the privilege of getting to know some of the local shop owners in Thamel, especially one family who ran one near my hotel. Nepal has a festival about every other week, and one evening they invited me a night of dancing out in the courtyard between their houses. During this festival the streets were decorated with "Christmas" lights and everyone was excited about the events going on around them... I felt honored to be at the party, meeting more local families and neighborhood leaders.

As the time approached to connect with Galen, I met Steve from Conestoga, PA, who was spending some time in Nepal helping out local church efforts. We spent a few days together, both happy to meet someone new and to talk some American English. On Saturday morning we went to a Nepali church in the Kathmandu valley and had the opportunity to meet some more local people.

I spent a wonderful evening with Galen and his friend Steve from India and then headed off the next day for Calcutta by land. I was mainly going to Calcutta to save money on a flight to Bangkok, but I also had a personal interest in seeing the city that my parents had visited for the Mennonite World Conference in 1997. I knew the overland route might be painful, but the rewards would make it the right decision.

So on Sunday night, I began my last long haul of this year-long journey. I left Kathmandu on an overnight bus, arriving at the border early morning. The bus was a little behind schedule (which is not usual) and I almost missed the train to Calcutta. Luckily I met a female traveler from Hong Kong who was able to go in the shorter women's line and buy us two tickets. I usually take second class sleeper cars, but today they were full, meaning the only way to get to Calcutta without waiting 24 hour for the next train was to sit on hard, wooden benches for the next 20.

All in all, it was definitely worth it, costing me only $7 to make the entire 36-hour journey from Kathmandu to Calcutta to save $100 on a flight and getting a quick glimpse of a new city. I've spent the last two days here walking around, struck by the many colonial remnants of the British presence here and the sporadic churches and missionary schools, which didn't seem at this density in the places I had traveled through in northern India. I also had a brief visit to Mother Theresa's orphanage, which was a highlight of my time here.

Tomorrow I will fly to Bangkok and after spending a few days there, head over for Cambodia where I will connect with some friends and run the half marathon on November 20th. And then in two more weeks after that I'll fly to LAX.

Living Like a Refugee

On the morning of 26 December 2004, the biggest earthquake in 40 years struck unexpectedly off the coast of northern Sumatra, Indonesia. The shifting of tectonic plates miles beneath the ocean?s surface triggered a massive displacement of water, and a series of giant waves began to spread rapidly across the Indian Ocean. Within a half hour, the tsunami?s 20-50 foot waves completely engulfed the coastal areas of northern Sumatra. As millions of people around the world were wrapping up Christmas celebrations with family and friends, this unexpected series of events left 232,000 people dead and many more without food, water, and shelter.

At the time, I was enjoying a relaxing evening at the home of a missionary couple in Cusco, Peru. Internet reports were still sketchy, but it seemed that this disaster would have a substantial long-term impact on that part of the world. Although Indonesia was not in my travel plans at the time, over the course of the next months I kept considering the possibility of visiting the affected areas, and volunteering for a longer period of time.

Exactly 10 months after the tsunami hit, I arrived in Aceh (pronounced ?ahh-chey?). Although coastlines across the region were affected, the northern capital city of Banda Aceh was by far dealt the hardest blow. On my first afternoon here, I spent several hours walking around the neighborhood where I would be working. Once a fairly wealthy area of town, nearly every house was now reduced to rubble. In many cases, only the foundations remain, which serve as a convenient, cleared area for residents to pitch their UN-issued refugee tents. Others, unwilling to give up so easily, are still living amidst their half-destroyed walls, with scraps of tin placed overhead to keep the rain out. And still others had long since left the area, the constant reminder of their loss too much to bear.

Walking around that day, the burden of what I was seeing was almost too much. I had only arrived a few hours earlier, but had already heard a handful of heartbreaking stories from the welcoming residents. A young teenager who had been swept away by the wave, miraculously survived by clinging to a tree, and returned to his home to find the rest of his family dead. Another middle-aged man who saw the wave coming, managed to find safety, and now lives in a make-shift shelter with his one remaining family member, a 6 yr old son. This is a city where 90,000 people lost their lives, so everyone has a story. And those that did manage to survive often found that they had lost everything else. All within several hours on an otherwise normal Sunday morning.

After a disaster of such magnitude, it is clear that the people of Banda Aceh needed (and still need) outside help. But what is the best way to help people in situations like this? Where do you begin? In what has been described as one of the most massive relief efforts of the century, supplies began to pour in and various NGO?s from around the world began to converge on the province of Aceh. Each with its own area of expertise, they quickly began to provide clean drinking water, distribute food, set up temporary shelters, etc. Although the aid that was provided was absolutely essential, the process was unfortunately fraught with miscommunication, corruption, and insensitivity to the local community. Not doubt the coordination required for such an effort is immensely challenging. Yet many Acehnese still talk sadly about the crates of donated relief supplies that remain at ports in Jakarta and Medan, stalled indefinitely by political bureaucracy and mismanagement.

After communication with several different groups involved with relief work in Aceh, I was connected with a Korean agency called Frontiers. It is a small, Christian organization that focuses on peacebuilding, particularly in areas of natural disaster. One of the projects that they are working on currently is the construction of a ?Peace House? for orphans and the handicapped of the community. Our team of volunteers consists of around a dozen people, from Indonesia, East Timor, Korea, Germany, and the United States (myself). Like the other organizations offering assistance here, it is a far from perfect program. Communication is often challenging, the vision feels at times vague, and progress is painstakingly slow. But overall it feels like a good fit.

