Cool fellow travelers, not-so-cool Cambodians in Siam Reap (Ankgor Wat! Wat!)

You last heard from me when I was about to board a bus from Chiang Mai, Thailand to Siam Reap, Cambodia, site of the ancient Ankgor Wat temples. Although I started to write my blog entry back on February 26th, I’m now writing this 2 weeks after the fact, from Addis Ababa Ethiopia. After 2 months of constant travel and diligent blog entries every 4-5 days, I’ve clearly found it challenging to keep it up while traveling in developing countries, probably because every day is a bit more tiring and overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong; the past month in Thailand, Cambodia and Ethipoia has been a million times more culturally rewarding than Fiji resorts and New Zealand/Australia busses, with new words to learn, music to listen to and foods to try. But when stepping back and thinking about what to write at night, I found myself leaning toward reading about the place I was in, and skyping with friends and family. :) Well I’m hoping to make that change now!

So, the bus journey to Siam Reap was surprisingly smooth sailing. I sat next to a friendly Israeli girl, read the first few chapters of my book on the Cambodian genocide by Luong Ung, First They Killed My Father, and fell asleep around 10pm. Although the bus was pretty cramped quarters, too strongly air-conditioned and my seat didn’t lean back all the way, I opened my eyes and it was time to get off the bus. (Love when that happens!) After waiting around a coffee shop for an hour (gotta love Thai time when it’s normal for things to run an hour late—it’s nothing compared to Fiji time! :)), a van picked up me and 6 other travelers. Three young guys were completely obnoxious Brits who passed out right away because they’d stayed up all night partying, so I didn’t speak to anyone at first and fell asleep till our 11am break.

For the rest of the journey to the border, I dug my nose in my book, enjoying how it’s okay to occasionally be antisocial as a solo-traveler. I had heard some stories about the Cambodian genocide, but seeing as it only happened 35 years ago, I really didn’t think it was appropriate to enter the country without being well-informed on the subject. We got to the border at around 2pm, where we were asked to fill out visa paperwork and pay a $30 fee, so I finally decided to make conversation with the three non-hung-over passengers. Sebastian was from Chile, so I spoke to him in Spanish first, and then chatted with the two young sisters he’d bonded with earlier in the van, Rachael and Robin from London. After several drawn-out speeches from our bus-driver, we realized that the border-crossing would be somewhat lengthy, and potentially scam-ridden. Although we’d already paid about 30 bucks to go all the way to Siam Reap, they told us that the bus from the border would take 5 hours, whereas a taxi would take two hours. So we decided to pay an extra $10 and become a foursome for a taxi… and that was just the beginning of all the scams we experienced for a mere 3 days in Cambodia.

People who know me will confirm that I hate to speak negatively or talk down on people, and I always try to see the beauty in everyone. So it’s challenging for me to write about how difficult my experiences with Cambodians were, just like it was challenging for me to accept it at the time. I’m 100% sure that if I’d gone as a volunteer with an organization, or had a local contact who could introduce me to folks outside of the tourist sector, my experience would have been completely different. And I also completely acknowledge that given the country’s devastating history, social structure and economy, it makes perfect sense that the tourist industry would provide the only means of eking out a living for many, so they would do whatever they can to get our dollars (and I mean dollars—the Riel is worth very little, so even ATM machines spit out US dollars). After all, from 1975-1979—through execution, starvation, disease, and forced labor—the Khmer Rouge systematically killed an estimated two million Cambodians, almost a fourth of the country’s population. So I understand why they try to get as much as they can from tourists, and view us as dollar signs instead of people. But despite my compassion for Cambodia’s situation, the constant begging, negotiating, and arguing for more money was still really depressing.

As it was, I was lucky to be with Sebastian, Rachael and Robin, because we looked after each other and together were able to avoid all the scams thrown our way, especially compared to the terrible stories I heard from other travelers later on. I heard one story of a child literally kneeling down and bowing over and over to an American in public, as though he were praying to Mecca, until the tourist felt so bad that he gave him a few dollars just to leave. And my amazing hippie friend from Santa Fe, Lisa, who I met on the bus back to Bangkok, told me that she had originally planned to stay for several weeks or even months in Cambodia, but changed her mind after just a few days in Siam Reap. Lisa has been traveling for over 3 years with just a backpack, so she never buys souvenirs just because she couldn’t carry the extra weight. A little girl shouted, “You bad tourist! You buy nothing! I want you to leave my country!” So Lisa calmly looked at her in her zen-like way, and nodded. “Okay. I will.”

Our scamming experiences started mildly enough. Our taxi stopped at a roadside stand to “wash the car,” even though no one washed it, and we were made to wait for a half hour around snacks that were priced at four times more than what we paid in Thailand, until we continued on. Then they told us that the hostel I wanted to see in my guide book wasn’t good, and stopped at a different hostel and forcefully told us how good it was until we just decided to stay. I shared a $10 room with Sebastian, and the girls stayed across from us, so it seemed fine. We then took a tuk-tuk to see Ankgor Wat at sunset, which was really beautiful; we walked around and took pictures for around two hours, and Sebastian and I talked about how spiritual the place felt despite being a religion we weren’t familiar with. That night the four of us went out to dinner, and after getting to know each other we realized we all have silly, sarcastic senses of humor. It was a really fun night!

The next day, we woke up at the ungodly hour of 5am to leave for a 6am sunrise. I unfortunately realized at the entrance to the park that I’d left my 3-day ticket purchased the previous day at the hostel, and the tuk-tuk driver was so mad that he yelled at me practically the whole way home. Sebastian was cool about it, and we covertly talked about it in Spanish so the driver wouldn’t get even more upset. When we finally got into the site, the whole day at Ankgor Wat was really beautiful, walking around the ancient temples and taking hundreds of pictures. I was taken right back to my art history days, admiring the bas reliefs that reminded me of a mixture of Egyptian hieroglyphics and 12-13th century European battle scene paintings, where an army is depicted by showing a horse with 8 pairs of legs drawn behind him. Exhausted at around 10am, we began to get really silly, taking pictures in risqué poses despite the shocked Asian tourists around us. We finally got lunch at 12 noon, and then visited the “jungle” temple, which is the site of the Angelina Jolie’s Tomb Raider movie. (By the way, I understand now why she adopted a Cambodian baby, considering all the poverty she must have similarly been faced with while filming the movie!) With immense, twisting trees growing through and seemingly one with the rocks, it was by far my favorite temple that I saw. I took tons of pictures, but was ready to leave by 2pm because the sun was so intense.

Back at the hostel, my tuk-tuk driver asked me if I wanted him to drive me the following day, since Sebastian, Rachael and Robin were leaving and I wanted to visit more temples. He quoted me the same price of $20, and since I’d read in my guide book that I could take a moto (motorcycle) for $10, and he hadn’t been nice that morning, I said that I would go with someone else. His whole demeanor again changed, like it had that morning, and he began to straight-up yell at me. “You no give me job, even though I nice and take you back this morning! It not my fault—it your fault! You have no heart!” All I could do was stand up and walk away. 10 minutes later, another young man came up to me where I was checking my internet, and said he’d drive me on his motorcycle for $10. He said his name was Noi like “noise,” and he had a round friendly face, so I said sure, hoping that I wouldn’t be disappointed with him like I had with the other driver.

Then, the hotel staff turned on us. Sebastian and I were in our room with the A/C on because the previous night with just the fan had been too hot and uncomfortable. Sebastian was trying to sleep and I was quietly sobbing while reading a chapter in which a young girl in the main character’s work camp is raped by the soldiers, when we got a loud knock on the door. All of a sudden the hostel staff barged in, and yelled at us that we owed them $5 for the A/C. Sebastian had literally just paid the previous receptionist, so he slowly explained it to them. They argued with him for about 10 minutes! Then they left to check their records, and 15 minutes later they came back to argue with him again! I couldn’t believe that this went on over the span of an hour, them coming and going probably four different times. When they finally left for good, Sebastian started saying how he didn’t like Cambodians, and I lectured him about how you can’t make sweeping generalizations about a whole group of people, based on just a few days in a tourist capitol. But I was still really disappointed that enough minor scams had happened that Sebastian had decided that he never wanted to come back.

