Haiko on the road......... ... .. . . .

Thai Red cross Flood relief - some heavy lifting

2011-11-15T00:17:00.001+11:00

Update: pictures on the flood situation 15Nov2011 here.

Take a bag walk in a large circle and the bag is filled as you pass different stations.

Give it to the a group of 30 people sitting and tying the bags up.

Then a human chain laods about 100 bags into one of the HUGE trucks.

Load 40 kg bags of rice into a trucks from forklift pallets. Two man job.

I insist its always two men, no heroics, the young ones will try anyway though.

Ok, whatever.

Finally some REAL action and heavy lifting.

Enough sittinig and typing on my computer, I want to DO some REAL work, (yes ok: Writing is real work too.)

I've not seen any real action on the flood relief front - because as a foreigner I wasn't able to find it till now.

It's a'happenin' though, and with real gusto.

About 10 huge trucks needed filling, 130 volunteers mill around the Thai Red Cross.

Students, tiny petite girls, lanky tall dudes, weatherbeaten veterans, the whole mix is here. Even a farang (foreigner) or two.

Its fun

There is a spirit of adventure and all joining in, everyone just looks for stuff to do and does it.

I only speak a little Thai, but the organization is kind of organic.It's easyto pick up. Monkey see, monkey do, stuff.

I'm the monkey.

People know the drill.

Ok, now we do the bag fill run again.

Then the human chain to fill the truck with water, with boxes, with bags.

The 40kg bags or rice are out of their league. "Da Boiyz" do those. "Two at a time", "Song Khon" I tell them in Thai. It's about the only thing I input into the process and they listen.

Still surprises me that people listen to me.

Then a young Thai explains it to me.

"It's because your old, they'll listen to you."

Ouch... there I have it !!!

Ouch...!!!

I now have the seniority of age, I finally made it to that level.

I have felt things were kinda easier, people listened to me recently, esp in Asia.

Get older in Asia, seems a wise choice.

A thoroughly enjoyable day, real action, witnessed first hand.

And I didn't get any funny stares or looks. Just turned up, did it.

I wonder about the process in Australia, I can just imagine it. Kilometers of forms, insurance, legal stuff to sign.

Here you just wander in and help.

Today I've found my balance in work: the recipe is: mental work for half the day, and physical work for the other half. Perfect.

----- Musings:

Why is something like that so enjoyable ? And working in a large bureaucracy/organization is so deadening ?

This thing today is:

Temporary,
clear common purpose
freedom to choose your activity,
spirit of adventure.

Large org is:

Long term,
for money
you are a cog in the machine,
caged dogs barking and snarling at each other....

but then: the system is a product of its people. WE created it. ...

hm... bears thinking about more....

Too tired to do much more now.

stomach bugs, belly problems

2011-11-14T13:36:00.001+11:00

If you ever have a stomach problem like this lady:

Dear Universe please let a truck stop, I think I need help arranging my funeral

My stomach gives up sometime during the night as I am camping during the season’s first frost and I lose track exactly how many times I have hurled. When the sun comes up in the morning, I pack up and decide to pedal into the closest town to look for a pharmacy or a place to die, whichever comes first.

http://www.skalatitude.com/2011/11/dear-universe-please-let-truck-stop-i.html

There is an old non chemical way to deal with stomach bugs of all types that I've used in India 1978:

It's called the plunger system, (if you are squeamish stop reading here) :-)

you eat a lot of dry oats, or the Indians have just dry chaff,
you eat it raw, no fluid, or as little as possible.

The oats/chaff/dry stuff expands in your stomach, and moves down the system like a "SOAK IT ALL UP" plug.

works wonders (at least in my experience)
works when pills won't anymore

In Thailand they have carbon tablets to do a similar job.

hope you never need to try this

:-)

PS: the reason it works when pills and chemicals won't is that it's purely mechanical, you effectively create a big sponge that soaks up all the crud and moves it down and out.

With pills you have to get the right ones. If you get the right ones all is fine. But if you get pills for Amoeba's and you have the 'other' variety of bug, they won't help and vice versa.

Saigon 2011 Tao Da Temple

The Plunger works on anything. If it doesn't - time to call it quits.

Golden Mount of Bangkok

2011-11-11T03:26:00.001+11:00

the HUGE brass Gong fills the whole space around me.
the air shimmers and booms with shifting harmonies.
Booooooooooooooooooom, booooooooooooooooooooooooooom,
it vibrates all of your body, you feel it in your bones,....

The hot tropic air is cool up here, the Golden Mount, the highest natural point in Bangkok.
Thousands upon thousands of people shuffle up centimeter by centimeter, bodies against bodies, hot, human mass of bodies winding its way up and around in a huge spiral.

I'm at the very top now.
Boooooooooooooooooooooom, boooooooooooooooooooooooom,
something dislodges in me, the deep vibrating sounds loosens something in me. All around is the vast sea of lights of Bangkok. Fireworks going off in the distance.
Boooooooooooooooooooooom, booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom, the air shimmers,

I have no idea where the sounds comes from,
its in me and around me and through me.
Why do I feel like crying ?
Who cares, no one would notice and if they did they'd not think it strange.

People kneel in prayer around the most central stupa, - today and only tonight, it is clothed in read cloth, illuminated by bright lights, it shines like a lighthouse for tense of kilometers.

The smell of cooking, drifts up, the sounds of the fair far off.
Everywhere, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, but up here, it's cool and there is space to walk, on the roof of Bangkok.

I kneel down, take off shoes, pray.
First issue..... oh... I know what to do.... hm... how come I suddenly just knew what to do ? Great.
Second issue.... I get a picture... about the situation, it describes it and I see what the best path would be... its a clear image, for the next 3-to-4 years ahead.
Third issues..... Yes, that will happen. No problem, it's ok.

Relieved I get up. Something happened, no idea how or why, but I feel different.
And then the long way down, it's much faster.
The path to the road takes 30 minutes, shuffle, body to body, touching on 4 or 5 sides, squeezy, slow, smoke from the grills on the side drift over us.
Shuffle shuffle, shuffle.... .
But I don't mind, I knew this was the deal.
I knew I HAD to go to the very top tonight.
And that would be the price, I knew that.

---(O)---

I've visited Thailand since 1978, and today was the first time I'd ever gone up the Golden Mount.
The couple who run the Passport bookshop told me about Loy Kratong there today.
When I saw it shining up there in the distance, I decided to go there, through the crowds and hours of shuffling........

Heiko Rudolph. (c)
Loy Kratong 2011
10Nov11 THursday,
Bangkok, Banglamphuu, Bangkok House.

Bkk-Floods

2011-11-10T18:15:00.001+11:00

Sunday 6th Nov, I joined a group of farangs and Thais to raise money for the flood victims.
We offered to wash windscreens at intersections around Bangkok.

details of how the idea started and what we did are here
http://bangkokvanguards.com/wipe-the-tide/
then after a few days they wrote about how it's working, here:
http://bangkokvanguards.com/2011/11/07/wipe-the-tide-an-idea-evolving/

future events by this group on Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Wipe-the-Tide/209254372476047


9Nov11 Asoke Junction 13 pax, 3 hours, 33KBaht. :-)

Another group "Baan Arsa Jaidee" also found this method useful and joined in as well. Their blog is on:
http://www.baanarsajaidee.blogspot.com/

tomorrow I"m going to visit their HQ and ask about helping with the flood appeal.
I might be delaying my trip to Laos a little.

Ongoing fund raising from BannARsa Jaidee: by washing car windscreens here http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=242610212466029

Heiko

More details below for anyone really interested in the nitty gritty:
Baan Arsa Jaidee's Thai langauge main website (The government agency): http://www.arsadusit.com/

videos of windscreen washing in BKK.

What actually happens out on the street:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pQtBScH0kU&feature=share

Talking about the idea:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9ffgg78qls

--------------------
SUMMARY OF WEBSITES related to fundraising via windscreen washing:

Arsan Jaidee
Home page is: http://www.arsadusit.com/
Ongoing fund raising by washing cars http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=242610212466029
more info http://www.baanarsajaidee.blogspot.com/

Michael's idea of washing windscreens :
http://bangkokvanguards.com/2011/11/07/wipe-the-tide-an-idea-evolving/
http://bangkokvanguards.com/wipe-the-tide/
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Wipe-the-Tide/209254372476047

videos.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9ffgg78qls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pQtBScH0kU&feature=share

Flood news and maps:

Map from CS: thanks to JtG:

http://maps.google.fr/maps/ms?msid=203278216882407399461.0004af623e23c9dccde11&msa=0&ll=13.748723,100.706177&spn=0.812362,1.454315

Tourist areas:

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=210550963008557722983.0004b0e502d21dd2b1ec3&msa=0&ll=13.818744,100.579147&spn=0.436734,0.617294

Updates on situation in Thailand http://www.thaitravelblogs.com/

Pictures:

1. https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.289173864436462.71079.286840474669801&type=3

2. https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.291011427586039.71626.286840474669801&type=3

Info in English on Baan Arasa Jaidee:
- click on pictures for full readable size.

Myanmar in the rain

2011-07-29T21:26:00.001+10:00

rain, 
humid, 
crumbling city
tea houses, 
great places to sit and zone out. 
smells sounds... 
nuns in pink drift past. 
 My mind is full of things... to think about but no work pressure, 
gentle nibbling of things I like to do, write.... 
man what a life.... 
can i do this for longer ? 

is this legal ? moral ? allowed ?

2011-07-21T19:01:00.002+10:00

This guy loved posing for a picture, he really got into the fun of it all. a HUGE wok with prawns 21July Bukit Bintang area, Kuala Lumpur

writing from air asia LCCT KL: next to McDonalds is one of 2 or 3 power points that are not turned off or locked.
wifi is free.

I did my first real "on the road, writing my books" stint today.... worked really well. love this life....
I found an area in KL that is like the one I stayed in in Saigon, long term livable at retiree level, nice clean simple room, lots of cafe's and actions and a good vibe....
I reckon I could do this in almost any major city in SE Asia now... inc Japan and Taiwan... find retiree/backpacker area, settle in..... write.....

feels strange, here I am wandering around the world wherever the wind blows while others are "working"
I'm working too, but it's my kind of lifestyle and work.... finally after 51 years... :-)
feels like I'm cheating... shouldn't this be harder ?
shouldn't there be more pain and angst ?
is this legal ? moral ? to wander about on my savings and rental income... ?
amazing....

Kuala Lumpur - the journey begins...

2011-07-21T00:14:00.001+10:00

12 months of leave without pay.... week 3: Kuala Lumpur, the journey begins....

I arrived in KL, the smell, the people, so different. ( 20Jul11 )
Something in me relaxed.
KL is nothing as clean or organized as Melbourne, but the tropical warmth, the smile on the people, - or is it just me ? Smile and world smiles with you ?

Something in me changed.
I'm more relaxed.
I belong here, - well right now, I belong here...