Frontiers takes a different approach to relief work than many other NGO?s. Based on a biblical example, they make it a priority to live in community with the people they are serving. For our work in Aceh, this means living in similar conditions to those that have lost everything from the tsunami. At night, we sleep on wooden platforms in a cramped UN refugee tent, slapping persistently at mosquitos. Meals are prepared over a small portable stove and quickly devoured while sitting in a circle on the floor. Like our neighbors, we retrieve drinking water from the large orange tanks provided by the government of Kuwait. And after a hot day of work, water is drawn from the well and an awkward bucket bath follows. The conditions are definitely challenging. Meanwhile, looking down the street I can see a caravan of shiny black SUV?s, each representing different international relief organizations, returning to their nice offices in the suburbs.

In only two weeks of being here, I can already notice the benefits of such an approach. While locals refer to some of the other NGO?s with a certain degree of contempt and suspicion, it seems that our name is widely respected within the community. The people here don?t need internationals to come and flaunt their wealth, reminding them yet again of what they don?t have. They don?t need shortsighted visions for rebuilding, that throw money around and then within a few weeks are gone. What the locals here desire is solidarity; people who are willing to come live with them, listen to them, and work with them. Relief work is more than providing emergency supplies and meeting immediate needs. It is a long, painstaking process.

In the past year, I have had the opportunity to meet a variety of missionaries, service workers, and other internationals living in communities around the world. In conversations with these committed individuals, several themes have begun to emerge. In most situations, I find that what is lacking within mission and service organizations around the world is not financial resources, or more opportunities for locations to serve. We life in a suffering world with countless needs, and certainly it takes money to fund the ambitious programs that are needed. But the vast majority of the time, the missing ingredient is quite simply found in the human resources department. It?s easy to find people able to open a checkbook. What?s not so common are people who are willing to make other forms of sacrifice, particularly when they involve a longer term commitment.

In many ways this seems an appropriate way to wrap up the trip. I will not say that living in these conditions has been particularly easy, particularly at first. Yet during the past year, I have witnessed people in many countries living their entire lives under similar circumstances, and it is only fitting that I should experience it as well. To be completely honest, with each passing day I find the conditions of life here a little easier to handle. Gradually, life is reduced to the things that are truely important, and I'm finding that the list is much smaller than I once thought. Food, shelter, relationships, faith... Beyond the basics, contentment becomes entirely a state of mind.

Progress on the orphange is slowly coming along. Last week we had a ribbon-cutting cermony for the new toilets, and our current focus is on the wooden paneling that covers the interior. Taking it one step at a time, I am constantly reminded of the need to focus on the process, as opposed to structural perfection or approaching deadlines. Without a doubt, there are easier ways to build a house, and living conditions that are far more comfortable. But I remain grateful for the challenges of this experience, and the learning opportunities that it has provided.

My current plan is to spend approximately two more weeks here in Banda Aceh, and then take a ferry to Malaysia and back up to Thailand. Around the end of the month, it looks as though my path will cross with Dave's again, and we hope to spend a week or so together before his flight back to the U.S. It will be good to swap stories, reflect on the adventures of the past year, and support each other in anticipation of the return home. Which believe it or not, is now little more than a month away...

Ramadhan Reflections

I met Gama quite unexpectedly at the bus stop. If I didn?t have a lost and confused look on my face, I certainly should have. My destination was Bukittinggi, a sleepy town high in the mountains about two hours away by public bus. According to the hotel manager, getting there was easy. Just wait on the curb for a red mini-bus to come along, take it to the main bus terminal, and board any bus heading north on the Trans-Sumatran highway. Sounded simple enough, but after a half-hour of waiting, I still hadn?t advanced past the first step. With deepening frustration, I watched every other color of mini-bus go flying by, with happy Indonesians stuffed inside and sometimes spilling out the door. But none of them were red.

That?s when Gama showed up. With a bit of hesitation, he shyly introduced himself and asked if I needed help. Very few Indonesians speak English, and his was by far the best I had heard yet. I immediately let out a short breath of relief, and explained my situation. With an eager grin spreading across his face, he said that he had some free time, and would be glad to show me an easier way to get to Bukittinggi. Being an English teacher, he explained that he was always looking for opportunities to practice his English. So we spent the next hour walking across town to a different transportation terminal, talking as we went. Upon arrival, I thanked him for his help, and we exchanged emails before going our separate ways.

Less than 24 hours earlier I had arrived in the bustling city of Padang, on the western coast of Indonesia?s largest island, Sumatra. My flight from Singapore took off in the midst of a downpour, and was one of those bumpy, make-you-wanna-hurl amusement park rides that seem to go on forever. But within an hour, the plane dropped out of the clouds and smoothly touched down at a quiet airport along the beach. The three-room terminal was surrounded by beautiful palm trees, and in the distance I could see the peaks of a rugged, volcanic mountain range rising from the plain. Indonesia looked truly exotic, and I was eager to explore. I spent only a night in Padang, just long enough to wander the marketplace, attend a church service, and make preparations for my journey north.

Bukittinggi has been a popular backpacker destination for a long time. It is surrounded by a ring of majestic volcanoes, and has a surprisingly cool climate nearly all year round. This year, however, the tourists are virtually nonexistent. Last year?s devastating tsunami, coupled with the recent bombings in Bali, have effectively wiped Indonesia right out off the tourist map. All the hotels in town stood empty, and many travel agencies I talked to where struggling desperately to keep their doors open. It is a sad situation, given the absolute beauty of the region and the overwhelming warmth of the Indonesian people.