Since it was our last night together, Rachael, Sebastian and I went out dancing that night, while Robin stayed home because she felt sick. Again we took tons of funny pictures, and promised to all show up on Sebastian’s doorstep in Santiago in a few months. I really hope I get to see them all again, since they were incredibly fun, funny people!

The next morning I jumped on the back of Noi’s moto at 9am, and we cruised around the different temples near the back of the park. It was pretty much the same types of temples I’d seen the previous day, and I probably should have paid for a guide to properly understand the historical and architectural significance of everything. But, I enjoyed the time to myself, and intermittently wrote in my journal and read throughout the day when I wasn’t being chased by children asking for dollars. In the afternoon I skipped lunch because my book was describing how the main character’s older sister died of dysentery in a work camp, and returned to my hostel at 2pm to just finish the last 50 pages. All in all it was beautifully written and I’m glad that I read it, especially because I now want to learn more about what I can do to help out the people in Cambodia. I’m considering talking to my colleagues who work on family planning issues there if they need any support, but if anyone reading this has any other ideas, please let me know!

The next morning before being picked up for my final half-day moto bike to the temples was when I finally lost it, and to be honest that was the day that I’ve felt the most unsafe during my whole trip. I was briefly checking my internet when the receptionist told me that I owed them an extra $5 for A/C. I told him that I’d already paid for it in the price they’d quoted me the previous day, and he again said no, that I owed them an extra $5. Instead of argue, I smiled and flat-out said I wouldn’t pay it. Then he sicked the hotel manager on me, a small shouting woman! “You pay me my money! You use A/C, you pay me my money or else!” Noi showed up, so I got up to leave with him. But by this point, I was so upset I couldn’t hold it in. I looked at the receptionist with tears in my eyes, and with a cracked voice said “why do you treat tourists this way? People won’t want to come back when you treat them this way. By doing this you’re hurting your economy, and your country.” He shrugged with a half smile. Not sure that he understood me, all I could do was wipe my tears and leave with Noi.

On the moto, we cruised at probably 40 miles per hour down for 20 minutes to the distant temples, and all these images flashed through my head. I pictured the hostel staff breaking into my room to steal my stuff and make up for the measly $5 that I refused to pay on principle. I pictured Noi’s bike hitting a rut in the road the wrong way, and my helmetless-head hitting the pavement. And it was the weirdest sensation, because I loved the speed and strength and excitement of the bike, but I realized how valuable my head is, like precious cargo. I have so much invested in my head in the way of education, dreams and ambitions, and it would be such a tragic waste to lose someone like me on this earth, who really wants to make it a better place. So when we stopped the bike, I told Noi to go slower next time, and to call the hostel and tell them I’ll pay the extra $5, no problem.

Back at the hostel, Noi dropped me off and acted really upset that I only gave him a $5 tip, so I lost faith in the one person who I thought had been friendly to me. The receptionist was happy to get the matter resolved, and he told me that I’m a nice person. I said, “well you’re the nicest person I’ve met here, so thank you.” He smiled, and asked to go to my room with me. I thought it was to fix the A/C or something, but instead he pointed to the laundry I’d just paid for the hotel to wash. “That shirt you have—I like it. Can I have?” I looked at him and frowned, having lost faith in yet another person who I thought had been friendly. “No, I’m sorry.”

All in all, I spent around $300 for 3 days in Cambodia, which makes it the most expensive country per-day that I’ve visited. I hope I didn’t paint too bleak of a picture for people to want to visit; I hope to go back some day if I’m ever working in Southeast Asia for an NGO, and would consider working there since the problems are so dire. However, I wouldn’t recommend going as a tourist without a plan.

In the van back to Bangkok that afternoon, I met Lisa from Santa Fe, an amazing woman who at age 43 has been traveling the world for over 3 years. We realized that we’re both Aries signs, we were both in Santa Fe at the same time last May, we would have been at Burning Man together had I gone as planned in August, and we have tattoos on our ankles of the earth within a circular shape—hers within a sun and mine within a flower—so we totally bonded as “soul sistahs.” :) When we caught an actual bus at the border, we bonded with a good-looking 26-year-old Spanish guy named Merc, and the three of us ended up sharing a hostel near Khao San Road. The next day was my last day in Bangkok since my flight left at midnight, and Lisa spoiled me with kindness. She told the hostel staff I was her daughter so that I could keep my backpack in her room and lounge with her by the pool. We talked about love and relationships a ton, and she told me a great quote to remember her by: “People say you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince. But I say that just makes you acquire a taste for frogs!” :) Then she took me shopping for the last items I wanted to buy, treated me to dinner and a drink with her other sweet friend Copper who happened to be in town, and gave me a dress as a gift because she said it looked better on me than on her. She even helped me buy my shuttle ticket to the airport and helped me carry my backpack to catch it in the right place. She was so wonderful, and I really hope I get to meet her again some day—and it wouldn’t be bad to meet her son either, who’s incredibly cute from the photo she showed me, haha. :)

So, that’s it for my adventure with cool fellow-travelers and not-so-cool Cambodians. I really miss Southeast Asia, especially the food and easy transit to beautiful places, but I’m sure that I’ll return—hopefully sooner than later!

Welcome to the Jungle

When planning my two weeks in Thailand, people advised me that I had two options: either head south to the relaxing beaches, or north to trek among the jungle's hill tribe villages. Similarly to my other travel-planning decisions, the only deterring factor I really considered was the possibility of encountering snakes in wild jungles... so I have to sheepishly admit that from the get-go, I was hesitant about the north. However, thank goodness that I was emboldened by my fellow travelers to go for it and jungle-trek, since I'm a bit "beached out" after Fiji and Australia (if that's even a possibility). So, I'm now in Northern Thailand in the second largest city of Chiang Mai, and I couldn't be happier about my decision! Plus, I figure I can always come back to Thailand to explore the southern beaches some day. :)

I was promised a more relaxed atmosphere, cheaper prices and a wealth of diverse activities in Chiang Mai, and it certainly didn't disappoint! After arriving at my Little Bird Hostel on Thursday and meeting up with my English friend Rosie, I wandered down random streets to find a spicy soup and rice lunch from people who didn't speak a word of English. $0.90 later, I found myself in my spicy-food-induced "Cassie happy place," which has seemed to be the major theme of my Thailand adventure so far. :) There was this crazy "Asian Idol" TV show on in the outdoor patio area where I was eating with the locals, and I played for about 20 minutes with a little Thai boy, imitating the singers to make each other laugh, to his parents' amusement-- it was really sweet. Then, I visited a beauty shop for a quick $1.25 eyebrow wax, and was a bit startled when the mother of the 14 year-old girl who was treating me began to take photos of us. I didn't think anything of it, until at the end I realized that the girl had 6 fingers on each hand! I was seriously impressed at her dexterity since she'd handled the hot wax with no problem, but even more so at Thai culture which deams it totally acceptable for a 12-fingered person to touch faces for a living. Go Thailand! :) (Did I mention I love Thailand?)

Back at my hostel, Rosie and I met up with 3 Australian girls and a German guy named Daniel to take a sawngthaew-- basically an enclosed, open-reared truck with benches in the back that serves as a public taxi-- toward the night market for dinner. After a delightful meal of dumplings, pizza, beer, laughter and a few geckos crawling on my friend's leg (AHH), we split ways to check out the market. 3 hours, a backpack full of clothes and jewelry, and $120 later, I finally detached myself from the hundreds of souveniers and food stalls to tuk-tuk home, where I finally met up with my long-lost dinner gang. I was relieved to find that I wasn't the only one who had gone a little crazy and spent too much, and we had a show-and-tell session of our wares, taking turns lamenting what we'd bought and validating how great each item was, before hitting the hay.