I wander the streets like a sleepwalker, soaking in the atmosphere like a man drinking water after weeks in the desert.
Don't know what I'm soaking in but it is something.
something like this:

A planet spinning around a gaseous ball doing nuclear fission in space.
For millions and millions of years things slowly move and grow. ....and then one day like a flash a whole lot of people are around, and a Heiko is born, he wanders about the planet.
"Worry about old age, worry about jobs, worry about ...." his mind tells him....others tell him, he tells himself....
and in all those millions of years,.... this one moment,
this one instant, where Heiko writes this email.
This evening where he walks through the tropical atmosphere of restaurants and guest houses....
this evening is like none other, in the history of millions of millions of years.... and will never come again.
This moment, this evening, is unique, and will never come again like it is now....
and his little pea brain thinks he understands the why and wherefore's of it all.
This little creature with his money and credit cards and and computer skills thinks he's a shit hot dude .... (and he is in a manner of speaking)
But what does this Heiko really know ?
He is a part of all that is, and all that is is a part of him.
A grain of sand, on huge beach.... and one of billions upon billions of grains...
and that thought no longer bothers him... he's fine with it.

Every person he meets, he will never meet them again, each moment is unique, precious.... something about it....

when I travel and pass through a place like this... these thoughts come to me....
when i stay in one place... it leaves me....
I'd like to have that awareness 24/7 .... thats my urban monk's dream

Abba sings "SOS....." next door as I write this,
there is life and people and atmosphere all around,
The Unintterruptable power supply beeps every few minutes...
Gmail saves my drafts....
the planet spins around the nuclear fission gas ball,
Heiko types an email....
life
existence...
being....

friends told me my morroccan writings were really good.
http://heikorudolph.com/travel/morocco10.htm
they wanted more like that.
hm...there's a challenge.

.my first born book of short stories #1 Tengra Ngiam

He operates on conscious patients, asks them to sing, walks the hills of Burma - Dr Naga, walking surgeon of the hilltribes.

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....' - Leonard Cohen

.
When I get too serious I remind myself of Music , life - & 'getting there' cool career advice http://youtu.be/FY50vvMjX_o

12 months leave without pay: week 1

2011-07-06T22:36:00.000+10:00

I've turned 50+. If I don't do stuff NOW, I never will.

Doing things "one day" is not going to work. One day == never.

So I've taken a year off. Leave without pay for 12 months.

Week1: 4Jul11 to 10Jul11

visit colleagues at former workplace, - very nice, we had the most fun and relaxing time in 8 years, drinking coffee together and just hanging out. Took me leaving to get us all together.
Write, copy Hard drive data, make backups of everything I have so far, in preparation for travelling.... .
Visit my sister and brother in law in Tasmania, Hobart. :-) 7Jul11.
write, sort out my crap,
love this rant about Myanmar :-) http://www.couchsurfing.org/group_read.html?gid=412&post=9339133

Week 2.... wait n see.

language of the country - what to learn

2011-06-01T19:32:00.002+10:00

Saigon2011

Uncle haiko's method of learning a new language:

Before you go:

learn the numbers,
hello,
goodbye,
thank you,
how much is.... ,
please,
where is the toilet,
Where is....
How to say this in <insert language of country> ?

In the new country:

1) spend 3 days: make a list of all the things you would like to say but can't
things I found I had to learn:

"the bill please"
"the menu please"
"No ice. no sugar.... "

2) ask/pay a native speaker to teach you.
3) carry summary in pocket, - one A4 sheet of paper.

have fun. Enjoy, laugh, practice, ask for help...

The principle is: you only remember and learn what you need and use.

Lonely planet phrasebook, or any small phrasebook is useful.

I don't go for formal courses or lots of phrases.

Hey we are humans first.... human warmth of Vietnam - continued....

2011-05-31T01:50:00.011+10:00

30May2011 This evening I stood in the edge of the park next to the biggest roundabout in the center of Saigon, waiting for a Vietnamese friend. Motorbikes, cars, busses, traffic, people, noise, lights, a gentle drizzling rainy season rain.

I stand up on the ledge of the flower bed so as to be clearly visible.

On the other side of the flower bed a young University age Vietnamese lady walked past, smiling brighly.

I smiled back and she wandered over to talk.

"Where are you from ?"

"Australia"
Practicing her English I assume.

"Melbourne or Sydney...?" she really tried hard to remember the names of those two big cities.

Going through the "where are you from....? What do you do.... ?" routine usually makes me cringe. But the happy enthusiasm with which she spoke was disarming. Genuine and friendly.

"What do you ...."

"I teach Electronic Engineering....blah blah blah..."

"What are you doing ?

"Just playing" she says. I assume this to mean just wandering around to practice her English.

People who practice English sometimes use it as a front to sell tours or gems or whatever schemes.
That's not the case right now.

What strikes me most about her is that is she is genuine.

I'm actually shocked that a complete stanger, would simply smile and talk to another complete stranger just like that. It's me who has to overcome my cultural inhibitions.

She tells me in all earnestness about her dream, that she wants to learn Italian but has trouble finding people to practice with.

My friend now arrives. On a piece of paper, I write the name of a site where Vietnamese and foreigners meet in a safe, monitored space ( Couchsurfing.org Saigon group ). It is for people to stay with others on their floor or couches and it has a nice informal social group in Saigon - and most major cities of the world.

She might find italian or other other language exhange there.

What surprised me most was the simple human trust, not stupid naivety, but trust in herself, to judge who to talk to. The guts to talk to a total stranger.

I don't think it has much to do with me, - though then again I have noticed that even in a long line of people, beggars will often magnetically gravitate to me. Why ? Who knows.

As we talked all the Western warnings about strangers whizzed through my mind. I simply couldn't imagine his happening in my home town. I'm used to a guarded scowl on the face of strangers and someone asking me the time, makes me suspicious.

I remember something I read on Alastair Humphreys blog:

....I rode right across Europe and into the Middle East. Far from being the dangerous place I had always seen on the TV News, people waved to me as I passed, families invited me to stay the night in their homes or join them for a meal. I learned a crucial lesson about the world during those hot, dusty weeks: whatever governments are shouting angrily about, whatever extreme sections of society may be doing, the vast majority of people on Earth are good, ordinary people just like you and I. I rode through 60 countries on my circumnavigation, and in each country this held true. The world is, by and large, a good place. Traveling opened my eyes to that. .... from: Alastair Humphreys writing about adventure

After writing the earlier blog "Hey we are humans first.... human warmth of Vietnam" this is another one of 'those confirmations'.

Vietnam has had a horrific history of war, children are still being born deformed from the effects of the war. And yet, I can walk around this city and experience such things.
Amazing.

31May2011... update: the lady I wrote about above joined Couchsurfing and was pleased to see THIS blog here, about our meeting.
Small world.

Hey we are humans first.... human warmth of Vietnam

2011-05-29T23:32:00.049+10:00

in some places ....
in some place people still feel more REAL. 

how are they more real ? 
example:  Saigon, Vietnam: 
taxi to airport. 
I offer the driver some of my favourite, chocolate bisquits. 
"Oh, no thanks" 
Ok I expected that. 
He drives too fast, too dangerous, I don't like to see poeple hurt. 

I put my hand on his shoulder, make soft sounds, "sloooooowwwww"
He gets the idea. 
His driving is calm, nice now. I don't fear that we will injure someone. 
At the airport he fills in the taxi voucher for my Taxi card from work. 
"Can I have a bisquit. I'm so hungry, can't drive anymore." 
Sure, I give him the rest of the packet. 
There was no guile in him. 
He was being real. 
How do I know ? I felt it. It's real but not quantyfiable

At the four star Hotel in Hanoi: 
"What do you do ?" (it's obvious I live in Vietnam)
"I teach Engineering." 
"Where do you teach ?" 
etc....
genuine interest in me from the staff serving the buffet breakfast. 
They have real smiles. 
They talk like real people, 
asking questions because they want to know. Not for some policy, or shut up because of some moronic corporate  policy. 
I find out that the tall one is a student, 
has no boyfriend, but will marry one day. 
They got up at 5am to serve breakfast at 6am. 
But not everyday, sometimes it's an afternoon shift ... .    

Lots of other stuff, - casual fun talk over breakfast to make the time more pleasant. 
Yes, I'm the customer, and they are the staff, but, Hey! We are people, humans first. 
Forgive me if I have a chip on shoulder, but I have the impressing in the developed rich 'civilized' world, I'd be dealing with professional employees toeing the corporate line first and a human being second. 

Back in the developed world: I was stopped at airport security.

"What's that in your breast pocket ?" 

Metal detector had not gone off and it looked like a passport, in fact it WAS a passport.

I went into my antipathy to authority attitude, meaning: sullen silence. 

Handed over passport with the inner attitude of "here we go again, more moronic regulations just to let some wanker feel important"
“Hallo!” the guard said to me, - meaning, lets be human first, and say ‘Hi’, ok ? 
“Hallo” I said, and I realized I’d been grumpy. I'd gone into "I'm in an anal retentive society" defensive attitude again. 
That's probably not fair. 
I admit this may be an overeaction on my part. 
When in civilized countries, I tend to play my part in the dance of the 'moronic bureaucrats' very well.

As my friend said: you can't have one hand clapping.  

30May2011 This evening I stood in the edge of the park next to the biggest roundabout in the center of Saigon, waiting for a Vietnamese friend. Motorbikes, cars, busses, traffic, people, noise, lights, a gentle drizzling rainy season rain.
I stand up on the ledge of the flower bed so as to be clearly visible. 
On the other side of the flower bed a young University age Vietnamese lady walked past, smiling brighly. 
I smiled back and she wandered over to talk. 
Practice her English I assumed. 
"Where are you from ?" 
"Australia" 
"Melbourne or Sydney...?" she really tried hard to remember the names of those two big cities. 
Going through the "where are you from....?" routine usually makes me cringe. But the happy enthusiasm with which she spoke was disarming. Genuine and friendly. 
"What do you ...." 
"I teach Electronic Engineering....blah blah blah..." 
"What are you doing ? 
"Just playing" she says. I assume this to mean just wandering around to practice her English. 

People who claim to practice English sometimes use it a front to sell tours or gems or whatever schemes. 


What strikes me most about her is that is she is genuine. 
I'm actually shocked that complete stanger, would simply talk to another complete stranger just like that. 
She tells me in all earnestness that she wants to learn Italian but has trouble finding people to practice with. 
My friend now arrives. On a piece of paper, I write the name the Couchsurfing site where Vietnamese and foreigners meet in a safe, monitored space. It is for people to stay with others on their floor or couches and it has a nice informal social group in most major cities. 
She might find italian or other other language exhange there. 

What surprised me most was the simple human trust, not stupid naivety, but trust in herself, to judge who to talk to. The guts to talk to a total stranger. 
 
I don't think it has much to do with me, - thogh then again I have noticed that even in a long line of people, beggars will often magnetically gravitate to me. Why ? Who knows.
As we talked all the Western warnings about strangers whizzed through my mind. I simply couldn't imagine his happening in my home town. I'm used to a guarded scowl on the face of strangers and someone asking me the time, makes me suspicious. 
 