I ended up spending about three days in Bukittinggi. Sitting on the balcony of my hotel room, I spent the mornings reading through Yann Martel?s Life of Pi, and got started on a James Herriot book that I found for cheap at a local used bookshop. In the afternoon and evening, I often explored around town. It is currently the holy month of Ramadhan, when Muslims are called to devote themselves to personal reflection and strengthening their faith. To this end, they must refrain from eating, drinking, and having sexual relations from sunrise to sunset. With over 90 percent of the population in Indonesia being Muslim, the fasting is strictly observed. All restaurants, including the western fast-food chains, are required to close their doors from sunrise to sunset. Which effectively means that travelers such as myself are observing Ramadhan as well! For good reason, most of the locals take life at a slower place during this month, and so there were plenty of opportunities for simple conversation with people relaxing in the park or strolling through the streets.

It was on my third day in Bukittinggi, just as I was feeling an urge to get moving again, that I got an email from Gama. It came as a bit of a surprise. Although I often exchange email addresses with people along the way, it is rare that the correspondence is actually kept up, particularly after such a short encounter. In his email, Gama personally invited me to return to Padang, stay at his house for a few days, and meet his family and friends. And since it was Ramadhan, there were many special traditions that he was excited to share with me, if I had the time. Since I was heading north, returning to Padang would mean several hours of backtracking, and possibly a few days lost that I could have seen something new. But after reflecting on my current lack of enthusiasm for ?touristy travel? and pondering some of the goals that this trip was established for, it all became quite clear in my head. I quickly responded to his email, telling him that I was very excited about coming.

I arrived back in Padang on Friday afternoon, and Gama was waiting for me at the place where we had said goodbye only a few days earlier. He assured me that everything was in place for my visit, and that I would be very welcome in his home. Since his family actually lives in another town, Gama lives with his aunt and cousins while taking classes at the university in Padang. We took the bus across town to his aunt?s house, where I met much of his extended family. After a short nap, Gama informed me of the plan for the evening. First, we were invited to the home of two of his English students, where we would break the fast together with their family. Afterwards, we would walk around town and explore the lively street scene. Then, at 9pm, I was to be the guest star on a local call-in radio program for teenagers. I was a little unsure of how everything would play out (particularly that last part), but was sure that it would be an entertaining evening.

In every Muslim home during this time of year, a piece of paper is hung in a prominent location listing the precise times of sunrise and sunset. When we arrived at the home of Desi Puspita, Devi Safitri, and Deva Sabrina (his students), there were still several minutes remaining until we could break the fast, so we sat around making introductions and practicing English. At the moment of sunset, the father of the family summoned us all to the table, where a tray of delicious sweets and fruits lay waiting. It is tradition to break the fast with something sweet, and we all hungrily dug in. Following this tasty appetizer, everyone made their way single-file to the bathroom, where each washed their hands and feet, and then retreated to their bedrooms for prayer. Within a few minutes, all had returned to the living room, and we all sat down on the floor to eat a delicious spread of rice, fish, chicken, vegetables, and more sweets. I thought that I can sometimes eat a lot, but on this occasion there was no need for embarrassment! Everyone around me was using their hands to shovel scoops of delicious food into their mouths, and I joined in the fun.

The streets outside were a maze of commotion. Food vendors on three-wheeled bicycle carts dodged between the lines of traffic, eyes scanning the crowds for someone needing nourishment. The restaurants were packed, with the latecomers being told to come back later when seats would be available. Walking around the town that evening, I was quick to note the drastic change from the lazy, relaxed atmosphere of only a few hours ago. On our way to the radio station, we walked past the massive mosque at the center of town, its minaret a glow of florescent light. Inside, hundreds of people were kneeling in prayer, their muffled words of supplication floating out through the windows and door into the street beyond.

Every Friday night, the government radio station in Padang does a ?Guest-Star? program, which has proved particularly popular among the youth of the city. Although usually determined by chance the night of the show, Gama had made some sort of previous arrangement with the DJ, and I was already set to be the guest-star. It was an appointment that I accepted with some hesitation, given (among other things) my very limited vocabulary of the Indonesian language. But Gama came on the air with me, and with his translation the show went along quite well. Throughout the course of two hours, we accepted callers from all over the city, covering topics such as American culture, my perceptions of Indonesia, politics, music, relationships, and so on. Once I settled into the flow of the show, I actually enjoyed myself quite a bit, and even learned a few new Indonesian words courtesy of my helpful audience. My confidence about how things were going was personally called into question only once, when a caller requested that a song be played by the band Green Day. Without missing a beat, the DJ mercilessly cued up the song ?American Idiot.? He later assured me that it was all in fun, and I guess I?ll choose to believe him.

After a short night of sleep, I awoke with the rest of the household at 4am the following morning. With light just beginning to creep over the horizon, we ate our breakfast together in silence. Everyone seemed to know that this meal needed to take them through the entire day, and treated it with due respect and seriousness. Once the prayers were completed, we all piled back into our beds and slept for a few more hours. This Ramadhan thing sure creates an awkward and unnatural routine. Despite not feeling a personal commitment to it, I cannot help but respect the discipline and dedication that it demands.