The next day-- Friday-- was pretty lax, as Rosie and I made our travel plans for our trekking adventure into the northern jungles and took a day trip to the temples of Doi Suthep. It's a short sangthaew ride to the western mountains of the city, and the temples comprise the holiest shrine in northern Thailand. The whole place was beautiful, holy, and similar to the Grand Palace, except that you had to climb 5 flights of serpent-lined stairs to see it. We met (another) really nice German guy named Daniel who accompanied us back to our hostel, and later met up with us for dinner at the Night Market. We feasted on Tom Yum soup, pineapple fried rice served in a pineapple, fish and shrimp cakes, chicken satay and veggie spring rolls... again, I couldn't have been happier. We then perused the night market a second time, where the Europeans constantly teased me for my second bout of American consumerism. All I can say is-- oh well! I've been skrimping for 6 weeks and looking forward to this, and I'm happy with what I've bought, so no regrets, right? ;)

The next morning was Saturday, and I finally got on a bus to go on my jungle trek! As I mentioned, these are a big deal in Chiang Mai, and I had chosen a 3-day, 2-night trek which included 4 hours of hiking per day, locally-prepared meals, staying with villagers in bamboo huts, an elephant ride and white-water-river-rafting, all for a meager $60. Right away I hit it off with a few folks in my van-- 20-somethings James from London, and Lucie and her new husband Menu from southern France. James cracked me up when he said he'd looked into buying an Indiana Jones hat for the trek, and how he had the soundtrack stuck in his head (it never really got out of our heads after that). Much to my dismay, my new friends were doing a 2-day trek, and the 3-day trek group was made up of a family of 13 French-only speakers who barely acknowledged my presence. Lucie convinced me that I should go ahead and switch groups, and it worked out much better!

The two days felt like a week, as we trekked through the jungle with our tour guide Jo. We'd walk through the green jungle for hours on end, stopping occasionally to learn about the medicinal uses of endemic plants, explore bat caves, or tenuously cross a stream on a bridge built of vines and branches. That night we slept in a bamboo hut and hung out by the campfire telling stories and singing the drinking songs of our respective countries (I sang "El Rey", to show my honorary Mexican pride). :)

The next day was more action-packed, with tons of different activities lined up. It began with an hour-long walk to a waterfall, which was my favorite part of the trek, since we were able to jump from a rock into a natural pool thirty feet below! It was really exhilirating, and every bit as good as bungee jumping. Then after another short walk, I got to ride an elephant! Two other people were perched on a little platform on his back, but I actually straddled its neck and grasped onto some ropes in a struggle not to fall off. I'd actually ridden an elephant before at the Orange County Fair when I was little, but this was a completely different experience. The elephant trainers carried long hooked sticks which they prodded into the elephants' backs and chests in order to get them to move, and though you could tell that the elephants were used to this and were decently taken care of, I felt really bad for them. I grasped the most tender part of the elephant that I could-- the gentle folds behind their ears-- and I know this sounds really corny, but I tried to send it love. It felt really peaceful, and brought me right back to making eye-contact with dolphins in New Zealand, and again I startled myself at how much I love communing with animals and nature during my trip.

Later on in the afternoon, though our group was tired and ready for a shower, we got to go river-rafting and bamboo rafting. Like our other activities, it felt pretty inauthentic and touristy, but was fun nevertheless. My boat was comprised of James from London and two Canadian girls, so we knick-named ourselves "Canengus" (despite the fact that it sounds like an STI), and cheered ourselves on as we competitively paddled down the rapids, splashing and passing nearby boats along the way. We had a great time! A few hours later, back in Chiang Mai, I met up with James, Lucie and Manu for dinner. We'd hoped to find a karoake place, since we'd been singing Indiana Jones- and jungle-related music during our whole adventure, but settled for Bob Marley and had a fun last night out together.

Today's my last day in Chiang Mai, and it's been so relaxing that I'm again glad that I chose the two-day trek instead of three days of trying to learn French. I got a pedicure and massage in the morning, checked out local shops, and ate delicious fried chicken from the street. In a few hours I'll catch a 6pm bus back to Bangkok, and then a 7am bus to Siam Reap, Cambodia, site of the ancient Ankgor Wat temples! All in all it will be a 24-hour ride, but at least I have my new book about the Cambodian genocide, First They Killed My Father by Luong Ung, to keep me company. I'm sad to leave Northern Thailand, but I'm committed to coming back... and next time I want to rent a motorcycle to get away from all the tourists! And hey... it'll totally go well with my killer tattoo. ;) Wish me luck in Cambodia!

I. Love. Thailand. Did I mention I LOVE Thailand?

It finally happened. I've fallen in love. No, it wasn't a sexy foreign accent, an adventurous adrenalin-ridden situation, or even awesome travel clothes that parallel my own... mostly it was the delicious, spicy street food that did the trick. I guess that means that the way to my heart is through my stomach? Well at any rate, Thailand has won me over... and I'm ready to move here the next chance I get!

It's crazy that before I even came, I knew I would love it here. Originally I had hoped to travel throughout Southeast Asia for five weeks and see a good chunk of Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam, however my plans changed when I was offered a generous six-week internship in Ethiopia that I couldn't refuse. Even when touring through New Zealand on busses, I was day-dreaming about the sights, sounds and smells of Asia, lamenting the fact that I'm only here for an embarrassingly short two weeks. But while I've tried to make the most out of my time here by spending quality time in the two major cities of Bangkok and Chiang Mai, I've also resolved to come back as soon as possible. I didn't think it was possible, but I feel strangely connected to the land and culture here, almost to the same extent that I do toward all things Latino. It feels like coming home.

In some ways, it makes sense, since I've worked for the past three years on sustainable development and global health issues that primarily concern the developing world. So although I haven't spent too much time in developing countries, my mind and heart have been here for some time-- in the genuine wide smiles of the women, the bustling cities expanding with people who are coming to look for better opportunities, and the verdant jungles full of creepy crawly but important diverse species. And what's really beautiful is that while I was blissful in Fiji, New Zealand and Australia, my happiness here is on a completely different, profound level that is connected to my purpose in the world and in life. Which makes me REALLY curious about how I will feel during my two months in Africa!

My arrival in Bangkok last Monday at midnight reflects how important perspective and attitude are for shaping people's experiences while traveling. Many fellow travelers told me that they hate how busy, polluted and humid the capital city is, but the second I arrived, I LOVED it! The sticky humidity was a welcome change from Australia's dry heat, and the $2.50 half-hour taxi ride from the airport to my hostel with some fellow backpackers wasn't bad either. But the real treat was getting to famous Khaosan Road at 2am and instantly feeling comfortable and at one with the lively night scene-- street stalls overflowing with pad thai, mango sticky rice and noodle soups; foreigners in baggy multi-colored pants bartering and laughing with locals; and every type of music and flavor in the air that you can imagine. I checked into my first hostel for an expensive $20 a night, and the room was so nice that it reminded me of my first private hotel experience in Spain which cost $200. With its own bathroom, TV, mini-fridge, couch and love-seat, and blasting A/C, it was complete luxury! The next day I moved over to the more moderate At Home Guest House for $7 a night, which still afforded me my own clean room, along with super friendly and helpful staff.