I'm reminded of the stuff others like Alastair Humphreys  said 
I rode right across Europe and into the Middle East. Far from being the dangerous place I had always seen on the TV News, people waved to me as I passed, families invited me to stay the night in their homes or join them for a meal. I learned a crucial lesson about the world during those hot, dusty weeks: whatever governments are shouting angrily about, whatever extreme sections of society may be doing, the vast majority of people on Earth are good, ordinary people just like you and I. I rode through 60 countries on my circumnavigation, and in each country this held true. The world is, by and large, a good place. Traveling opened my eyes to that. from: Alastair Humphreys writing about adventure
After writing the above blog  "Hey we are humans first.... human warmth of Vietnam" this is another one of 'those confirmations'.



  

the secret is: adults don't exist

2011-05-24T23:47:00.000+10:00

Today I went for dinner with a colleague, her little 8 year old daughter and her grandmother. 

She told me something her daughter discovered. 

"There are no adults. They don't exist. They are really all children."

Out of the mouth of babes..... 

I'm totally with her on that.

33 years later

2011-04-30T18:38:00.006+10:00


30Apr11 Saigon

Went for a 'get me outtahere' drive today -
just took the motorbike and drove out East, following my gut instinct and curiosity,
over bridges and rivers, and down into almost empty land
lots of nature, trees, palms, and everywhere rubble and houses that had been bulldozed and demolished.

driving further I ended up directly opposite the fancy main street of Saigon, on the other side of of ther river. There was the Majestic Hotel.

On this side it was a slow , forgotten village, barbed wire for land that would be developed.
old men on motorbikes,
sleepy town,
dogs in the sun

women in the market looking at the foreigner on his motorbike.
Driving along the riverside, now on the other side are container ships, wharfs, and on my kids swim, 90% of the houses are knocked down,
ready for mega development.

There is something about this place,
the freedom, the motorbike, the space, and the slow pace of life here, and just across the river, the hi tech, super intense Saigon.
the line from Hotel CAlifornia come into my mind.

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell

but it is more than that,
the atmophere the sunlight,and the knowledge that I'm free,
I feel like I used to feel at eighteen, travelling in SE Asia, the world to explore,
full of possibilities,
the invisible bars of fear had not hemmed me in quite as much.

And now at age fifety one, , I remember this time and that same feeling comes back to me. It feels like a HUGE circle has closed.
33 years later, still trecking through Asia, exploring life,
nothing much has changed.
Full of questions
almost the same questions,
lots more experience.
but most of all an excitement about life and love of the adventure of it.
I've stepped out of the Hive, out of the organized implicity, asssumed, fears of what 'one should do' what 'one should worry about' and 'what is peer acceptable behaviour'. Fuckit all.

then it's back to central Saigon, cool airconditioned cafe with Yoghurt fruit salad and wireless internet, to send this by email.
Heiko

bootstrapping your education: do it yourself English in Vietnam

2011-04-29T16:21:00.000+10:00

I went to the Tango juice bar & cafe the other day.

I was greeted by a young university student working as a waitress. Her English was good and different.

She spoke fluently, colloquial natural English.

It was too natural to come from an "institution". She either spent time overseas, had a foreign boyfriend or something else...

I was curious.

"where did you learn English ?" - I like to ask this.

"By myself."

"You mean you didn't go to an English School ? "

"Yes." She looks a little hesitant, as though it was bad to admit this.

"Wow, your English is great. How did you teach yourself."

"Movies. I listen and repeat whatever I hear."

We chat some more.

Turns out she studies in English books like the "The Seven habits of successful people...".

She asks customers what the difference between five star and this Cafe is in terms of service.

Her study area is Hospitality.

At home she has paper and notes of English words everywhere.

All this is self discovered.

She does not have the funds for expensive English Schools. It's not the piece of paper she needs it's the ability.

So she gets it.

Herself.

Movies, books, practicing with foreign customers in the cafe.

Whatever way she can.

She is not the only one.

I've since met others, who do the same.

There are English conversation clubs all over Saigon.

Before I leave she asks my name.

She's called Nhi.

I can't imagine this level of informal exchange in a Western context. Maybe that's just me.

And I haven't seen this kind of self motivation in many other places.

Vietnam impresses me.

the humanness of Vietnam: Nutella Baguette

2011-03-12T11:13:00.001+11:00

Saigon District 1, Feb 2011

There is a place where they  have soup and baguettes even at midnight.
I have Nutella at home, all I need is a baguette and the walk will do me good.
I get my baguette at the end of Nguyen Du street for 3000 Dong (15cents AUD) and turn back along Ly Tu Trong Street, opposite Norfolk Mansion. It's 10:30pm. 

No one walks on my side of the street, just a lady dressed like a housewife walks in front of me.
"Hello"
"Hello"
"I come with you."
"I don't think  so"
"why not?"
"--------no answer---------"
"I'm hungry."
blah blah blah etc...

"Stomach small"
"I'll buy you a meal, but no money"
"Ok"
we walk some more.
"I come with you"

"No I don't think so"She is mid 30's nice looking, normal lady. I'm surprised she acts like this.  

"why"
"--------no answer---------"

"why"

"--------no answer---------"
"why"

"--------no answer---------"
"why you don't want me"

"--------no answer---------"
"I'm hungry."

Fine, let's see if she is really hungry. I pull out my baguette, give it to her. 

She takes it. No inhibition.
"Hang on", I take the baguette back and break off a bit for myself. "I'm hungry too"
She takes back the rest.
Well there goes my Nutella baguette, oh well....

We kind of go the same direction.
She holds up her bit of baguette, "very good"
I give her a thumbs up...
She walks along on the other side of the road and eats the baguette, we are heading in the same direction.
I duck into a convenience store. 


we part ways...

21Feb11, Saigon


Yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control.
 It begins with your family, but soon it comes around to your soul.
 Well I've been where you're hanging, I think I can see how you're pinned:
 When you're not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you've sinned.
---- Leonard Cohen, - Sisters of Mercy
 

success stinks VS sour grapes

2011-03-04T12:53:00.002+11:00

I'm a small time blogger, "and ah'm jes' doin' ma thang dude..."

And like all bloggers "I wanna get bigger, yea ....!!! "

I want lotsa people to read my shit ! 

I wanna see ma name up in lights ! Yea!!!

I looked around the blogosphere and I saw those successful bloggers, 

with their  HUGE traffic ratings on Google analytics. 

 I'm jealous. 

I looked a little closer then

what was this glitz and ritz ? 

what about those ads that clutter up the space ? 

free ipod giveaways ? 

what's going on here ? 

Is this a shopfront or a blog ?  

it's corporate tactics, 

its 'win this, and win that' kinda shit, 
carefully crafted, cleverly designed, for consumer maximization, 

that's just commercialization 

the hippy has sold out to the corporation

money talks 

if successful blogging means 

- "enter now to win this...and win dat..." 
- flashing ads

- glitzy and ritzy websites 

- free this and free that and "hurry and enter now to win some crap...." 

no, thanks, that's not what I'm aiming at. 

I'm not at those heights (yet),

Now I'm a quiet little blogger 

Of course I wanna be read by millions...  

but my way: 

no pushing  

no ads to suck you into my site

no ipod giveaways for you to win, nothin'to enter, nothing to get for free. 

read my stuff 'cause you like it 

or don't 

that's it. 

if success is 

Sea gulls fighting over bread crumbs, 

Monkeys fighting over bananas, 

I'll go another way... . 

       Sour grapes ? 

ask me in 10 years... when I'm big and famous....doing it my way, 

with no ads, no give aways, no greed based enticements...just good stuff for what it is.... 

It might look homely and dorky and a bit messy... 

and  it won't be everyone's cuppa tea... 

oh well, C'est la vie.. :-) 

-- wow this has turned into a manifesto of sorts. hm.....

###  references: some of my thoughts were shaped by the writings below: or more precisely: I found confirmation for my views in the writings of others and then had the courage to say it :-)  

Recently I found myself at a Hindu temple in Darjeeling (India), surrounded by monkeys who displayed behavior not unlike that of members of my own race. The strong bullied the weak, the old were teased by the young. And mothers cared for and protected their children.
Life is thus. So it always has been. So it will probably always be. When it comes down to it, we are but a strange tribe of monkeys fighting over bananas.
from http://www.ruby-sapphire.com/buying-gems-at-the-source-dicks-law.htm

on the street - Saigon

2011-03-03T17:32:00.003+11:00

---o(O)o---

You know how some people leave a SUBJECTIVE  impression on you ?  

                        ---o(O)o---

By the wall, on the footpath, sits a Vietnamese woman, about 25 years old. 

Her hair is all over the place, she has no shoes, her clothes are rags. An old empty bag lies next to her on the ground. The skin colour of her feet and ankles tells me she hasn't had a shower for a long time.  

It's VERY unusual to see this in Saigon. 

I slow down in case she asks for help, but she is in a world of her own. 

"Hm... give her something ? 

Stop being such a bloddy  doooooo gooder Haiko  !! 

Just keep going, you can't be helping strays and waifs all over the place."  

Looking back I see a Vietnamese man stop and give her some money.

I walk back the way I have just come and order a baguette from the stand on the road. A baguette with pate and meat and all vegies they put inside. 

Walking past her for the third time I hold out the baguette to her. 

She stares at it for a few seconds. 

I'm feeling silly, she doesn't want it. Oh well. It's my issue. 

Then she looks up at me, and her hand comes out. she takes the bread and very carefully puts it on the ground for later. 

Fine. 

I leave. 

End of story ? 

Well sort of.

                   ---o(O)o---

You know how some poeple leave a SUBJECTIVE  impression on you ? 

They have a personality, 

A flavour, a colour a  taste all their own. 

You  walk away and their character lingers inside you. 

Well  that's what happened with this lady. 

She reached out for the baguette, and her attitude, her energy, her personality was all in that simple action. 

It was not a bad impression, quite light, nice, gentle and fierce, smart and intelligent.  

Come to think of it, she reminds me of one of the characters in one of the stories I'm writing. Just a little. 

How come a meeting of 1O seconds  leaves a bigger impression of her personality than people I've met for hours or weeks ? 

Strange....

interesting.... 

Saigon bus

2011-03-03T16:36:00.005+11:00

Looking over the big roundabout near Ben Thank Market Feb2011

When your ride a motorbike there is the danger that your right hand pulls too hard on the throttle. 

Your hand  is still on the handlebar throttle as the bike jumps forward. 

That makes the throttle go on harder,

the bike jumps more, 

the throttle opens up more etc... and we get the jumping bike effect. 

Like a bucking horse. 

On a 50cc bike that is not such a problem. On bigger bikes it can be. 

Because of the jumping bike effect  I have a personal rule to always always keep my right foot ready for braking on the foot brake. To never ever drive without the foot ready to brake. 

Today I broke my rule. 