We woke up for the second time, and Gama asked if I would like to see around his university. Sounded interesting to me, and so for the next few hours we walked around the large campus. Classes were out of session for Ramadhan, but I did get to see some of the buildings and enjoyed the nice view looking down over the city. I was amazed at how quickly the time passed, and before long we were back at the house to pack my bags and say goodbye. After months of travel, I tried to think back to the last time I took the time to develop a relationship like that with someone from the country I was in. It had been too long, and in that recognition I began to unravel some of the discontentedness I?ve been feeling recently about traveling.

A 25-hour bus ride later, I am now in the congested city of Medan. From here, it is another overnight bus journey north to the northern tip of Sumatra and the coastal town of Banda Aceh. Quite frankly, I am tired of buses. Now more than a year since starting this journey, I have been on more than I care to remember. And of course the endless process of figuring out where I am, where I want to go, and how to get there consumes more time and energy that one would initially realize. With that perspective, the prospect of staying in one place for awhile and settling into a community becomes a very attractive thing indeed. My recent experience with Gama has also reaffirmed my need for a change. Once again, I?m finding that it?s time to get off the beaten path, start developing meaningful relationships, and get involved in serving the world.

As I mentioned in my previous journal, I have been connected with a Christian organization called The Frontiers that is doing tsunami relief work in Banda Aceh. They are currently working to build an orphanage for children affected by the disaster, and have responded enthusiastically to my offers to help out. It is exciting to see my needs and the local needs coming together, and I anticipate a very rewarding experience. Although in a few hours I?ll be getting on yet another bus, I have a feeling my feet won?t be dragging quite as much this time?

Top of the World

This journal entry describes a little about my recent trekking expedition up to the Everest Base Camp region in Nepal. I also posted over a 100 photos of the trip in the gallery on this website with captions that go into more detail. There are four sub-albums that can be reached by opening the main one.

Itinerary

My plan was to begin hiking at Jiri, avoiding the $90 flight to Lukla and to make the destinations of the trek the Everest Base Camp (5364m) and Kala Patthar (5550m), the best close-up viewpoint of Mt. Everest. I would then hike back to Jiri and catch a bus to Kathmandu.

When I found out that I had more time than previously expected, I also added a few side trips: one to the Island Peak Base Camp and another that crossed the Cho La Pass (5330m) to the Gokyo region which has five beautiful lakes. I hiked a different route back from Gokyo to Namche Bazaar, mixing up the way back.

Hiking Companions

Although I began my trip out to the trailhead alone, I soon met a few other hikers in Jiri. A few of us began at the same time, but it was only Francois and I that continued together for nearly the entire route.

Francois, a Quebec native, recently came from a two-year English teaching job in Japan. He had also just spent a month with a Nepali family, volunteering at a local school and during this time learned to speak a decent amount of Nepali. We liked to walk at a similar pace, fast, and went parallel for a while, and then eventually just stuck together until Lukla, where he flew back to Kathmandu and I walked the remaining few days alone. Most of the photos in the gallery that have me in them are taken by him. We're going to get together here in Kathmandu tomorrow before he flies to Hong Kong the following day.

I also met a lot of other hikers and travelers along the trail and we got to know each other as we waited to acclimatize over hot tea and Dal Baht in the lodges at night. Here are some websites of people I met on the trek.

Francois (Canada): http://www.silversow.com/quebec
Pat (USA): http://www.patrickmoloney.com
Matthew (AUS): http://mjackson82.blogspot.com/
Dustin (USA): http://www.getjealous.com/tancred

The Maoists

The revolutionary militant Communist group controlling most of the hill
country of Nepal is known as the Maoists. This group has been
responsible for acts of terrorism over the past few years and has had a
devastating effect on tourism, one of the country's main sources of
income.

The situation is currently safe; Maoists do not seem to be physically harming tourists, but they have been "taxing" them when them pass through their areas of control. Last year the charge was 1000 Nepali rupees ($15) for the popular trekking routes. Unfortunately this year for some reason, the rate has been raised to 5000 ($75).

This is a lot of money for a budget traveler like myself, so I was
bound to do what I could not to pay this sum, which would most likely
to go buy more weapons for the militant group. Fortunately, a lodge
owner tipped us off where the collecting check post was in our route,
near Bhandar. She told us to take another route down to the river,
hopefully avoiding needing to pay. We were successful! On the way
back, I took a wider detour and avoided the town of Bhandar altogether,
getting out without paying anything. The majority of the trekkers I talked to paid somewhere between 2000 and 5000, as the price seemed a little negotiable with some bargaining.

The Sherpas & Trekking Tourism

Nepal is a mosaic of distinct ethnic groups and present in the Everest region are the Sherpas. Famous for their ability to cope with high altitudes and the associated mountaineering success, these people have also found a good business in trekking tourism. Unfortunately the Maoist presence has reduced the number of trekkers greatly, especially at the lower altitudes before Lukla, where it is possible to fly into and avoid the areas of Maoist control. For me this was a mixed blessing, as I enjoyed this area relatively free from tourists, especially the ones that pack like 25kg and then make a poor Sherpa porter drag it up the mountains for them...

Two times along the trail I remember being amazed at the Sherpas' ability to carry heavy loads up into the thin air. One was as we were coming over a pass and met a woman possibly 80 years old wearing a huge backpack that probably weighed more than her. Another is when we passed a group of men carrying pieces of a disassembled pipeline (there's a photo of this in the gallery).

Altitude

One of my fears going into this trek was how I would deal with the
altitude with a past history of asthma. Everyone's body reacts a
little differently to the decrease in air pressure and oxygen content,
and the only way to find out is to get up there.