That Tuesday was when my love affair with Thailand truly began. I befriended a sweet 18 year-old girl named Rosie from the south of England, and we decided to be "Bangkok Buddies." We challenged ourselves to use every means of transport possible to explore the city, and pretty much accomplished our goal! We took a tuk-tuk (motorcycle with a cart behind it) to Chinatown, still bustling from their New Year festivities, and sat with the locals for a divine lunch of spicy noodle soup for less than $1. I nearly cried, it was that good. We then walked west to the canal, and took a boat to the southern-most port for about $0.30, reveling in the golden-tiered temples lining the water along the way. I didn't know this, but apparently Bangkok is called the "Venice of the East" for its canal water-ways. I guess they're similar in that they both smell slightly of garbage and involve quick water transportation, but yeah, Venice is somehow slightly more romantic in my opinion, no offense to Bangkok. ;)

We then caught the sky-train from where we were at the Central Pier all the way East to the Asok station, a 30-minute ride across the city for about $1.10, so that we could walk to my Southeast Asian holy grail-- a classy Thai restaurant called Cabbages and Condoms. I was amazed that Rosie had previously heard about it as a popular tourist destination, since I had long heard about it through my job with Sierra Club. It's run by the Population and Community Development Association (PDA), and proceeds go to helping the organization do similar work to what I advocated for with the Sierra Club-- promote better understanding and acceptance of family planning. The project is frequently touted as a success story within our field, and I was astounded to see how clearly famous it is within Bangkok among locals and tourists alike. I loved how the entire restaurant was adorned with condom decorations, and couldn't believe that instead of a wet-wipe or mint at the end of our meal, they brought us condoms. Yay Thailand!

My perfect day was topped off with one of my favorite moments in Thailand so far, of talking with a Thai woman named Jo during our bus-ride on the way home. With short spikey hair, a studded upper earing, a wide smile and perfect English, she was the quintessential modern young Thai woman. She works for the UN as a graphic designer, and when I said that I was super impressed, she nodded humbly. "Yes, I love my job because I can make a difference for Thai people, but it isn't ideal for moving ahead within my career. But at least I have lots of international connections!" We laughed about how we have similar travel preferences, since she wants to move to India for a short while for the food, just like I want to move to Thailand for the food. :) But ultimately we both want to return home, because we love our countries. I told her that in my limited experience it seems like women have many rights in Thailand, and she agreed. "We do have rights-- and not only that, but we believe in our minds that we're equal to men. But, culture and religion are still very important." She told me a story about how it's important in Thai culture for the monk's head to be higher than others, and how sometimes, a man's head is equal to the monk's but higher than women's. She thinks this is very important, however she had a Canadian female friend who did not agree, and wanted her head to be the same height as everyone's. Jo chose not to speak to her friend for some time, because she found it so deeply disrespectful, and I could see as her face contorted in telling me the story how this had been a painful decision for her. However, Jo ultimately forgave her friend because she didn't know better, and her friend conceded that in the future she would respect Thai peoples' cultural and religious differences. Although it was a short conversation, I was really grateful for the brief window into Jo's world... I really hope she achieves her dream of living in another country for a short while to work for another UN branch, before returning to her country that she loves.

The next day was Wednesday, and after a delicious veggie curry breakfast, I cut out to explore the city on my own. I began by walking a short 15 minutes from Khaosan Road to the Grand Palace, the most ornate building I've ever seen. I had to rent a shirt to cover my scandalously-clad shoulders (shame on me!), but once inside I forgot about the sticky humidity as I reflected on the gold designs in every direction, bas reliefs of the Ramayana, and the multiple Buddha images. There were so many Buddhas that I actually didn't know which was the "official" one, until I stumbled upon him-- a jade seated Buddha which was stunning but small, similarly to how small the Sistine Chapel or the Mona Lisa seem after all the hype. I said a quick prayer of thanks, dabbed my head with a wet Lotus flower along with the crowd of smiling and laughing Asian tourists, and left to catch a taxi toward the other side of town.

Once in the fancy hotel district, I met with Annie Wallace, the USAID Global Health Fellow who has been providing technical assistance to CIPHE- Ethopia over the past year, whose house I would be staying in, in Addis Ababa. She was currently living in Bangkok to have her second baby, a boy named Finn, since the hospital conditions were better and safer than in Ethiopia. Apparently, her hospital was like a 5-star hotel, and amounted to about the same cost she would have had in the U.S., which I found really interesting. Over our hour-long meeting, her resounding message of advice to me for my internship was to "learn how to SAY NO when Negash, your internship supervisor, asks you to do everything under the sun." Although she kept apologizing for overwhelming me with information, I have to admit I became pretty nervous about the task ahead of me! But given the fact that I will only be working with CIPHE for 6 weeks, I'm pretty confident that I'll be able to roll up my shirt-sleaves and work hard for the issues I'm passionate about.

That night I laxidasically walked a good 45 minutes back to my guest house, taking in the urban sites and smells with no tourists in site. It felt good to be the lone white girl on the streets of Bangkok, adorned with my water bottle and action sandals, smiling at curious on-lookers and avoiding sketchy-looking puddles. I took another water taxi to Wat Arun, named Bangkok's most distinctive landmark in my Rough Guide, which was certainly as grand and pyramid-shaped as the description implied. Since I missed the sunset and the mosquitos were more annoying near the water, I taxied back to Khaosan Road for another spicy soup and pad thai dinner. After packing up my stuff and conversing with the restaurant staff who now regarded me as a local, I took a taxi at 9:30pm to the train station for a 10pm night train to Chiang Mai. I have to say that it was the most fun and comfortable train ride I've ever been on! I was fortunate to have a bed on the bottom-bunk at the end of a cart, and chatted with some friendly Israeli girls until the train's rhythm lulled me to sleep. This morning I arrived at the Little Bird Guest House in Chiang Mai, where I'm currently writing this from. So far I've just seen a little bit of the city, but I have to say: I. Still. Love. Thailand.

Will write more soon! :)

Making the most of my week's vacation in OZ

When I flew in from Christchurch, NZ to Sydney, Australia (OZ) last Monday, I didn't have a plan or a guidebook. (Now's when you gasp in disbelief) When I lived in Spain for a year, my friends affectionately knick-named me the Map Nazi, or Map Queen, depending on how effective I was at getting us lost or found. It's a big step for me to be flexible during my 8-month-trip, and I'm psyched that my open-mindedness paid off big in OZ. After 2 mediocre days in Sydney, I decided to bus 12 hours to Melbourne, and am in love with the city!

I'm not knocking Sydney, nor the great time I ended up having with my new friends Alex (Alejandra) from LA and Mathias from Germany, respectively. But it just wasn't my cup of tea. Or I guess you could say it wasn't my vegemite sandwhich. :) I arrived at my 790 on George Hostel late Monday night and loved the lcoation and friendly staff, but crashed due to the 3 hour flight. Tuesday I woke up at 8am and went for a long 2-3 hour run in which I essentially saw all the sights-- the ANZAC Memorial to WWII soldiers, the Royal Botanic Gardens, a beautiful running trail along the harbor, the Sydney Opera House, the Harbor Bridge, the Circular Quay docks and the Central City. I have to say my favorite part, and the only time when I actually felt that I was in Sydney, was the Opera House. I'm currently reading a hysterical book about Australia called Down Under by Bill Bryson, and I couldn't stop thinking about his passage on the Opera House when I saw it for the first time:

It is the Opera House that gets all the attention (in Sydney), and you can understand why. It's so startlingly familiar, so hey-I'm-in-Sydney, that you can't stop looking at it. Clive James once likened the Opera House to 'a portable typewriter full of oyster shells', which is perhaps a tad severe. In any case, the Opera House is not about aesthetics. It's about being an icon (p. 83).

After snapping a few photos, I spent the rest of my lazy day similarly to my first day in Auckland-- getting oriented to the city. I traded in my NZ guidebook for an OZ book (here's where you sigh in relief), shopped for groceries, clothes and a replacement camera cord since I lost mine in NZ, and hatched out my OZ plan for hitting up the local beaches with my new friends, who I planned on meeting the next day.