There are petrol stations on the HUGE roundabout in Saigon, south of the Ben Thanh market. 

I filled up with petrol and pulled out with my little bike. 

I eased out of the petrol station, with just one hand on the throttle and feet hanging loose. 

The bike did the bucking horse thing. 

Right close to an oncoming bus. 

The bus slowed down, I veered away and all was fine.

I scared myself a bit.
I felt like an idiot, I felt small and stupid.
I expected a tirade of abuse. 

Now in Australia I'd definitely get honking and abuse and shouting and head shaking and dark looks from the bus drivers. 

In Vietnam I got a laughing bus driver, open smile, no anger. 

Wow.
Anything, anytime, are the rules of the road here.  

How the hell do you thank someone high up in bus, with traffic noise and in a foreign language ? 

I folded my hands in a prayer gesture and bowed to the driver. 

It is what people in Thailand would do. 

And everyone can get the meaning of it, no matter what language. 

We look at each other again laugh and drive off.

A Vietnamese friend wrote:
Because you are a foreigner. If it was me, he would have yelled the hell at me - Ph 

Why do we worry about things that are totally unlikely and yet we all brave the much more dangerous daily traffic in the cities ?  

tears

2011-02-27T15:40:00.001+11:00

TET 2011, Ly Thu Trong

It's late, 10pm, an old woman sits on the footpath, next to a tree. 
She is holding a sleeping eight year old boy across her lap.
Something is wrong. 
I take another look, tears are rolling down her face. 
She is dressed in simple clothes, old and nothing fancy. 
She is crying openly, does not care who  sees. 
There are no people passing only cars and motorbikes with bright glaring lights.
I stop, embarrassed.
What to do ? 
I give her some  money. 
She hardly notices, but then  takes it. 
It makes no difference to her, but I don't know what else to do. 

Ten minutes later I walk past her again, on the way to La Fenetre Soleil. She is still there, crying.  
I stop, put my hand on her shoulder, say a few words.  Move on. 
Later I wonder, what else I could have done ? 
"You could have sat beside her, held put a hand on her shoulder and just been there. Who cares about language at a time like that ?"
But I was too inhibited for that... money is all I could think of.... until after she was gone .... 
Was the boy alright, he looked like he was sleeping, but maybe he was sick ? 
I wasn't fast enough on my feet. 
hm........next time my friend, remember, let your heart speak.... 

 9Feb11 Ly Tu Trong street, Saigon, D1,

  

the humanness of Vietnam: Thumbs up + smile :-)

2011-02-27T15:27:00.001+11:00

Saigon 2011 January, typical traffic

Riding in traffic, swimming in a sea of motorbikes,  surrounded by motorbikes, 

I'm one of them, one of hundreds, inching forward, grabbing that bit of space, 

chugging along, impassive face, aware all around. . 
A tall young woman, sitting high up at the back of a bike, passes me and turns around, bright smile on her face. She gives me a big thumbs up sign, me the foreigner on his on his 50cc Honda Cub bike. 

I feel accepted. 

I feel part of the place. 

For a moment I see life from the vantage of the majority of Vietnamese in Saigon.  

 10Feb11 Saigon, Le Loi Street D1. 

I'm wanted at the traffic-jam
They're saving me a seat
I'm what I am, and what I am
Is back on Boogie Street...

- Leonard Cohen

Shoes n Spirit House - was someone listening ?

2011-02-26T15:56:00.003+11:00

Hotel lobby with spirit house on the right - shoes were on the right not far from it - Feb2011

At the hotel where I stay the lady who runs it has a small spirit house, altar, by the reception desk at floor level. 
 not far away from  it they put all the shoes for the guests in row by the wall on the floor. 
It's been like this for years. 
Ever since I arrived I thought it was not a good thing to have the shoes  near the altar of the spirit house, (its an Asian thing, but shoes and  feet and spiritual stuff don't mix well in Asia) 

I always kind of appologized to the spirit house, kept my shoes far away and was  respectful.  

Today I returned from my morning errands and the shoes were gone, all of them.  
the manager lady has moved them all by the door, on the opposite wall, closer to the door and far away from spirit house. 

She speaks no English, I speak no Vietnamese.  
I never said anything about the shoes and spirit house. 
After she moved them I did the thumbs up and we communicated in sign  language. It was clear she had moved them to show respect to the spirit  house. 

I sometimes get these kinds of things where i think of something, wonder  about it should be done better, or differently and then suddenly it  happens.  
I guess I'm picking up on the things about to change, tuning into it or whatever. 

 

 

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....' - Leonard Cohen

Sometimes             the threads on the loom suggest the picture to come. 
Then we know             that our children-to-be Hope for us in the Bardo. 
For them we weave             until our arms grow tired. 
                         -- The years of Rice and Salt - by Kim Stanley Robinson

Surgery under local anaesthetic  in Burma by the mobile Surgeon Dr Naga 

the value of first aid - VS feeling useless

2011-02-25T21:32:00.000+11:00

Saigon going from D7 to D1:

25Feb11 driving home today man on bridge, lying in heat, blood down his face, big bump on back of head.
I stop to feel his pulse.
normal, strong, about 60/min.
no one knows what to do, they all wait for the ambulance.
they mark the road with the outline of the bike,
they leave him in the heat.

do I move him, ?
do I put his feet higher than his head ? no he has head injury,
I have no idea, I do nothing.

I feel useless I leave.

later I remember: unconscious people can feel and hear soothing kind presence, even if I can DO nothing I could be there and just hold his arm. Provide shade. Check his breathing...
hm....
I hope there is no next time... but if so.... then next time

Unique temple in Saigon

2011-02-16T04:08:00.000+11:00

Unique temple in saigon

Half the face is just iron mesh, the other half has concrete and looks like a Buddha.
It's the face that towers over the low restaurants at the intersection.
Every morning I've seen it.
Every morning I mean to go and check it out.

Today I did (15Feb11).

It's hot, the atmosphere is surreal, the temple looks like a home made structure, by someone with talent and ideas.

it all sits on a convoluted concrete structure

a face sits in the garden.....

a cave houses a monk....

if you look closely at the main temple, you can find all sorts of surprises high up....

I circled around all the way to the street view....

and found an assembly of deities inside.....

Tea and conversation with the priest....

and a tour of the temple inside

an ancient energy has sought refuge here.... outside high rise buildings go up, building is furious and unrelenting... where did this place come from ?

The garden holds more surprises

playfulness done very well, this is a temple unique and special that expresses it's creator's character.

A crowd watches you - as you watch them.

and it's all hidden, in plain view,

along an ordinary looking road and near a small turn off...

if you feel hungry, these guys make a great Phoe soup

The temple reminds me of Thailand, the Isaarn area, of the North East, same imagination, same free form, same ancient feel to it.

Lovely surprise, just a short walk from my corporate air-conditioned networked office.
Where is it ? On a very busy road going district 7

don't trust bad news

2010-06-28T01:32:00.003+10:00

Can Tho 25Jun10

As we checked in at Hanoi airport the lady at the counter told us our plane to Da Nang would be delayed by 1.5 hours.
The plane would leave at 2pm instead of 12:30.
"OK?" she asked me.  
"Ok!" - what else could I say ? 
 What if I told her "Sorry, not ok, please fly the plane on time !?"

Of course I said nothing out loud. 
"Vietnamese airlines will provide free lunch at the Nasco restaurant" she told us. 
She wrote something on our boarding passes to let use collect our free lunches. 

My travelling companion and I settled down for a long wait. 
I pulled out the old laptop, found a wireless network and logged in (I just love the way Vietnam is wired, all hotels, airports everywhere, wireless internet is standard, no stuffing around with credit card payments and time limits, and its free). 

We decided to wait until later with lunch. 

Stange, there seemed to be another flight to Da Nang as well, and that flight seemed to leave at 12:30, exactly the same time our original flight was supposed to leave. 
I listened again, the flight  code ended in the number nine, our flight code ended in the number nine. This was too much of a coincidence. 
I checked my boarding pass. 
"S***t !" this was our flight, leaving at the original time after all. 

We sat in the plane ready for takeoff by 12:30. 

Seventeen passengers were missing, they had wandered off, believing they had time because of the delay. 
Now we had to wait for the people who had trusted the bad news. 
Ironic, we were delayed because people believed there would be a delay. 

After 10 mins a whole group of people entered and we were ready. 

Usually a delay is unexpected and drags on and on. I once spent 6 hours in a plane waiting for take off, every hour we were told it would be another hour. 

This time the delay was not required, we just took off as per normal. 
 So don't always trust bad news, be cynical about cynicism   :-) 

Over Southern Vietnam, Mekong Delta June2010- TurboProp ATR72

 

The 'safe' adventure - or - User Interfaces DO matter

2010-06-28T00:47:00.003+10:00

Safe with bad user interface

I was in a hurry.

I typed in the standard four digit code I always use and shut the door of the safe.

I pressed "Lock" and heard the hum of the motor drive the steel bolt of the door across and seal the door.

Inside was my "contains everything" laptop and a small Eee PC.

I raced out of the door and down to the lobby and met my fellow traveller, colleague and friend MM.

We had just checked in, done the Shave S*** and Shower routine and had just one thought on our minds: FOOD!.

We found a nice restaurant, good food. We were famished.

After the first main course I ordered another one and french fries. Then a third main course.  They were  looking at me. MM had two main courses. 

Back in the hotel room I was ready to do some more work on my laptop.

I entered my usual code and got "ERR"

I tried again. - ERR

Hmmmm ..... 

This safe didn't ask you to type the number twice, just enter any four digit number and slam  the door shut and it was locked.

The only problem was: if you mistyped the number and then could not remember what you typed.

Hmmm.....  

I must have mistyped the number when I shut the safe. 

This is the reason most safes and passwords on websites ask you to type it twice. In case you made a mistake the first time.

I tried all combinations I could think of.

Nothing.

Araggghhhh!!!!!!

It's a VERY frustrating feeling when your stuff is locked in a steel box and you can't get it.

You want to tear the safe out of the wall and smash it.

Of course the contents would die as well... arrghhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

I tried and tried.

Then the safe spat the dummy. It refused to let me try anymore.

The number 28 appeared.

I kept trying, the number 28  was still there.

Bugger, now I 've done it. 

After a while I tried again.

The number was now 26.

After a while I tried again.

The number was now 23

"Duhhhhh !  I got it !

I was locked out and the safe was counting down... 

Just that day I had wondered what the hotels would do if anyone ever did lock a safe and could not remember the code. Would they have some simple key that every room service girl knew or would they call some specialist ?

They called a specialist.

A Vietnamese technician came round to unlock the safe.

He tried for a while, but no success.

The countdown clock started again.

We were locked out for another 28 minutes.

After 28 minutes he tried again. He has special device the plugs into the OS2 port at the front.

Eventually the door opens

Hallelujah.... !!!!!!!

From now on I will test every safe - lock it and unlock it when it's empty, before putting anything into it.

Of course: with better user interface software all this would not have happened. 
Of course with more thought and care and less hurry and silliness on my part this would not have happened. 