All of the altitudes I have indicated in the photos are in meters, the way the rest of the world sees it. If you would like to do a rough conversion, just multiply the number by 3 and then add a little. The
exact conversion is: 1m = 3.28ft.

The key to success in getting to higher altitudes is to take is slowly, sleeping no more than 300m higher each night. It's fine to hike higher during the day, only the subsequent sleeping heights matter. So this means a lot of waiting on a trek like this one. After Namche Bazar, I could have walked the whole way to Everest Base Camp in a day, but instead needed to take six days to allow my body to produce enough red blood cells to function well at decreased oxygen levels.

Around 4300m, I had my blood oxygen saturation checked and found it to
be 89%, right at the top of the normal range for this altitude. At the highest altitude of the trek (Kala Patthar, 5550m), the amount of oxygen present in the air is half of what it is at sea level. On the top of Mt. Everest (8848m), this drops to one third. So overall, I did quite well with the higher altitudes, which was a relief to me to know that I can now do it in the future, if I take my time.

Mountaineering

Another one of my goals for this trip was to get a glimpse of bigger scale mountaineering. The trips out to Island Peak base camp and talking to other climbers gave me a little idea of what this scene was like in Nepal. One thing I learned is that it is expensive in this country. All peaks above 6000m require a permit to climb, ranging from $200 all the way up to around $10,000 (Everest, of course). The closest that I got to this experience was probably the day we crossed the Cho La Pass, covered in snow and requiring some basically non-technical bouldering to descend. It was one of my favorite days however, and I have to wait to see what that means for future experiences. This was the only time on the trip where I wished I had my mountaineering boots instead of an old pair of running shoes, but I survived.

Pace & Physical Challenge

One of the things I discovered quite clearly on this trip is that my hiking pace is a lot faster than most of the people out there. I was lucky to find Francois and his similar desire to put in long and fast days. Together we completed in 18 days what the travel books describe as taking more than 30. The trip from Gokyo Peak back to Jiri lasted only four days, a time that impressed even the Sherpas.

Besides being how I like to hike, part of the reason I wanted to push the pace for this trip is because I'm planning to run a half-marathon at Angkor Wat in Cambodia with my friend and former EMU biology professor, Doug Graber-Neufeld on November 20th. The trip was a good way to get some intense exercise. I'm just hoping I can keep my RBC count high for the next month! Now I'll have to start running as soon as I am ready to get back on my feet, which honestly still ache a little.

At Present

I'll be spending a few days relaxing and recovering in Kathandu, deciding where to go next. I was planning on fitting in the entire Annapurna Circuit, which I believe could be done seeing how fast the Everest Trek went, but I need to decide if that's what I want right now. At the moment, a few good books and a view of the Pokhara Lake also sound attractive. We shall see...

In two or three weeks, I'll return to India to Calcutta, fly to Bangkok and spent the last few weeks in Thailand and Cambodia before flying to Los Angeles and heading back to the east coast of the good old USA.

Bangkok to Singapore: 4 Weeks in a Nutshell

Here on the southern tip of the Malay peninsula, I don't have to look around for long to realize that I'm not in India anymore. Houses of rusting concrete and tin have been replaced by towering skyrise apartment buildings of steel and glass. Puttering 3-wheeled rickshaws are now shiny luxury sedans. The winding city streets, once a maze of cows, pedestrians, and vendors, have been transformed into beatifully manicured boulevards lined with palms and flowering orchids. This is the island country of Singapore. The epitome of modernization, it represents a culture of absolute efficiency, cleanliness, and organization.

Although the initial contrasts are stark, the past four weeks of traveling south down the peninsula from Thailand have provided a much more gradual transition. Although countries in Southeast Asia are often simply lumped together as being basically the same, I have found this stereotype to be a shameful misrepresentation. There is a rich diversity here, not only between countries, but even within the borders of each individual nation. The past four weeks have quickly passed, but have left me with a variety of unique experiences and fond memories.

Thailand

Following our arrival at the airport in Bangkok, Meike and I took an airport bus across town to the traveler's ghetto known as Khao San. I was immediately blown away by the impressive transportation system. Zipping across the city on an elevated highway, I couldn't remember ever traveling this fast, in such a straight line, during my two months in India. It made me uncomfortable, not because of my safety, but because I had this feeling that things were passing by too quickly... I just couldn't take it all in! In reality, we were probably only traveling between 50-60 mph, but it felt like a lot faster.

As Bangkok is the main transportation hub for the region, there are travelers constantly passing through. Although only those looking for a party really end up spending substantial time in Bangkok (sometimes called "Sin-City"), it does serve as a convenient jumping-off point. Which is precisely what Meike and I used it for. We spent a day looking through travel books, consulting with other travelers, catching up on internet, and figuring out the plan. Eventually we decided on first spending a few days in Cambodia, and then traveling south by land through southern Thailand, Malaysia, and eventually Singapore.

Thailand is unique among its southeast Asian neighbors. Never having been occupied by a foreign power or suffering the crippling effects of civil war, Thailand has a history of sucessful unity, which has contributed substantially to its economic growth and stability. It has opened itself to the rest of the world through favorable economic policies and heavily promoting its tourism industry. These factors, including the laid-back welcoming demeanor of the Thai people, make it an easy and enjoyable place to travel. And the food is pretty good too... once you learn how to eat it! On our first evening in Bangkok, I was served a bowlful of noodles and chopsticks. It was a little longer dinner than usual, but since that first night my skills in eating with sticks have gradually improved.