Growing up as a So Cal beach bum, and after my unbeatable Fiji beach time, I wasn't completely psyched for Aussie beaches. My skin's already adequately brown for my tastes, and I'm much more interested in cultural and environmental aspects of world travel than increasing my chances for skin cancer. Mostly I really like the names of Aussie beaches-- Bondi, Coogee, and my personal favorite, Manly, where I was psyched about seeing manly bars, manly shops, and let's face it, manly men. ;) So that night before dozing off, I realized-- what I really want to see in Australia next time is Melbourne, the artsy/cultural capital of OZ, and the Great Barrier Reef. Since the Reef was out of the question-- not only is now the rainy season in Cairnes, but it's a $300 flight away-- that's when I decided that I should just go to Melbourne NOW! Who knows when I'm coming back, and I might as well make the most of my short week here and just GO!

Enboldened by a new sense of the adventure that was to come, I actually enjoyed my remaining day and a half in Sydney much more while I expectantly waited for Melbourne, and an opportunity to see a teensier bit more of the ginormous continent. Wednesday Alex and Mathias and I took the ferry to Manly and enjoyed a beautiful sunny day. Although there were many manly men to oggle at, my favorite part was when we'd just lied down on our sarongs, and an Aussie voice boomed out to us over the loudspeaker: "ATTENTION beach-goers! A HUGE number of blue-bottle jellyfish are in the water! If you get stung, you will be in SUPREME AGONY for 45 minutes to 1 hour! Swim at your own risk, but we ADVISE that you get out of the water!" I pretty much hugged my sarong for the next few hours, only once tip-toing down to the surf to check out the blue-bottles, meanwhile virtually every Aussie in the water continued to frolick, swim and surf. You gotta love freakin' Australia!

That night we stuffed ourselves on an all-you-can-eat $5 buffet, before going out on the town, first to our hostel bar for a "flourescent party" of $3.50 beers, and then the seedy Kings Cross area for dancing and fantastic people-watching. Alex and Mathias were HILARIOUS to dance and goof around with-- it was a blast! I'll keep it at that since this is a public site, and besides I don't remember that much, haha. :)

Thursday we rolled out of the city at 1pm to Bondi Beach, where again the people-watching made the journey totally worth it. Pardon my generalizations, but I decided that Aussie women are gorgeous in a So Cal way-- tan, blonde and strikingly similar to melting plastic in the sun. Meanwhile, Aussie guys have the rock-hard surfer body thing going for them, but their stunned facial expressions just crack me up, like they've been smashed against the surf too hard a few too many times. Not unlike Venice beach! :) We left at around 5pm so I could catch my bus to Melbourne, and took a final "LA Represent!" photo to commemorate our few days of friendship. Hopefully we'll meet up at the Brass Monkey Bar in Koreatown when Alex and I will be back in September and Mathias comes out to visit!

Fortunately, I was able to sleep on the bus to Melbourne, which drove from 7pm to 7am. After splashing some water on my face and brushing my teeth in the train station bathroom, I was ready to hit the town! Again I was glad to not have a plan, since I walked to the cheapest hostel in town and scored free breakfast. Then I hit up the Queen Victoria Market-- the best and biggest outdoor market in the Southern Hemisphere! They had an amazing array of souveniers, clothes, fruits and veg, and I had to seriously restrain myself from all the cute dresses, meditating on all the cheap clothes I can't wait to stuff my bag with in Thailand. $5 and 5 pounds of apples, veg and sweet juicy delicious mangos later, I decided to explore the city.

Apparently just this week, Melbourne was voted the third most liveable city in the world after Vancouver and Vienna, and although I don't know why they picked such cold cities, I can totally see why Melbourne was at the top of the list! I've been to lots of big international cities-- Paris, Rome, London and Athens-- but none compare to how easy it is for a newcomer to get to know Melbourne. They have both a free circular tram and a hop-on-hop-off tourist shuttle that goes through the whole city, plus free informational booths on nearly every corner. I got to see quite a bit of the city's European and modern architecture on the bus, before jumping off at the National Gallery of Victoria-- the best museum in the Southern Hemisphere, I guess measured in how many billions of dollars its collection is worth. Like the huge nerd I am, I signed up for a free 2pm guided tour, and despite being the only one, my Melbourne-born-and-raised guide Jan speedily zoomed me around and told me terrific stories of the museum's best pieces. Again like the huge nerd I am, I loved it!

After that, I strolled around the rest of the city, booked a tour for the next day in an attempt to see even more of OZ, and ended up in the Fitzroy suburb on Brunswick Street, Bohemian capital of Melbourne. The atmosphere felt just like Haight street or Berkeley in San Francisco, with tons of funky clothes shops and cafes. I really dug it! So much so that I decided if I ever have the opportunity to live in OZ, I'd pick the Brunswick area in Melbourne, hands-down. Granted, I haven't seen much of OZ to make that as an informed decision... but it would at least be an excellent base camp from which to explore the vast continent!

That night I again crashed after such a long day of walking around, and awoke at 10am Saturday for my day-trip out to The Great Ocean Road. It basically consisted of driving out on a beautiful coastal road along the South of Australia for 10 hours, stopping every 15-30 minutes for scenic views and bushwalks. Apparently it's the most beautiful drive in OZ, and although it was a wonderful sunny day, I have to say that I found it just okay. It felt identical to driving the 101 freeway in Cali, with the exception that the water I was looking at stretched to Antartica instead of Hawaii, which I admit is pretty sweet. But frankly, the scenic beauty of OZ doesn't stand a chance compared to other-worldly NZ, at least in my opinion. For those reading this who wish to go to OZ, I definitely recommend Melbourne, but you should probably save your "scenic day trips" for the Great Barrier Reef as opposed to that part of the south, unless you have loads of time and a car to drive it yourself. At least, that's what I plan on doing the next time I'm down under.

That being said, my all-time-FAVORITE moment in OZ happened along the Great Ocean Road, when we stopped in a eucalyptus tree area and I found myself arms-length from the most adorable cuddly wild animal I've ever seen-- a koala! He was awake, which was amazing because they sleep 20 hours a day, and perched on an extremely low branch perfect for picture-taking. He looked at us with a sleepy expression while I madly snapped photos and cooed at him, before climbing up a bit farther up and lazily eating more eucalyptus leaves. He was HUGE compared to what I expected-- probably two feet tall as opposed to the one foot tall ones I've seen in the zoo-- apparently because it gets so cold in the south that they need to pack on extra weight and fur. I thanked my lucky stars that of all the crazy deadly animals I could have seen in OZ, I saw the cutest and least harmful one! Maybe now I'll have more courage to explore the Outback next time I'm here... though it's still doubtful. :)

The rest of the drive and the sunset at the Twelve Apostles rock formation was great, but I most enjoyed talking to our Aussie driver Clancy who is by far the best-travleed person I've ever met. She told me incredible stories of overland trekking in Eastern Africa, Nepal and India (where she met her current boyfriend), and hopefully we'll meet up when she makes it to LA, literally the only place she hasn't been, haha. I really don't blame her, to be honest. ;)

Today I'm checking out the St. Kilda music and arts festival in a southern suburb, before catching my 7pm overnight bus back to Sydney. I can't believe that I'll fly to Thailand tomorrow evening to begin my adventure in developing countries, where I'll be for the remaining of my trip. I'm so excited for tasty food and cheap clothes, and most importantly, I can't wait to be "the other" in terms of my skin color, language and culture. The past 6 weeks have been happy and beautiful, but they've essentially been a vacation. And in case you haven't noticed, ultimately I'm a nerd who is traveling to learn about the world, its amazing people and myself. I don't doubt that the next 6 1/2 months will be challenging, but I believe that only challenge and conflict lead to personal and spiritual growth. So here's to Thailand and developing countries! I can't wait! :)

Found my bliss, beauty, love and acceptance in New Zealand

In light of my "happy" blog from Fiji, I thought it would be fun to end my time in each country by writing about what I discovered about myself while there. These words might sound really familiar in case you've been keeping up with my New Zealand blogs, which is why I'll start off with where I last off in Kaikoura, swimming with dolphins, since that pretty much sums up everything that I loved about New Zealand. :)

Arriving in Kaikoura, I had seriously high expectations for the little east coast town, and I'm happy to say that it fully surpassed all of them. That may be because I've been a dolphin/whale fanatic my whole life, and Kaikoura is the sea mammal capital of New Zealand. As a kid, I collected whale figurines, wrote an epic whale poem, went whale-watching for every birthday that I could, and even managed to adopt a humpback whale named "Salt," whatever that means. ;) I loved them because they're the biggest animal, and somehow I equated that with the best. So when I learned that I could not only see whales from the shore, but also swim with dolphins in Kaikoura, I knew I had to save the best thing for last on my NZ trip.