It could still happen of course, but not as likely.

My online bank account required me to type my  name and password twice. That's standard practice.

For some strange reason when I set up my account I mistyped my name twice. Both times in exactly the same way.

Now every time  I use that account I have mistype my own name to get in.

So nothing is proof against fools. 
'errhuuummm!' 

---(o)--- 

I always wonder: we humans try to make things safer, and it makes life more complicated. 

Is that really worth it ?

We set up people to protect us from other people.

But WHO WATCHES THE WATCHERS ?

Who watches those who are supposed to protect us ?

What if they turn bad, who  protects us from them ?

I like things simple (but I'm complicated).

Maybe that's why I like developing countries, they have not reached the ridiculous complexity of developed countries, life is still clear and manageable and living there I don't feel like a part of a huge machine.

The people seem more real, more empowered, strange to say.  

It is chaotic and seems more dangerous and all that.

Sure.

It's just personal preference I guess.

Cafe 8, Hanoi, near St Joesph's Cathedral

relating to other expats - musings about this topic

2010-06-26T19:57:00.004+10:00

Egypt, Cairo, taxi, Dec2008

I'm visiting Vietnam for two weeks, for work. 

The plan is for me to work and live in Saigon (HCMC), starting at the end of 2010. 

A mate of mine wrote   "Getting a grip on HCM? Looking for long term place to live? I'm sure  you'll steer well clear of the expats." 

It made me think about how do I relate to expats when " I IS one 'o dem MESELF ?" 

I know where I want to live in Saigon, I have the area sorted, just need to find the flat or room.

Might live with a Vietnamese family if I can get my own space,  else will get a flat. 

Re other expats: I found I cannot  ignore other expats,in fact I don't want to, but I don't want to submerge myself into  them either. I need other expats, they can help in ways no others can  - its a kind of 'we are all in this  together' thing,  and the ship will only survive if we all help each other. I'm overstating the point of course. 
It's a  balance thing. 
But there is a need for a kind of support only other expats can give. 

Sometimes I talk to students who are lost and have NO connection to their own people in Australia. 

They have cut all  ties with their own country men and they get into trouble, have difficulty coping. 

I suggest, "ask one of your  countrymen, they will know how to deal with this multicultural relationship - how to get visas,  work, deal with this in your culture etc... " 

Because I live in Australia, there are always things I have no idea  about that only their own people know. 
     Other students get too much into their own people and hide there, their  English does not improve and they don't have friends outside their own  culture. They live in a ghetto.
I've done that too. Work pressure makes it harder to leave the ghetto.

Hmmm....... 

Now that I think about it again: he key is who you live with. 
If you live with your own people (other expats) you don't mingle with the  local culture as much. That applies to expats in SE Asia and to overseas  students in Australia. 
The best balance I've seen was when a Lao student lived with an Aussie flatmate. She still kept up her connection to other Lao as part of her wider circle of  friends, but she did not live with them, talk Lao at home, socialize with only her own people. 

However: each person is different and what is right for one is not right  for another. 
Some people need to hide in the womb till they are ready to emerge,  others need to leave all their own culture behind and go solo into the  jungle. The Colonel Kurtz types I guess. 
And then these things change over time as well.

It is not unusual for newcomers, new travellers to fall totally head over heels in love with a new country and culture and go feral and disappear.

The joys of expat lifestyle is discussed here http://heikorudolph.blogspot.com/2009/01/joys-of-expat-lifestyle.html 

I wrote this blog to give an idea of the  positive and negatives of each choice. 

Some of my best friendships have been with expats while living in Japan, Laos, Thailand, visiting Taipei, and Saigon.  


Sep2008

offer too good to refuse

2010-06-15T11:19:00.003+10:00

Restaurant mirror, KL, Brickfields

I just knew, the minute I saw his face. 
I was totally one hundred percent sure he'd make me an offer. 
I just got into the taxi, at Royal Parade, outside my flat, "Spencer street. Southern Cross station," and deliberately I added,"skybus station."

I was still rummaging around, arranging my two backpacks in the crammed space between my long legs and the front seat. I hadn't had a chance to look at the driver's face. 
When I did I was sure.
"You going to Geelong ?" he asked me. 
'He's circling to eliminate clear no-goers,' I thought, 'there's no point to show his hand until he has to, clever.' 
"No. Tulla. Tullamarine airport." I tell him and wait for it. I'm sure it'll come. 
'If I'm right, he'll go for this and come out with it' I tell myself. 
"Why ?" he asks me, "we are in Brunswick, you spend 12, 15 dollars going to Skybus. Pay Skybus. Why not go to Airport from here ?" 
There it was ! Out in the open !


I have always wondered why no taxi driver ever tried this one on me. Everytime I took a cab to the Skybus I wondered. That's why I always mentioned the Skybus, never just Southern Cross Station.


It looked like I had found my man. 
The others just did what I said. Zombie like they drove cabs, resentment of their situation apparent in every movement. 
This guy was different. 
He was still alive. 
I felt I was in SE Asia already. 
A good omen, I told myself. 


"From here to Southern Cross is only ten dollars," I told him, "I've done this many times." 
"But not so far to airport," he replied, " I don't take toll road, I go up Brunswick and Bell street then into freeway." 
"Yea, I know that one," I tell him, " you mean Melville road." 


My ego wants to make sure he realizes that I'm an old hand at this and know my geography, so no point to bullshit me.
"No, not ....ahh..yes...yes... Melville Road." 
"Then left into Bell street and right into the freeway after the tollway section," I complete the description.
"Yes." 
"How much is that ?" I ask him. 
"Only $28 or so." 
The airport bus is $17, the taxi to the bus stop is going to be 10 or 11. 


The offer he's making me is attractive. 
"No way," I look at him, laughing, "it's more than that. Give me a fixed price. Turn off the meter." 
"Can't do that," he shakes his head.
He's quiet for a while. 
"Ok, I turn the meter off at 28 dollars," he thinks another moment, "thirty dollars, we've been driving to the city already," he adds. 


It's amazing how many thoughts can go through one's mind in a spit second. I remember AJ's theory of how the first steps in anything set the tone. In a company the first few people set the tone. No matter how big the company gets, it's go the fingerprints and character of those founders ghosting around in it forever. I like AJ's theory. 


This is the start of my journey to Kuala Lumpur, part of a quest, part of another story.
Do I want to be bloody minded about a few bucks here and there ? 
How do I want to start this journey ? 
What direction do I want to give this trip ?
"Ok. If you turn the meter off at thirty dollars, lets go." 
We do a U turn and off we go the path I'd outlined. 
I'm a little surprised at myself. 'What if he doesn't stick to the deal ?'
'The world won't end' I calm myself. I can live with it. So I pay a little more, and I learn something. 
Fine. 
But I trust him. I feel that he's honest. 


"Good for me, good for you," he tells me as we turn off Royal Parade into Brunswick Road. 
"You have comfortable ride," he continues, "I have good fare to airport." 
"I go shortest way," he tells me as we drive, "one passenger isn't going to make me rich." 
"No, that's true," I agree. 
"Whats a few dollars here and there ?" he asks me, "doesn't make big difference."
'True' I think, I've often thought the same. 'What's the point of stressing and straining like crazy for that extra 10% ? If I really want seriously more money I'd have to change my job, do a business, do something totally different. This guy understands that.'


I like his philosophy. 
"I tell you truth," he tells me, "other drivers tell you, 'go freeway', pay tollway far, another four dollars. Its' not faster."
"No, you're right," I tell him, " I used to drive taxis, and they told us that freeways are not really faster unless it's exactly the direction you want to go. Too much time and effort getting on and off them. They were right. It's easier just to go slower and the direct way." 
"Yes," he agrees," you drive fast, you feel you go fast, but you take time to get there, time to get out." 


Exactly. I'm happy to have found someone who understands this.
it just fell like this, by 'chance'
Not a big thing, I know that, but I'm happy. 
I'm warm, I don't have to listen to the airport bus's taped messages, advertising and the anally retentive safety warnings. 
And I don't like that UV blue light they have at night on the bus.  


"How many miles on the tacho ?" I ask him. 
He mumbles something, not sure why I ask. 
I tell him about a taxi I took which had 950,000Km on the meter, still with the same engine. 
The driver told me the car was on the road 24/7, the engine never cooled down. 
"This car, not like that. I drive it until 12 o'clock. I'm not young, I'm 54," he tells me.
"What's the point of a few more dollars, if you get sick ? The young guys they can drive until 5 o'clock," he adds. 
We are on the freeway no, the non toll way part. 
The meter gets to $30. I point to it. He turns it off.
The computer dispatch panel beeps. 


"When I drove cabs in 1983 they didn't have computer dispatches," I tell him, "I had to be fast on the radio button, but they always gave the jobs to the old guys. I didn't bother much with radio work then." 
"Nothing's changed," he tells me, "The good jobs go to the staff cars and people they know." 
"Yea," I agree," that's why I used to just cruise. I loved to just keep moving, check out the places where I thought people would be." 
"That's the way you do it. If you drove now, you be a good taxi driver," he tells me. 
I laugh, "Yes, I liked the freedom, the choice to go where I wanted, where I thought I might find work." 
"I used to drive while doing my Grad Dip. After lectures, I wandered down the Astoria depot and get the oldest most beaten up depot cars. Kingswoods that leaned to one side and floated all over the road in 'S' curves." 
'....and the reason you didn't do radio work was because you hate competing, hate fighting others...' my little voice of honesty tells me. 


The little voice is right. I loved  cruising, and I avoided the messy business of fighting for radio work, it reminded me of sea gulls fighting for bread crumbs.
Ugly.
No thanks. 
I know every job has that competitive part, and every job I've had I've run from the sea gull bits. 
'One day I'll join in and ...' ..that thought always scares me, I might be too good at it, do too much damage... well perhaps one day.... .

"Do you own the car ?" I ask. 
"No, we lease. Two people. He drive daytime, I drive night."

  
I've had trips in which the cabbie never said a word, never looked at me, just drove.  
I like this guy, and give him a tip that totally blows the hard negotiated economics out of the water.
For me, it's a donation at a temple.
A good omen.  

Selling the Buddha

2010-06-15T11:10:00.000+10:00

Masala tea, - love it ! :-)

The rain is bucketing down. You would be soaked in 5 steps if you went out.
I didn't.
I had time.
When was the last time I didn't mind being delayed by nature ?
A while ago.

Everyone is waiting under shopfronts.

This is Kuala Lumpur, Brickfields, the Tamil/Indian center next to the huge Central station complex.

To use the waiting time, I decided to have my hair cut, back to a number #1.

Lest I forget.

It's amazing how many guys have shaved heads. I see them everywhere.
Never noticed it before.

Back in 1977 my mates and me almost were expelled from High School for doing that. Talk about being ahead of the times ;-)

After the haircut, the rain continues.

I order a Masala Tea in a restaurant and sit up near the entrance.
Going to wait it out.