We ended up staying about three days in Bangkok. On a tip from a local school teacher we met on the street, it was discovered that we had arrived in the city at just the right time. He informed us that several of the Buddhist temples around town were open to foreigners on that particular day (which only happens once a year!). So ditching our guidebook, we took his advice and visited a few of the wats (temples) off the traditional tourist path. We were rewarded with an inside look at some of these colorful and serene buildings that dot the city. Aside from visiting wats, we also explored the bazaars of Chinatown, took a ferry down the river, and even splurged on a $3 Thai massage for an hour one afternoon. Eventually, however, cities around the world all seem to feel the same, and I was ready to move on.

Cambodia

If Thailand is a historical sucess story, the only way to describe Cambodia is absolute tragedy. In the early years, Cambodia was at the heart of the mighty Khmer empire, by far the most dominant in the history of the region. Centered in the city of Angkor, the Khmers developed extensive irrigation systems, built magnificent temples, and managed to retain control of their territory from the 7th to 13th centuries. However, subsequent invasions by the Thais and Vietnamese left the Khmer empire in shambles, and Angkor was abandoned. Eventually, the French took control of modern-day Cambodia in 1864, but preferred to invest in the development of resource-rich Vietnam, leaving Cambodia much on its own. With very little opposition, Cambodia was granted its independence in 1953.

Shortly after, Cambodia was dragged into a conflict it wanted nothing to do with, and things turned ugly. In its bid to free the region from the "threat of Communism", the U.S. was undergoing secret bombing campaigns throughout Cambodia to root out Vietnamese communists crossing over the border. As is always the case, the innocent villagers suffered the most, many of them being driven from their homes and losing precious family members and property. Caught in the middle, many Cambodians (already with an intense distrust of the Vietnamese), decided to side with the Americans, believing that they would eventually fulfill their promises to defeat the Vietnamese.

As we all know, this isn't what happened. Two weeks before the fall of Saigon to the communists, the U.S. withdrew its forces from Cambodia, and the country plunged into total chaos. Out of the created vacuum emerged the Khmer Rouge, led by their brutal dictator Pol Pot. Under his initiative to create a Marxist, peasant-dominated state, he ordered the massacre of thousands of the educated, "free-thinking" elite. And in the meantime, thousands more of the poorest Cambodians died as a result of famine and forced labor. It was one of the most radical and brutal revolutions in history, and nearly two million Cambodians died within those four years of Khmer Rouge tyranny. Eventually the Khmer's were overthrown by an invasion by Vietnam communists, and Pol Pot and his followers fled to the hills. Their guerilla war against the Vietnamese continued through the 80's, backed by indirect support from none other than the USA.

Walking along the potholed streets of Cambodia, the effects of war are still very much present. Many people hobble around on crutches, or sit silently along the sidewalks, having lost limbs from stepping on landmines and other unexploded ordinance. There is also a deep distrust of foreign involvement, an obvious reaction to feeling used and then alienated by the U.S. during the Vietnam era. Corruption runs rampant, particularly within the newly established democratic government, hungry for votes and a tighter control over the emerging economy. Tourism is viewed as the savior, and believe me, there is potential there.

In my travels thus far, I have never seen anything quite like the Angkor temples, north of Siem Reap. A magnificent complex stretching for miles through the jungles of northwest Cambodia, it deserves a visit for anyone traveling in this part of the world. Meike and I decided to make the trip from Bangkok in a day, first taking the train to the border, and then a long bus ride to the temples. Unfortunately, corruption has already taken over the tourist business as well, and we ended up buying overpriced tickets for a bus that took an exceptionally long time to get there. On purpose of course, so that when we arrived at Siem Reap late at night, we would stay at the hotel where we were dropped off, and the bus drivers would get a fat commission. Feeling a bit upset by the whole ordeal, Meike and I refused to give in to their little game, and despite the late hour walked around until we found a cheaper hostel in much better condition.

After a day of exploring Siem Reap, we got up early the next morning and spent an entire day at the ancient temples. It is impossible to walk the entire complex in a day, so we rented bicycles, which proved to be an enjoyable way to get around. By far the most stunning temple is Angkor Wat, 55m high and surrounded by a moat of nearly 3 square km. There is no larger religious building in the world, and very few that can match the beauty of its intricate design. Built by Suryavarman II in the 1100's, it was constructed to honor the Hindu god of Vishnu, and also conveniently served as his funerary temple upon his death. We spent over 12 hours exploring the many temples and artifacts around Angkor, yet could certainly have spent much more. The following day, we endured the long bus ride back to Thailand, spent a day recuperating, and then jumped on an overnight bus down to Malaysia.

Malaysia

To me anyway, the country of Malaysia conjures up images of an exotic and mysterious land, far removed from the scope of world politics and international fame. Prior to our arrival, about the only recognizable landmark I could identify from the country were the futuristic Petronas towers in Kuala Lumpur, for several years the tallest building in the world. Perhaps it was this subtle curiosity about the "unknowns" of the country that led Meike and I to spend more time here than in any other country in Southeast Asia.

What I found in this marvelous country was a peaceful coexistance of a variety of people groups. Native Malays, Chinese, Indians, and indigenous tribes, scattered throughout the country and harmoniously living together. Unlike the tensions that diversity has caused in neighboring countries such as Indonesia, and increasingly now also in Thailand, Malaysians have figured out a way to avoid these clashes in culture and ethnic background. In fact, they are so fully integrated that many people have trouble identifying their unique identity as Malaysians. I would venture that a good place to start would be in their tolerance of diversity.