After I checked into the adorable Dolphin Lodge at around 3pm, a semi-annoying Belgian girl named Nena and I set out to walk to a look-out point offering views of the wholecoastline. It was a sunny day with blue skies, and we could plainly see all of the surrounding snow-capped mountains. Gorgeous! While I was busy taking panoramic photos, Nena exclaimed that in the distant water she saw a whale, and totally redeemed herself! :) We waited with our eyes pinned to the south bay spot which a nearby topographical map indicated was named "Whalers Point," and we saw a speck of white water spout up which must have been the size of a boat! Sure enough 2 nearby boats raced toward it, and we were able to make out cameras flashing from the boats. Of course we didn't see any tails or fins, but we were really excited to have seen one without paying the $145 whale-watching fee!

After that we parted ways, and I walked across the Peninsula on the south bay track to where we'd seen the whale. By that time the whale-watching boat had just docked, and it was too difficult to see 10 miles out from the shore-line. Undaunted, I continued ambling along the Peninsula Walkway, thoroughly enjoying the colorful views, informational panels on whales, and occasional seal colonies. I find when traveling that I need 1-2 days per week of solo time to recharge my batteries, and this sparsely used walkway was the perfect place to do it! I reached the top of the peninsula right when the sun was setting, transforming the sky into an orangey pink and illuminating the water with a spectrum of colors from dark blue to purple, red, orange, green and turquoise. At that moment I had to sit and journal, reflecting on how inspired by natural beauty I've been during this trip. It was so blissful, I considered meditating like I'd been taught while WWOOFING. But, it was getting dark and I still had to descend the hill, and I'd already learned my lesson with a similar fiasco while traveling with my friend Golly in Wellington. ;) So I high-tailed it down, passing another annoying German couple on the way, and hit the pavement right when there was no more light. Thankfully said German couple redeemed themselves as well, when they gave me a ride back to my hostel to save me another hour's walk. :) I celebrated my beautiful Kaikoura day by treating myself to clam chowder and a beer, that totally hit the spot.

The next day I woke up at 4:45am for my 5:30am appointment with Dolphin Encounter. My guide book said that it's a super reputable company, and it definitely was! They geared us up with wetsuits, snorkels, masks and fins, and then had us watch a video briefing on how these dolphins are WILD, so it's up to us to entertain them as opposed to the other way around. We boarded a bus and then a boat, and before I knew it we were surrounded by HUNDREDS of swimming dolphins! It was crazy and a bit nerve-wracking! I stumbled about the boat nervously gearing up but not knowing what to expect, and before I knew it I was sliding into the 14 degree celsius water. I nervously looked below me into the vast blue emptiness, then back up to the boat, which is what I always do in deep ocean water. "OMG! What feet deep is it?!" (My brother Brady will appreciate that reference, haha) With my head raised above the water, I saw a dark gray dorsal fin swim toward me. I momentarily sucked in air while biting my snorkel in a brief moment of panic, then tentatively ducked my head under the water. There I saw a freaking 5-foot dark gray dolphin furiously swimming toward me, then away from me just as rapidly as he came! Ahh! But I literally had no time to be scared, or process what I was doing, because instantly there were 2, then 3, then 4, then 5 dolphins all swimming within a 5-foot radius of my floundering body. I think I was a little bit in shock, like "is this really happening?!" After what seemed like ages of trying to stay afloat and breathe, I developed the courage to act "dolphin-like" as they recommended, by making high-pitched noises, swimming in circles and diving below. That really got their attention! At one moment, I FREAKED out because I saw something black swimming with us. When I saw a webbed flipper and realized it was a seal, I yelled out and almost swam back to the boat! But none of my fellow swimmers seemed alarmed, so I hesitantly continued with what I was doing, taking pictures and swimming in circles with the dolphins. It got exhausting, especially after we climbed out of the water, jetted another 15 minutes south and jumped in the water with even more dolphins. But it was beautiful. It sounds like a hippie-Cassie thing to say, but I swear that when I locked eyes with a dolphin and we swam circles with each other, it felt like I was one with nature... with everything, really. It was just purely beautiful.


When we finally were done with swimming, everyone hurried to take their wetsuits off and put on warm clothes, but my whole body felt warm and calm at the back of the boat, even with the cold wind blowing. They stopped the boat so we could take pictures, and I jumped out on the teeny front and got some great pictures! They reminded me of dogs, how they were so friendly and playful, with an insane amount of energy!

On the way back, our equally full of energy Kiwi guide, Melani, told me everything there is to know about getting a job with them. I'm pretty sure that that's what I want to do the next time I'm in New Zealand. What an amazing job! Fingers crossed it works out some day! :) When we finally left Dolphin Encounter, their last message to us was that we'd just had a real dolphin experience, in which they were not enticed. I thought it was such a great take-away message, since we all need to appreciate real experiences with our natural world.
Walking back to the hostel, I couldn't stop smiling and reflecting upon the beautiful experience I'd just had. I felt divinely elated... like I do after a great and uplifting worship service. Similarly to my other interactions with New Zealand, I couldn't put words to how I was feeling, until I spoke about it with a young woman who worked at our hostel. She totally identified with how I was feeling, her eyes lighting up and speaking about how it makes sense why dolphin swims are useful in special needs children's rehabilitation. She even said that in Russia and the U.S., women can actually give underwater births with dolphins in the water! Apparently they nudge women to be in the correct positions, which is what they do with their fellow dolphins... it really just baffles the mind! But I loved what she said about how she felt after she swam with the dolphins... "she just felt love." I really felt the same way... the "Baba nam kevalam" kind of love, the "we are all together as one" kind of love. It was just beautiful.

Later that afternoon I hitch-hiked back to Christchurch, and later on that night I actually found out that I was accepted into the school of public health master's program at UCLA! For being my last day in New Zealand, I have to say it was perfect. Now I'm writing this from Sydney, Australia, and I doubt that my week here will live up to the wonderful time I had in New Zealand. But, similarly to how I took my "happy" on with me from Fiji, I'm sure that I'll also take my bliss, beauty, love and acceptance from New Zealand on with me during the rest of my trip, and always. I have to say again... yay life! :)

(Crazy) hitch-hiking experiences on the East Coast

The past five days on the south island have passed in a blur, perhaps because they've been some of the most action-packed and adrenalin-ridden of my NZ trip so far. No, I wasn't sky-diving, heli-hiking or shark-diving (uhh, can you believe that last one's even a sport? Not for me!). Believe it or not, I got my heart racing by asking strangers for a lift to my next destination along the East Coast, otherwise known as hitch-hiking. :)

When I first found out that many savvy NZ travelers rely on hitching as their primary means of transit, I was shocked and intrigued. "You mean stand on a highway with your thumb out, get picked up by a slovenly trucker, and wait to get hacked into pieces at the next wooded exit? No thanks!" Actually, NZ is very much like the U.S. in the 60s, and young hitch-hikers rarely wait more than half an hour before getting picked up by a kind-hearted/bored local/fellow traveler. Young solo women have to be more careful, of course, but throughout my journey so far I've met about a dozen who have told me that they've had no problem with it. So since my Magic Bus's itinerary ended in Christchurch, I planned to hitch-hike the straight-shot 1 Highway up to Kaikoura-- sea life watching capital of NZ-- for my last few days here. And of course I decided to call my parents after the fact to let them know how wonderfully it had worked out. :) Easy as mince pie, eh?