A guy inside the restaurant waves at me and grins as though I was his best mate and he was happy to see me.

Never met the dude.
'Bit sus' I think, smile back and shake my head. I'll stay where I am.

I drink my masala tea. My eyes stray in his direction and he's smiling and motioning for me to join him.

No.

But I wonder, am I passing up one of the amazing travel stories, by being overly anally retentively cautious ?

'Whatever. I stay put.'

The rain stops, I pay and wander outside.

Mr Smiley pops up next to me, "I like English speaking people, they helped me for seven years when I had a hard time."

The bait dangles between us, waiting for me to ask him how and what.
It's too obvious so I don't.

But I am curious if my first gut reaction was accurate. So I let him walk beside me as we head for Central station.

"Where are you from ?"

"Australia, Melbourne."

"How long you been here ?"

'Too many questions, too fast,' I think.

"Arrive today." Not good policy to be that honest but I don't mind.

"How long you stay ?"

'Definitely too many questions,' he's not a real pro,' but let me see where this is going.'

"Oh a week or so, not sure," by now my Moroccan lessons have kicked in and I'm giving fuzzy and vague answers.
"Which hotel you say at ?"

'Ok that's way over the limit. No way am I going to tell you that.'
"Oh I forgot, have to check the itinerary..." I mumble.
A normal conversation would not accept such evasion. He accepts the vagueness. That's another sign he's after something else.

Time to go on the offensive.
"Where do you work, what do you do ?" I ask him.

"I work in the market. Morning market."

"What do you do there ?"

"I sell Buddha statues, little ones. I have small stall there."

"Really ? You sell Buddhas ? But you are... not Buddhist."

"Anyone can sell," he tells me.

"I like little Buddha statues. I have a few in my house." I tell him.

"Yes, people buy, I tell them to put flower to them. Bring luck."

Allright, I've figured out where he is coming from. I want to have it out and in the open.
I decide to grab the bull by the horns, save him time and effort to find some complicated way to try and sell me one.

"Show me. You got some ?" I ask.

He's a bit surprised, but he opens a bag he's been carrying and pulls out a fat laughing Buddha, Chinese style.

It's nice. A good souvenir.
I'm tired of playing a lonwinded game.

The Buddha at home

"I'll give you 10 Ringgit," I tell him. I surprise myself, that I have a clear and reasonable figure in mind, and that I push the whole transaction.

"Can't," he says,"it's good quality. Blessed by the temple."
'Yea, sure,' I think, but I say nothing.

He pulls out another two.

"Take a set, is very lucky."

"Its resin," I tell him, "it's injected plastic. Here look, you can see the marks of the file."

"Its specially blessed plastic."

I laugh. It's too funny.

"No, just one," I tell him, "ten Ringgit."

He realizes I'm not going to take more than one, and that the talk of blessedness is not making an impression.

"Fiveteen."

"Ok, fiveteen."

'What's five Ringgit ?' I think.

I pull out two ten Ringgit notes, but hold them.

"You got five ?" I ask him. Basic training says to see the change first.

He hasn't got five Ringgit.

I thought so. Bangkok taxi drivers never have correct change either. He reminds me of them.

"Fourteen." he tells me and shows me four one Ringgit notes.

I understand that he really means sixteen, not fourteen, can't be bothered telling him.

"Ok." I give him another ten Ringgit and take his four one Ringgit notes.

Deal is done.

He murmurs about "change money".

I had asked him about money changing earlier on, to sus him out.
'Time to get out of here,' I tell myself.

No point to pursue that one now.
It would not be a good exchange rate.

"I'm off to Central," I tell him and motion across the road.

He's happy enough.
His white smile is enormous. Very intense.

He looks genuinely happy and smiling.

"See ya," I call out as I cross the road to the median strip, "may the Buddha bless you,"I call out over my shoulder.

We both laugh, he walks off down the road and I change money at Central.
Best rate I found in KL.

So, I was right.
My first gut reaction about him was correct.

But it was fun and a good lesson.
Worth the 15 Ringgit and I got to keep the little Buddha as well.
It's a real souvenir now, something to remember.

He was just a guy making a living.
There are worse ways and and there are better ways.
Who's to say ?

the black cat at KL airport

2010-06-15T11:04:00.001+10:00


Sleeping cat, not healthy, is it still with us ?

An hour to kill before I have to go through passport control.

Too many poeple, too many trolleys.

I need to get out and do something.

Ok, check out the Tune Hotel, take a look.

"It's hot, humid. What's the point of walking to the Tune Hotel, you have to book it online anyway ?" I argued with myself.

But I went.

"Central ?" the guys at the bus stop ask.

"No,"I point ahead.

This is the main walkway to the busses, restaurants and Tune HOtel.

It's sweltering, I'm sweating already.

On my left is a sleeping black cat, quite young.

I take a closer look: it's really really skinny, and it's paws gummed up with infection, ears eaten away.

It looks on it's way out.

By the time I get to the Tune Hotel, I'm really hot and sweaty. It's clean, zen like in its simplicity. Everything from towels to aircon by the hour can be purchased. Prices are up front and no extra hidden charges. Unlike the swish places, where they charge by stealth.

"Breakfast is 55 Ringgit plus plus.."I was told when I asked at the Swish hotel.

"Plus plus ? what's plus plus ?"

"Oh, Value added tax, service charges...."

"Ok I get it. All that stuff." I wave it all away.

Ok well I know what to expect from a Tune Hotel now, a bit like the Formula One Hotels in Australia.

Might as well have lunch and take some food back for the cat, if it's still there and still alive.

I choose stuff the cat might like, egg, rice, fish and set a little bit of each on an old business card, hidden under a paper tissue.

Yes kitty is still there, still sleeping.


After the first dose of fish

I feel a bit self conscious, like some stupid do-gooder, or some idiot.

My time as a loon club member doing embarassing things on purpose helps me out now.

I put the business card next to her face.

Will she eat ? is she strong enough or too close to the other side already ?

"Meeeeeeeeowwwwwww"

She gets up, wobbles around and looks at the food.

The scientist in me watches and wonders what she'll go for, the egg, rice or fish ?

Fish.

Only fish.

All the fish.

Rats, I'll have to get some more now.

I hear people stop and talk about the crazy foreigner and the cat.

I feel selfconscious and silly. Stupid do gooder.

Here's this guy in a biz jacket feeding fish to a stray cat on the side of the walkway to the busses.

I've ignored the people who stopped wheeling their luggage cart and watch me, talking in some unknown language.

The cat is eating, the last of the fish. Mission accomplished 007.

I get up enough courage to look at the audience. An elderly Chinese couple are watching with fascination, smiling and talking to each other.

"your cat ?"

'My cat ?' I think, 'would anyone bring a cat on a trip and feed it outside like this ? Look at it, it's half dead and just skin and bones,' thoughts like that flash through my mind but I say nothing. They mean well.

I smile, "No, just found her here."

I took all the free bottles of water from the hotel, so now I have water to spare.

I pour some into the lid.

She doesn't drink but she starts to clean herself.

One side of her neck has no fur any more.

I leave to get more fish.

"Take away fish.“

“Rice ?”

“Just fish."

I get a white styrofoam container and a plastic fork.

“No, no bag,” tell the cook, “enough plastic already.”

The cat looked more lively as I left her, she might have wandered off by now. So I hurry back.

Still there.

She sees me coming and starts meowing.

Like a typical cat she gets in the way as I unpack the food, walking between my hands and brushing up against me.

I try not to think of what infections she has.

“Meoooowww!”

“Ok, Ok, just wait a bit.”

I pull all the meat off the fish with the plastic fork, spread it out on the hot concrete.

Flies gather from all around.

She starts eating.

Good.

One of the guys working on the busses comes over to watch.

He says something, I can't remember what.

He's interested though and he's watching me feed the cat.

Good.

I stand up and pull out a ten Ringgit note, give it to him.

"FOr the cat."

“No, no,” he backs off.

“For the cat,” I repeat and wave at her eating.

“Buy her some fish,” I point to the restaurant and then to the floor where the cat is busy.

He nods then, he's got the idea.

When I push the note back to him he accepts and smiles, he has totally understood.

Those guys work here, they are the best ones to take care of her.

That's the best I can do for her.

“Thank you,” he calls out after me.

He really looked pleased to be handed the responsibility for the cat.

He smiled from ear to ear.

And I'm happy to have found someone.

Much better than just walking off to catch my flight.

Brickfields, the Tamil area of Kuala Lumpur

2010-06-13T13:36:00.001+10:00

Check out at the buffet restaurant Brickfields
Brickfields, the Tamil area of  Kuala Lumpur (KL), 
smells of incense, strings of flowers hanging from stalls, 

Indian music blaring from  speakers, atmosphere is lively, noisy but unexpectedly I like it. 
Intense looking guys who give me polite gentle answers about "where are  the batu caves ? " how to do I go there ?"

All night flight from MELB, 

    Air asia be blessed, 
    thou makest the distant possible, 
    thou bridgest the cosy clubs of travel agents, 
    mixer of humanity be blessed, 
    en el padre i el spriritu santo... 
    Aaaaaaaaaaamen.... 
 
Nothing touristy here at Brickfields,
its all real. Old Tamil guys eating under trees in side streets, 
An Evangelical Zionist church around the corner, 
right behind it the Buddhist Maha Vihara (whatever that is, it's big  though)
An Ashram teaching third eye and kundalini awakening at the corner of  the side street. Statue of the 'master' in bronze in the middle. 
Brickfields 
Green energy efficient high rise office block going up on the opposite  side of the main road. 
KL's Sentral  (Central) Megacomplex train-bus-monorail station is next  to it all. 

I write this in a dark cool internet cafe. 
Young guys, playing games all day, Indian music beating from the  ceiling. 
Just off the plane, I'm headed for a swish place to stay, but this is my  first port of call in KL. 
I need to touch base, feel real, ground myself before I face the rest of  the city. 

So here I am in a dimly lit, cool, music filled filled internet cafe  writing this stuff. 

I'll see if the guy who sold me the pocket watch last year remembers me.  
Watch doesn't keep good time, went on strike after 7 weeks, but not his  fault. 
Luck of the draw. 
Ce'st la vie... 

Will head for my hotel soon. 
Luxury makes me nervous, it feels fake underneath it all. I've paid for  all those smiles and politeness. 
But I've decided to give it a bash. 
Why? 
No reason, just because I CAN, because life is short and I blow heaps of   $$$$'s on other stuff without thinking twice (two days ago $800 for a  new electrical switchboard in my flat, 300 for insurance, 700 for rego,  250 for electricity bill, 200 body corp fees, 800 for conference... and  so it goes on and on and on and on .... 
HEY!@@!!!!  
when's my turn ?!@*(## !
right NOW! 

so here I am ! he he he ) 

I'm 50 now, anything can happen anytime, 
Noticed my body isn't 30 anymore... 
who knows what happens in 5, 10 years.... 
can't save this kind of thing for the future. 
The "libido" of the "joie de vivre" might evaporate by then ... 
..so who knows what happens in 5 years. 