No place is this heterogeneity more noticeable than on the western coast island of Penang. People from all over the region have been settling on this beautiful island for centuries, and today an equally diverse group of travelers make it their primary destination in Malaysia. Meike and I spent several days in the city of Georgetown, sampling the delicious variety of food available from hawkers roaming the streets at any time of day or night. Upon arrival, our friendly hostel manager informed us that it is impossible to go hungry in Penang, and I would have to agree. And for the first time in months, we could actually drink the tap water, a wonderful convience when brushing teeth, and a blessing to the money belt!

Our next destination in Malaysia were the Perhentian islands, on the opposite side of the peninsula. Not so much authentic local culture there, but definitely plenty of beautiful beaches and sunshine. After some long days on the road, it felt good to relax in one place for awhile, catch up on some reading, and hang out with some fellow travelers. We arrived on Pulau Perhentian Kecil via a 2-hour ferry from the mainland. The monsoon season was soon to come, and so we had no problem finding very inexpensive accomodations on the island. But the weather was still beautiful and the water warm. A highlight from the time on the islands was renting snorkling gear for a day, and getting to swim with a giant sea turtle and a "friendly shark" that was at least as long as I was.

Along with several other travelers from our hostel on the island, we made our next destination the Taman Negara national park, deep in the interior of the peninsula. The most popular way of getting there is via the Jungle Train, which although not the quickest method of travel, does provide a great view of the dense jungle growth along the way. At times, the bamboo and overhanging vines would knock against the side of the passing train car, giving the feeling that we were completely engulfed in the jungle. It then takes an additional 3 hours by boat to reach the Taman Negara park headquarters. Because of a short schedule, we could only afford to stay one night in the park, but had time to do several hours of jungle hiking and go across the world's longest canopy walkway. The park has several popular and inexpensive "hides" scattered around that have bunks for up to 12 people, and are built overlooking a salt lick. Unfortunately, we didn't see much wildlife while in the hide, but did witness an awe-inspiring thunderstorm in the middle of the night.

The capital city of Kuala Lumpur was our final stop in Malaysia. With only a few days until Meike needed to be in Singapore for her flight, we spent a day and a half wandering around the city. Although Malaysia remains a predominantly Islamic country and has regions of strict conservatism, this is generally not the case in KL. It is a city that has welcomed Western industrialization and modernization, which is clearly evident in its staggering skyline. We were fortunate one afternoon to get last-minute free tickets to visit the skybridge of the Petronas twin towers. The towers were completed in 1998 at a cost of $1.9 billion, and until just recently was the tallest building in the world. The unique design was based on an Islamic 8-sided star, and the five tiers represent the 5 pillars of Islam. At the base of the towers is an ultra-modern shopping mall and cinema complex, that as far as I can tell have very little to do with Islam. The following morning, we took a bus down to the southern tip of the Peninsula, and crossed the Strait of Johor into Singapore.

Singapore

Singapore has long held a reputation as being a sort of "nanny-state." Civil obedience is held in utmost regard. The prime example of this being the mandatory conviction of death for anyone found being involved in drug trafficking. On a lesser degree, even behaviors such as smoking in public, failing to cross the street at a crosswalk, and possession of large quantities of chewing gum can lead to surprisingly hefty fines. While the straightforward orderliness of everything here can be a welcome relief, for travelers such as myself it can also be a bit overwhelming.

Once a part of Malaysia, Singapore also has a richly diverse culture. One of my favorite places to hang out here has been in Little India, where the Bollywood pop music blares from speakers, and the atmosphere is lively and colorful. And of course Indian specialities like masala dosa and all-you-can-eat thali are readily available and reasonably priced. I am currently staying at the cheapest hostel I could find ($9 USD a night!), on a side street of Little India, and rooming with an Indian, two Japanese, and an African. It has been most interesting, but I am ready to move on.

Yesterday marked a major transition on the trip for me. Meike, also on her own around-the-world journey, flew out on a morning flight for Australia. Having traveled together for quite some time, it was sad to see our time together come to an end. But the next two months also present some exciting possibilities. I have been in contact with several organizations in Indonesia about tsunami-related relief efforts. There seem to be some opportunities developing, and the prospect of getting involved on a deeper level in a local community is very exciting.

So after some prayer and further research, my current plan is to head for the island of Sumatra, on the archipelago of Indonesia. Because of the explosion of budget airlines across southeast asia, it is actually cheaper for me to take a flight, instead of a ferry plus bus combinations. I expect to take about two weeks traveling around Sumatra, starting first in the west coast city of Padang, and gradually heading north to Aceh, hopefully to start my volunteer work around the end of the month.

Up & Back

Since no one has heard anything from me in the past three weeks, I just wanted to let everyone know that I am safely back from the trek, alive and well. I finished in a lot less time than I expected, so there is space for another one.

I'll be spending a few days (until the 17th) resting and eating well in Katmandu before heading out to trek the Annapurna Circuit.

I'll write more about the hike later.

Pre-Everest Base Camp

Hello from Kathmandu, Nepal! It was only about ten days ago that I left the peace and quiet of Dharamsala to travel back through the madness of Delhi to Varanasi, my last destination in India before coming to Nepal. A lot of the time since then has been somewhat uneventful, so I won't go into a lot of detail. It was basically a trip to Nepal with a few stops.