So Wednesday February 3rd after I last wrote, 2 days before my big hitch-hike adventure, I decided to "practice" while in the beautiful coastal city of Dunedin. I'd arrived at the Leviathon Hotel at 2pm and found the city was cute and quaint.First settled by Scotland and knick-named the "Edinburgh of the Southern Hemisphere," it's famous for its crazy-ornate train station, the oldest NZ University, and the moderately exciting Cadbury chocolate factory. Despite all this, what I really wanted to see was the Otago Peninsula, 30 km/a 1 hour drive out of town and home to a royal albatross and yellow-eyed penguin colony. The Magic Bus recommended an eco-friendly tour to us, but the $80 was out of my price-range considering how I'd already spent 50% over my NZ budget. So, I asked the woman who worked at our hostel if there was a way I could take a bus and/or run there, and she recommended a bus that went 20k out and then hitching the rest of the way. My pulse quickened just thinking about it-- what a great way to get some experience hitching with tourists for 20 minutes, in preparation for my 2 hour 30 minute hijira in a few days!

I switched to my running clothes and hopped on the bus, excited to finally take public transit since it's normally much more my speed than tour packages. When the driver dropped me off at the last stop of Portobello, he creepily grinned and said that an attractive young woman like me would have no trouble getting picked up... but it gave me confidence nontheless. I set out and ran the coastal road, admiring the sea scape, breathing in the salty air and listening to the chirping birds and buzzing insects. It was so relaxing and comfortable, I powered on for 8k/5 miles, taking an hour for all the photo-stops. Finally I arrived at a cafe 4k from teh Albatross colony, thinking that now would be a good time to stick out my thumb. What would you know, but the cafe owner offered for her son to give me a ride, and point out the best spots to see the Albatross! Gotta love Kiwis.

10 minutes later I was chatting with fellow tourists about the difference between albatross and their almost-look-alikes, common sea gulls. Then I saw them fly and was blown away by the 8-12 foot wing span! It was magnificent! And it was so much sweeter to have worked my way there, as opposed to paying $80 for a guided bus ride. After taking some pictures, the wind picked up, and a good-looking late-20s Israeli guy I happened to be chatting with offered to give me a lift. I almost refused so that I could complete my work-out with some thumb action, but this was close to hitching, and besides I'd never met an Israeli traveler before so it seemed like a win-win. We had a great drive back to Dunedin, talking about his efforts to persuade his local Israeli government to adopt more eco-friendly bike lanes, and how impressed we both were by the New Zealand Department of Conservation's powerful and influential role in sustainable development. He ended up driving me back to the supermarket exactly where I started my journey, and I was so happy with how everything went so smoothly that I skipped and whistled my way back to my hostel! :)

Thursday February 4th I got some much-needed rest after the Magic Bus took us to beautiful Lake Tekapo. While lying on a beach overlooking the icy blue glacier-fed lake water, I somehow got into my fourth "capitalism vs. socialism" debate of my trip with a friendly Canadian brother and sister. Afterwards, a German girl and I went on a 2 hour hike to the top of nearby Mount John for a 360 degree look-out of surrounding snow-capped mountains. Incidentally, she scored a ride to Mount Cook when we met some Aussies on the peak who were going there the following day, so again I felt encouraged to continue with my hitch-the-East-Coast plan. :)

Friday February 5th the weather turned from blue skies to gray fog as we drove into Christchurch, so I finished my book A Land of Two Halves by Joe Bennett. He's a funny author similar to Bill Bryson or Maarten Troost, in which he travels through the North and South islands by-- you guessed it-- hitching. My Dad and I have a running joke about how one can accomplish anything by first reading a book about it, which is how I completed the Los Angeles marathon in 2003; so I laughed to myself when I realized that I had geekily done just that, in other words, found the closest how-to book on hitching in NZ. :) That night I enjoyed some down-time in my Stonehurst Hostel in Christchurch, made dinner and crashed early.

Finally, the morning of Saturday February 6th arrived. It turned out it was Waitangi Day, a somewhat controversial National Holiday in honor of the Treaty of Waitangi signed by the first Europeans and Maoris to make NZ into "one nation." The roads were a bit closed, so my hostel lady recommended that I take a bus out of the city center and suburbs, and hitch from the highway. She even gave me a poster and marker to make a sign! So far my adventure wasn't feeling very adventurous.

But that was soon to change. Half an hour later, after taking the bus and waiting 10 minutes at the side of the road with my "Kaikoura" sign and a weak smile, a small gray two-door car pulled over. The guy in his late 30s introduced himself with a friendly smile and said he was going just 20k down the road, but he'd be happy to drive me part of my way, so I jumped in. Upon learning that I'm from the states, he immediately launched into funny stories about his Aussie friend's travels to the American Southwest, including a story when he woke up in the desert with a rattle snake curled up inside his sleeping bag. When I revealed how my intense snake phobia steered my decision to spend just one week in Australia, he told me about all his friends' near-death experiences there. Somehow this led to him telling me about how he himself had technically been declared dead twice, once on the operating table and once by nearly drowning. This seemed at least somewhat normal to me, but he continued, both with his story and past the destination he'd previously told me he was driving me to. "I'll drive you a bit further-- it's my good deed for the day!" He told me that he was technically disabled, since his mother had been thrown down a flight of stairs while 6 months pregnant with him, and though the doctors were miraculously able to save both of them, he was fried a bit. "So, I'm a recovering schizophrenic-- in remission, really-- you might even say I'm just bipolar." Arrghh... of course the first car I jump into would be with a rebounding crazy!

All joking aside, he was really friendly, I never once felt unsafe, and it was a pleasant ride. That being said, my next ride by 50-something Colleen, a Canadian who had lived in Nelson for 30 years, was a WONDERFUL experience. She was a health professional returning from a meditation retreat in Christchurch, and Nelson's so small that she actually knew both of my former WWOOFING hosts based upon their meditation affinity. We got into a lively discussion about modern day Maori relations and the treaty of Waitangi, the environment, women's rights, quality of life in developed vs. developing countries, white guilt, and individual vs. communal mindsets. She gave me several great progressive tidbits of wisdom, such as an anagram for HOPE-- helping other possibilities emerge-- which we both like because it's more active than passive. She also recommended that I watch Food.Inc, a documentary about the corn industry's impact on migrant U.S. farm workers, and reading a book called the Female Nomad. She also said she's a member of an organization called Servas, which is similar to couchsurfing.org but more established and credible due to an extensive background check for hosts and guests. She dropped me at my hostel in Kaikoura and even offered for me to stay with her the enxt time in Nelson! Did I mention that I seriously love Kiwis? :)

Kaikoura was out of this world, and I'll have to save that for tomorrow's blog. Stay tuned for tomorrow's entry-- the last one I'll make here in New Zealand-- about how amazingly life changing my experience of swimming with dolphins was! :)

Awestruck by the South Island's Awesome Beauty

The last time I wrote, I jokingly criticized my friends' meager recommendations of the minimum amount of time one should devote to adequately see New Zealand. Well, they did get one thing right-- hands down, I 100% agree with their advice to spend most of my time on the south island. I mean OH MY GOD is it beautiful!