But I DO know what happens right NOW :-) 
LUNCH !
:-) 
Time for lunch, real Indian.

There  are no other tourists, no 'whiteys' or gringos here. 
Stuff isn't glitzy and polished and ritzy here, 
Its not for show or dazzlement, just sit down and eat .... 
Mostly everyone speaks English, if not, I just point at stuff, mime the  rest. 
.................
more later... 

--------------
********************

--------------

Ahhh...back from lunch. 
That was good. 
Went to a local restaurant next to the Crescent hotel. 

First time I went there I expected to be pointed to a table to order  stuff from a menu and to eat with cutlery. 
No way. 

Now I know the drill:
Grab orange plate - put banana leaf on plate. 
Help yourself from one of the buffets by the wall. 
HUGE range of stuff.
Rain in Brickfields
There is a Chinese Vegetarian buffet, a pure Indian buffet and others  I've not worked out yet. 

Sit down. 
Eat.
Use hands - sorry: use hand_.  Right hand. 
A guy will come round and look at your plate and write down what you owe  on a piece of paper he gives you to take to the cashier on the way out.  

A lady comes round and asks me about drinks.
"Drink ?"  
"Masala tea please." 
Masala tea  appears a minute later. 
Drinks are a separate business within the business. All the Indian  restaurants work that way. Don't know why. 

It's all low fuss, all self help, all designed to run smoothly. 
Food is GOOD. 
Cheap. Approximately 10 Ringgit ( AUD$3.50 ) + 5 Ringgit for two Masala  teas.

Ok - time to drop stuff at the swish place, then the Batu caves. 

-----------------------

I already have a SIM card for my phone, thanks to Air Asia: they sell  SIMs on board the plane, so you can hit the ground running. 
So you never get away from it all totally ...but that's ok, I need to  call a few people in KL. Melbourne people don't know the local number  :-) I didn't know it till I got off the plane. 

First time I was in Malaysia, 1978, the only way to find out information  was to ask other travellers at the backpackers in the evening. 

Letters took 2-3 weeks and were sent to Poste Restante   http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poste_restante 

Phone calls in those days cost the equivalent of one days travel budget  for ~3 minutes. About $35/minute by today's standards. 
"Hi Mum, Dad, I'm fine, in Kuala Lumpur." 
"Good, all fine here too." 
That's it. 
Was it less than 60 seconds ? 
55 seconds, great! 

If you are up for more reading: At the end of this email is a post from a  traveller who spent the last 3 years just travelling and working in IT  while on the road. 
---------------

Links for places mentioned above
Brickfields: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brickfields

Hotel Grand Crescent hotelgrandcrescent.com 

Travel - Kuala Lumpur:  
http://sites.google.com/site/heikorudolph/travel-kualalumpur

Poste Restante  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poste_restante
cheers

Heiko

Saigon shoe shine man... - middle class guilt... - life the universe and everything

2010-04-04T23:02:00.004+10:00

The rich guy. At Fanny's Café, Saigon CBD.

"Excuse me Sir, Shoe shine ?"     

"Ten thousand."
  

My usual reaction has always been, NO!, mixed with a healthy dose of annoyance that I was being targeted, pested and seen as a rich tourist. Add to that a touch of guilt.

After all if you give in to 'them' they'll pester you all the more. 

But then there was that touch of guilt. 

Today I realized, I was rich. 

I wasn't travelling as a backpacker. 

I had enough money. I was sitting at Fanny's ice cream palour and Café spending 30,000 Dong for a ball of ice cream. 

Yea sure compared to the pundits of superannuation in-security back home I was poor. 

I didn't have the AUD $800,000 I needed for comfortable retirement. 

I wasn't even trying for it. 
My contemporaries had houses and investment portfolios, I made $122 daytrading in shares in 4 weeks.  

But compared to the guy asking to polish my shoes, I was unbelievably wealthy. I have money, knowledge, degrees, abilities, experience, and friends and family who would support me in tough times. 

I have nothing to worry about.

Top left corner: my sandals being polished.

But what got me today were two things: 

1) I realized how much I had. He was humble. I felt no resentment from him. I'd be damn resentful if I had to work as a shoe shine boy.

2) I'm 50. I'm not going to be here forever. I'm mortal. 

Life is NOW!. 

I didn't care about keeping up some great system of "don't give in to 'them' ". 

I didn't care about "it won't solve the problem at its deepest root"

No it won't. 

So I gave him my sandals. Old worn leather Teva sandals. 

He spent a long time on them, polishing them better then they ever been polished. 

"Sir...."

"Thanks they look great"

I paid him, 10,000 Dong and some extra. 

I'm not used to be being called Sir.  

"Who is he calling Sir ? Why ? I'm not a 'sir' I'm just an average scared little kid backpacking round the world." 

There's a little boy, inside me, an eighteen year old backpacker who hasn't grown up yet. 

The world is too big for me to fix it all, this is all I could do.
Let Gandhi and the heros do their stuff, I don't worry about big system, big picture anymore. 
The Universe is smart enough to work it out. 
I just gotta do what I can NOW. However small that is. 

Saigon, 4Apr10 Easter Sunday. 

The view from the office desk:
Working at Fanny's Café, Saigon, CBD.

KL taxi driver - a la natural - a contented man

2010-02-07T09:35:00.004+11:00

It's pissing down with rain, a real tropical rain storm, buckets of water coming down. It's warm, this is KL (=Kuala Lumpur - Malaysians LOVE TLA's). We are undercover at a petrol station.

People on motorbikes flock to the petrol station to stay dry and wait it out.

A friend and I were on the way to KL Menara, the tall Lookout and TV communications tower overlooking the whole city.

Above: sign in a KL taxi,

kissing not allowed

The traffic is crawling along, its 5pm and rush hour.

I spot an empty cab, and we make a run for it.

The driver is smiles and beckons us in.

The car inside looks old , loved and well used like a favourite pair of shoes.

The driver smiles and nods as we give him the address of the hotel up the road.

We're happy to be out of the rain.

Traffic crawls slowly along, the windows are open and he has a cigarette, one of those nice smelling clover cigarettes.

Sitting back, making conversation, "Driving Taxis is a tough job".

"No, not hard," the driver turns his head and smiles at us.

Uh... what do I say to that ?

I had tried to sympathize and I had I assumed every taxi driver would feel their job was hard.

"I get to travel round," he adds.

"What time did you start this morning ?"

"Six. I'm going home now, after I drop you two".

"Wow, 12 hours a day"

" I meet my friends for two hours every day for lunch, we chat and talk".

I can really see that he has a close circle of mates who all meet up together. He looks relaxed and happy - a sign of good friendships.

I remember lots of Astoria Taxi drivers in Carlton meeting at Genevie's restaurant at 11am every day. That was in the 1970's.

"Not so much money though," I persisted in pursing that track.

He didn't hear or didn't bother.

We talk about the traffic, how it's got heavy especially in the rain.

There is not frustration in his manner.

"Your car ?" I ask him. The car looks old, but well cared for.

It does not have the slickness of a depot car. There are little nick-nacks of his everywhere, reminds me of the nick-nack's in my own office.

"Yes, my car." He smiles and nods.

"I've been driving taxis since I was a Bachelor", he tells us.

"Before you were married ?"

He nods.

"How many kids ?"

"Three."

We pull up outside the hotel.

The fare is 6.20 Malaysian Ringgit, that's $2.30 Aussie dollars, it wasn't far.

"I give you a discount make it six Ringgits"

He smiles and and leans back.

No hurry.

I'm stunned.

This is a happy man, a contented man.

I'm used to taxi drivers trying to get every little bit extra.

I'm used to rush rush rush....

This guy is not bothered.

"Make is seven", I hand him a ten Ringgit note.

He just smiles and says something I've forgotten by now.

"Here's my card, if you need to go anywhere you can call."

I've still got his card, his name is: Badrul Hisham 019 245 8678,

yes, if I needed a driver I would call him for sure.

It wasn't a clever marketing act that he did there.

He was just being himself.

A la natural!

I wonder why I assumed that everybody was unhappy in their job or felt underpaid.

Meeting a contended man.. was such a shock.

what happened to social expectations, ambition?

How dare he just be happy where he was ?

How dare he just see the good in his situation and accept it with a smile ?

Wow... A great taxi ride.

Always look on the bright side of life http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1loyjm4SOa0

Taxi drivers the world over are an odd bunch.

Talk about taxi drivers and everyone has a story of how they got ripped off by a taxi driver, and luckily there are also a few stories about how NICE a taxi driver was to them.

this was an actual story on a recent trip.

...at age 23, I drove taxis for Astoria Taxis in Swanston Street - after my lectures at Melb Uni where I did a Dip Ed I would walk over and see Mr Gange (the Gange family had 110 taxi licenses)

"you got a car for me Mr Gange ?"

he looked at me over his glasses.

"How long you want it for ?"

"Just tonight, bring it back in the morning."

"Check with Paul."

"Thanks".

Mr Gange alwasy wore satin shirts, dark red, smoked like a chimney.

He had style of sorts.

I'd wander over to see crusty old Paul. Paul looked like a war veteran, with bits shot off and missing, scars and a limp.

His outward manner was rough but he was a good bloke.

He "did the cars" for the depot.

"Paul,, you got a car for me ?"

No answer just a quick wave of the hand to the corner where two ancient dilapidated, creaky old Kingswoods stood.

Bench seats, suspension like a see-saw.

This was the rock bottom of the pile.

Fair enough, I was a greenhorn, a young kid doing this part time.

I didn't want fancy cars either.

Small scratches wouldn't matter on these cars.

Its much more relaxing driving a heap. Even if I did break down a sometimes and I needed to radio the depot for a tow home.

Another car would come and get me using a tow rope.

I was a student, it was all part of the adventure.