India can be quite chaotic and busy, and for a lot of that last week I just wanted to move on. The Nepali people have been very friendly and honest with me so far, and in India it felt like people were often just friendly, seeing me as a walking ATM machine. You can put up with it for a while, but eventually you just need a break, which meant getting on the road a few days early.

I arrived in Nepal four days ago and have been spending my time preparing for a trek which I will begin tomorrow. About a year ago, when we were planning for this trip, the India was to spend some time hiking the Himalayas, possibly doing one of the larger journeys that last a few weeks. Over the last few weeks, I've been debating over which trip to do, but the decision seemed to settle into the Everest Base Camp Trek.

For those of you who are a little confused, I'm not climbing Mt. Everest. The ultimate destinations will be the base camp (5350m), where climbing expeditions start from and to a nearby viewpoint of Mt. Everest (5545m). The trip should take three to four weeks of walking (round trip), taking most of the month of October. This is the best time of year to take the trek, as the monsoon rains have just finished, the fields are green, and the weather is cool but not freezing. The route climbs up and up into the heart of the Himalayas, through many small villages accessible only by foot and eventually into the Sagarmatha National Park, where Mt. Everest is located.

I've spent a most of the last four days doing research about conditions, supplies, etc, as well as doing some shopping for a few things that I needed. The tourist count is slightly down now in Nepal because of the Maoist situation, but I still expect to see a lot of people on the trail. A lot of people seem drawn to the highest mountain in the world, myself surely included. It will be interesting to meet the kind of people who make this sort of pilgrimage, one that I feel I can identify with in many ways.

So, It looks like I will be out of internet and email contact for the next month. If anyone needs to reach me, you just have to wait a little while...or get back to me in the next couple of hours.

After I get back, I'll spend a few more weeks in Nepal, and then travel back to India to Calcutta to catch a flight for Bangkok. After a few weeks in Thailand and Cambodia, it will be time to come home.

The Essence of India

"Please Ma'am." With a slight bow the Indian doorsman opens the door of the airconditioned jeep. Thanks to Annette's French friend, Danielle, who works as a tour operator in India, we just got an exclusive tour of a luxerious resort at Kovalam Beach in South India. With the words, "Ladies, please take my card" the vice president of sales gives each of us his business card. I'm supposed to act as Danielle's assistant and putting on a professional looking smile, I try to appear interested in the discussions about suite prices, personal servants and check-in at the airport. From the corner of my eye, I take a peek at the card I just received. It says: "The Leela, Kovalam Beach. The Essence of India."

I almost have to start out laughing aloud. Out of the stylish reception hall with a shiny parquet ground, I look through the gigantic open glass doors on a clear swimming pool, whose edge seems to fuse with the open sea beyond. Next to it, Annette, Eric and Arun sit at a table whose discreet decoration on the white table cloth is tastefully done in the same colors as the one in the entrance hall. Eric is looking a little puzzled as a waiter takes the white cloth napkin and puts it on his lap with an elegant swing. Everything here is very aesthetical, elegant, clean and organized.

That must be a joke, calling this -admittedly very tastful ambience- the "essence of India!" All that is within me rebels against this description. The being of India, that which is at the core of this country, is the exact opposite: chaotic, dirty, loud and colorful! At least that is the India that Eric and I have gotten to know and love. And suddenly I am incredibly happy that we travel on a low budget, despite its often being uncomfortable. That we are not brought from an airconditioned airport to an airconditioned hotel by an airconditioned resort cab, always sealed off from the "real India" ....real India with its permanently honking busses, temples with colorful lights and millions of begging untouchables. But that we persitantly bargain prices with rickshaw drivers...... get an often crazy ride to the train station, avoiding pot holes and cows on the way.... make our way through the masses of people sleeping on the station floor.... finally arrive at our reserved seats... and then the adventure may begin.

I just love riding trains in India! After shamelessly staring at us at in the beginning, people pretty fast open up, usually beginning the conversation by the familiar "What is your country, please?" question. And while we learn more about arranged marriages within the same caste (still valid for almost all social groups in India), Hindu gods and people's lives, the vendors from Indian Railways pass by. In an about three minutes' time we can hear in a crescendo and decrescendo: "CHAI COFFEE!" Their deep rasping voices (which seems to be the same all over India) always make me laugh! Their faces brighten to a smile when we accept to buy the sweet beverage in a plastic cup for 4 Rupees (8 cents). Unfortunately all these plastic cups and all the other garbage as well are thrown out of the window into the beautiful countryside. When we try to collect our garbage in a plastic bag we only get uncomprehensive looks from the Indians. What are you planning to do with it? And in some ways they are right.... I sometimes start to doubt whether the word "litter box" even exists in Hindi as the actual thing doesn't seem to exist!

On the 20th of September we will fly from Calcutta to Bangkok. I will be missing India. With all its contrasts and contradictions, "Incredible India" seems to be so full of life! I let my thoughts wonder back at a couple of episodes from this trip:

There are the things that make me laugh: when we buy our train tickets we have to queue up on the counter with the sign saying ?for blind, deaf, cancer, tourist and freedom fighters? (tourists really do have a special status in India, don't they...?) :)

Then there are the things that astonish me: How is it possible that such a chaotic society can have such a huge bureaucracy? Germany, which always seemed the worst to me, seems nothing compared to that! When we check in at a hostel, each of us must besides the passport-and visas data also indicate their fathers name and occupation. Nowhere verifiable and simply totally unnecessarily!!