Before, while meandering through the north island's undulating grassy hills flecked with sheep and cattle and pristine lakes and streams, I was undoubtedly impressed. The grass is much greener, the sun much brighter, and the water more blue than any similar "bushy" area I've ever visited. (By the way, I don't know what the American equivalent for the word "bush" is. In both New Zealand and Australia, it's anywhere you can go "tramping" or hiking, but it's a beautiful mix of forresty trees and jungly ferns that really can only be described as bush, which I love.) Still, a part of me felt like I could be anywhere on the 5 freeway from about the California valley up through to Vancouver.

Arriving in Nelson in the south island, I still felt like I could be in a more beautiful version of Cali, especially since many pine trees and redwoods have replaced New Zealand's native forests. Perhaps that's why even though I was deliriously happy to meditate in the valley, tramp through the forest, splash in the bay and stroll along the beach, it was difficult to believe that I'm actually on the other side of the world.

However, ever since I jumped on the Magic Bus last Saturday the 30th to explore the south island, every doubt of my current whereabouts has completely vanished. So have my previous notions of what constitutes "natural beauty." This beauty is truly from another world; no wonder it's the site of Lord of the Rings. Then again, I don't understand why every movie isn't made here. Every glance out of my window frames a postcard-ready protrait. I find myself laughing at my memories of the "beautiful" images of Sierra Club calendars; they seem blase compared to the most boring highway here. This scenery has redefined my usage of the word "picturesque." My bus friends and I laughed about the undescribable beauty of the scenery this very morning, since we all independently arrived at the same conclusion, that "it's like the most beautiful part of my home country, multiplied by 10."

In fact, I"ve been reading a funny travel book about New Zealand for the past week, A Land of Two Haves by Joe Bennett, in which he makes this same point in my favorite passage:

"To get some idea of the place, take the English Lake District, heighten the mountains, file their edges, fold them more tightly, cover most of them with snow, iron that snow, enlarge the lakes, intensify the brightness of the light by a factor of ten, banish all drizzle and shoot fourteen out of every fifteen people." (p. 120)

Since the Magic Bus is quite international, I'm finding that while NZ's prettier than everyone's home country, it's indescribably magnificent in every language as well. The other day while driving by a particularly striking lake, the Dutch guy beside me said "prachtig," to which the Dutch girl in front of him responded "meer prachtig." What followed sounded like a ping-pong game of funny-sounding words being tossed back and forth, till I actually laughed out loud at them. They both jerked their heads to look at me questioningly, and I explained that I wasn't trying to be rude by laughing at their language, but that they were doing what I had been doing all day-- using every adjective in their language to try and describe the breath-taking beauty. To play along with their game, I exclaimed "es maravilloso! impresionante! magnifico!", to which some English blokes around us chirped in "it's lovely! brilliant! superb!" etc. We all laughed, and I found out the Dutch guy next to me spoke Spanish too, so we ended up conversing for the drive to our next city.

Strangely enough, I've spoken quite a bit of Spanish during the past week since I left my Argentinian and Chilean friends in Nelson. Saturday the 30th, while driving along the craggy west coast with its jutting rocks and crashing waves, I happened to befriend a 37 year-old Spanish math teacher named Eneko, who was almost as attractive as the scenery. :) We took pictures for each other at the famous Pancake Rocks of Punakaiki, then ended up staying in the same room at our Noahs Ark Backpacker Hostel in Greymouth. I decided to do my customary New-City-Cassie-Adventure, consisting of going for a long run while taking pictures and doing errands. I made it through the bush all the way to the top of the King Park Walkway with excellent views of the city, again feeling like a superwoman for having no fear of tramping alone. :) Afterwards at the supermarket I literally bumped into Eneko while shopping for the same cheesy pasta dinner ingredients, so we decided to cook together. It turned out to be a fun night, since we met an Argentinian couple and went out for drinks and dancing! The next day an English girl on our bus congratulated me for befriending such a good-looking guy, haha. Our friendship was completely plutonic, but I do hope to visit him in San Sebastian some day when I hike El Camino de Santiago in Norther Spain... especially since it happens to be one of the few Spanish cities I didn't visit when I lived in Madrid from 2004-2005.

Sunday the 31st we drove to Franz Josef Glacier after a beautiful bus ride. Upon arrival, I left with a group of about 20 people to hike on the glacier! It was amazing! Apparently that area normally has 240 days per year of rain, since it's technically located in a rainforest which is why the glacier has a chance to form due to the heavy rain and snowfall. However, we were incredibly lucky to have perfect conditions of a hot, sunny day. They gave us boots and rainjackets, and we hiked for 30 minutes on rocks until we got to the giant, light blue, surprisingly dirty hunk of ice wedged between two steep triangular mountains. It felt really paradoxical to be sweating from the heat but cooled by the ice... almost like standing in front of an open freezer on a hot summer day. :)

The hike through dirty slush, icy staircases and razor-blade-sharp ice caves was fun but strenuous, and after a well-deserved hot tub, I completely crashed that night. The next day was February 1st, and our bus drove through ridiculously pristine lakes that mirrored the surrounding mountains on the way to Queenstown, bungee jump capitol of the world. By the time we arrived at my Southern Laughter Hostel at 5pm, I had completely exhausted all descriptor adjectives for "pretty" from my vocabulary, and was content to just gaze out the window with a dumbfounded grin on my face. I decided at the last minute that evening to go to Milford Sound the following day, a $150 excursion south to Te Anau and onward to the Fiordland National Park, based soley on the excellent weather. Although it's out of my budget, I decided that when/if I come back to NZ, the weather will never again be as good, so now was the time!

Milford Sound is hailed by many as the most dramatic and beautiful thing to do in New Zealand, and I have to agree that I'm ELATED that I did it-- it was by far the best thing that I've done so far here. It's not actually a sound, but a fiord-- defined as "a long, narrow inlet with steep sides, created in a valley carved by glacial activity." That being said, I really didn't know what to expect. The two-hour drive was beautiful enough in itself, as we hugged a crystal blue lake leaving Queenstown to find glowing green hills, followed by a rainforested area, and then the hugest craggy mountains, rocks and glaciers right next to the road that I have ever seen. The whole bus was noisy with people snapping pictures, but it was almost problemmatic because every sight was post-card worthy, every view was better than the last. It was an outdoor wonderland!

Right when I couldn't imagine how the actual Milford Sound could be any more beautiful than the bus drive, we arrived. Not having known what a fiord was, I was astounded by the sight before me-- a gigantic deep blue lake, enclosed by vertical mountains jutting thousands of feet into the sky. We boarded a boat and go out to explore the wildlife, waterfalls and rock formations, and I almost peed my pants I was so excited when within the first ten minutes a team of nearly 20 dolphins came to swim alongside the boat! I was so surprised, because my hostel had told me before that it was really rare to see them, but there they were. It was truly a magical day.

On the bus ride home, I reflected again on all of the beauty I had seen and continued to see, and decided that I have to return to New Zealand within the next ten years-- ideally with a partner-- to do all the tramps that I missed, or want to do again. There's so much to see north of Auckland, the Coromandal range, the Tongariro Crossing (since the weather was bad the day I did it), Abel Tasman, Mount Cook, and Steward Island... plus all of the tracks and national parks in-between. I figure it could take me between 3-6 months if I visit again, but if I bought a van and camped the whole way, it could be done as cheaply as this portion of my trip. Honestly I think I'm going through separation anxiety having to leave NZ five days from now, so I'm resorting to day-dreaming about coming back... but at least I'm really happy that I've had a beautiful first trip here! And during the next few days, I'll get to see even more beauty-- and, most excitingly, I'm going to swim with dolphins my last day!!! Wish me luck! ;)