If you have any good Taxi driver stories... send me an email.

cheers

Heiko
Glossary:TLA's = Three letter acromyms

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....' - Leonard Cohen

"Well done", he said, "it is good to stand against the darkness, yet sometimes we must even stand against the light in order to find our true selves."

from "Shadows & Illusions - conversations with Master Serapian" Bk3 p37,

Haiko's - blogs -(o)- metaphysics -(o)- travel -(o)- stories -(o)- travel-tips.
One often meets one's destiny while trying to avoid it. - Anon.

comments from readers

My most interesting taxi story is about a taxi I caught from La Guardia Airport in NY when I was attending Cornell U.. We had a good conversation and I think he had some connection to Colombia. I was returning from Colombia. A year or two later I came into La Guardia (now JFK?) and caught a taxi. Conversation developed and it turned out to be the same taxi I had caught before. He remembered me and I him, after we started talking about Colombia. I don´t know the odds of that happening, but JFK is one of the biggest, if not THE, airports in the world. by JA

Taiwan TW3 - things that hit a foreigner in Taiwan

2010-01-06T21:46:00.000+11:00

- all pedestrian traffic lights have a countdown panel of how many seconds before it goes red. As you approach you know how much you have to hurry or dawdle. The green light is an animated green man running.As the countdown hits 10 seconds he starts running faster and faster.
- Everyone stands on the right on escalators, and the walking or running lane is on the left. This is done on all escalators, of which there are many many many... in the subway system.Little megaphones on autorplay admonish people to this. It's actually a good idea, if you want to hurry and there is an interminably long escalator that crawls up at snail's pace.
-The very core of the old city, all the inner city of Taipei has bike lanes and pedestrian lanes, EVERYWHERE. It is simply part of the way it was all built from the beginning.
Earthquakes are not unusual, tremors happen regularly. It took me a while to make the connection, but I think that is why a lot of the buildings are so SOLID and heavy constructed.
Hot springs easily accessible by local city trains. Go soak in hot strang smelling water, and take the subway home.
Taipei is a big city but has a sense of space and dignity, it is not frantic or crazy.
after you make a mobile phone call, you get an SMS that tells you how long your last call was and how much it cost you and your balance, - the sms is free of course.
electronic money is used in may places in parallel with cash: wave your card at sensor BLEEEP and the details are on the cash register and your card is deducted the amount of your purchase.
Subway: same idea: wave your "Easy CARD" at the sensor and you are IN , wave it again on the way out and the cost is deducted from the card. A little screen lights up and tells you your remining credit. If you buy your card on English language settings, then all messages from your card are in English. nifty, geeks will appreciate this.
Individual flats in a block of flats can be used and rented out as offices.
Crossing at the pedestrianCrossing, I hear a big bus on my left, but I'm confident it will stop for me, and it does. Such are the road rules here.
At those pissy little intersections, I have to force myself and be "nice" and wait at the red lights like everyone else, so foreigners don't get a bad name.I'm not nice all the time.
Around the world: One tends to avoid parks at night. Walking home a 23:30 hours, past the Da-an park in the center of the city. I took a small peek inside, and there was a lady with her pet dog, people playing guitar, (this is winter here, cool, Melboure winter type of cool). Ok so I crossed the park and use it as a shortcut walking home.

New year's at Taipei's 101, as the world's tallest building is called. Very impressive. Wall to wall people, all major 4 lane streets are open for pedestrians only. Volunteers traffic guards keep order alongside police. No alcohol, no crazy drunks wandering the streets. Hardly any litter. Subways are total crush time of course. I walked for an hour back home. Very nice atmosphere.

The Presidential palace is well guarded. Wide roads lead up to it, as is the custom for palaces, but I've never seen guards as vigilant anywhere in the world. As I get within 300meters there is a police/army type car and men with drawn rifles in their hands. The rifles or submachine guns or whatever they are called by the experts - have big magazines.
I cross the street and walk past the front of the palace on the pedestrian footpath. Not many people walk there. Every 20m a tall skinny guy in plain boring civilian clothes stands. But he does not just stand, he STANDS and his head moves 180 degrees, sweeping the scene, from side to side. As I pass the next guy, same thing, same facial expression, same type of clothes, just standing there WATCHING. These guys have no guns, no weapons they are the pawns on the chessboard.
The same arrangement goes all the way around the palace. Behind the pawns moving their heads are armed guards, halfway between the building and the watchers with their moving heads. These armed are the bishops or knights of the chessboard. They have uniforms, not civilian clothes and they are armed to the teeth, rifles at the ready, held in both hands.
Right by the walls of the palace are more guards, a LOT of them, also armed (of course). The front door of the palace is open, a wide red carpeted staircase goes up into the interior. Guards all the way up. I slow my walking pace down a bit to check it out but don't want to stop and gawk. Somehow something is not conducive or inviting to do that kind of thing. I don't even pull out my camera.
The vibes walking along the footpath are palpable. I cross the street breathe a sigh of relief and keep walking to Shimending. Shimending is the young people's fashion and clothes and food and movies and buskers area. Full of life and glitz and glimmer. The outrageously expensive next to the dirt cheap.
The end of my Taiwan stay is 8Jan10 :-( feel sad to leave.
Hope to come back one day.
Heiko

need to plan everything ? travel enthusiasm http://www.roadjunky.com/article/2143/make-extensive-travel-plans-and-make-god-laugh

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....' - Leonard Cohen

You ask yourselves, "what is the matter with me ? Why am I not content ?"
Your heart is whispering "Listen to me. This is not Home.
You did not come for contentment. You came to remember." - Emanuel....

Haiko's - blogs -(o)- metaphysics -(o)- travel -(o)- stories.
skype ID: MmePickwick
One often meets one's destiny while trying to avoid it. - Anon.

Taiwan... TW1

2010-01-06T21:30:00.000+11:00

At the coin laundromat this evening I took my just washed wet clothes out and stuffed them into the dryer next to the washing machine.
Changed a Taiwan dollar NT $100 bill into NT$10 ten dollar coins and paid what it said in red letters on the outside the machine.
Oooops. The machine was another washing machine, not a dryer.
The things one does when tired but happy.
Ok back in 28minutes, to try for the dryer again.

It's the end of the third day in Taiwan, Taipei.
I've had a whale of a time.
A Taiwanese friend offered to pick me up from the airport,
"No need I said, I'll find the office" (where I would be staying.)
The only surprise was just how EaSY it was to find their office.
The airport is clean, signposted in English and CHinese.
Tourist info people very helpful and fluent in English.
There is a bus to downtown Taipei main station for NT $123 (AUD $ 4).
Takes an hour.
Subway is simple to use, fast, cheap (AUD 60cents)
and did I say it was simple to use ? simper and more intuitive than any other system I've ever used.
Buidlings are numbered, Streets have English subtitles.
In 3 days I've never once had trouble with people not understanding me, everyone knows some English, enough to communicate food, bank, transport stuff.
Simple.

But most remarkable thing of all was the UNremarkable matter of factness of arriving in Taipei from Kuala Lumpur.
I had never been to Taiwan (in this life) yet it felt like getting on a local train in Melbourne and getting off a few stations later.
This is what surprised me most all.
It felt like coming home and flinging the keys on the table and walking into my living room.
Not coming HOME in a dramatic "oh my gawd I'm HOME!!!!" way, but just coming home from a day at the orifice. "Hi, I'm home, do you want to eat in or go out ?"

Perhaps it was that I had been making a site about travelliing to Taiwan for months ( http://sites.google.com/site/heikorudolph/travel-taiwan ) and sort of tuned into the place for months ? No, its more than that. I have no idea what though.

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=>> I'm keeping an eye on the length of these ramblings.
Those people who have opted for the short subscription should now get into the left lane, Exit for short subscriptions in 300 words on your left. Put on your blinker...
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Earlier travel emails with photos on: http://heikorudolph.blogspot.com/2009/12/kuala-lumpur-2009-december.html

Yesterday and today (17Dec09) I was able to see a few people for Chiron Healiing® treatments - organized by Angelika here in Taipei. (part of my "other life" outside the Uni, in Melbourne)

I had never thought seriously about visiting Taiwan till I looked closely at the place.
Until then, I had relied on hearsay and other people's judgements "It's crowded and hot ! It's expensive, sooooo expensive ! It's all technological and industrial !"
Well it is those things in some few places but it has an incredible variety. Another example that I should not rely on secondhand info, but rather check things out myself. Of course anyone reading this should not take my word for it either... :-)
                Just HOW expensive is it ? Today I had to buy shoes, 2 pants, socks, and a Parka because it is colder and wetter than I thought - total of AUD $66.
Lunch or home made dinner at a nice family run place AUD $2-5.
It is a liveable place, there are no beggars, no one sleeps on cardboard boxes in the subways, and people are incredibly friendly, earthy, patient and robust.
For me it feels like there is an innocence and beauty in Taiwan's daily life that I only remember from my childhood in Germany. (early onset senility ? or honeymoon phase ? )
There is less hurry, less push and shove as I walk around the city.
I feel safe.
Yet this is Taipei, the capital, the home of a world power in semiconductor chip industry and computer and IT industry and of TEA .
The houses where I am, in the center of Taipei, are solidly built. THings are maintained, and work.
Compared to that my own block of flats feels like it was thrown together at a distance by a one eyed kangaroo. They have solid blocks of flats like that in Melbourne in places like St Kilda too and the older subburbs.

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=>> ENTER Left Lane for Exit of short subscriptions - 200 words on your left.
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19Dec09 - Hot spring yesterday, in Wulai, easily reachable by train and bus.
While waiting for the bus a taxi driver come up to me, offered me a lift for NT$100, seemed to good to be true. My travellers cautionary instincts came to the fore. He showed me a $100 note, (AUD$3.30) Ok fine, why not.
He was going home anyway and so he might as well get something for his trip rather than nothing.

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=>> ENTER Left Lane for Exit of short subscriptions - 100 words on your left.
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A local Chinese Lady came with us, she also had her red $100 note in her hand so I was reassured.
The Lady jabbered away at me in Chinese, totally undeterred that I didn't understand a word, and so I also Jabbered away at her in English. Then she sort of understood what it was like to NOT understand another language. We smiled, sat in the backiseat, looked out the window and kept talking to each other as though the other one understood.
It's kind of amazing how much you can communicate just by tone, voice, and general sound. You dont have to understand anything with your mind. to have a convesation.
Of course you need to be relaxed and not tense. Usually I'm tense because the otheer person wants something from me (like money) that I probably dont want to give them. This lady didnt want anything, just to chat, so the jabbering away approach worked very well. . .
Was fun. It felt like we DID communicate in a way, though I have no verbal idea what was exchanged. Something was.
I was hoping it wasn't anything important she was telling me, like "the busses stop running at 4pm and you have to spend the night in the river".
It wasn't.
But I did check for the last bus just in case.
9pm.
OK.

Just how easy it is in Taiwan is borne out by the fact that I've not even had to learn the numbers yet.
Usually that is the key language survival skill, that and the phrase "where is the toilet ?".
Something I can say in many many languages.
But I WILL learn the numbers, so0000000on. Promise.... (but don't email and ask me if I have)
The most unlikely people will come out with English, quite relevant phrases too. The old guy making dumplings by hand in the restaurant where I have breakfast, will pop out with it, "Today no shrimp, today only pork. Ok ?"
"Sure, ok" any dumpling is ok with me. They are all handmade and delicious.
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=>> EXIT Left Lane for short subscriptions -   NOW !
slow your reading speed to 50 words / minute please.
Speed reading cameras operate in this area.... skim reading above 50 w.p.m. will incurr fines of up to AUD $200 !
Please read slowly and safely.
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WELCOME TO THE EXPANDED FULL UNCUT DIRECTOR'S CUT VERSION.
THANK YOU for stayig the course
- please be aware of the local safe reading speed limit of 50words/minute.
Speed cameras operate. School zones 40 words/min.

The changing face of budget "Plan-as-you-go" travel: I've remarked on this before, how it has moved from face to face to online.
Travelling with a small netbook computer and local phone number is a really good way to go. I used to pooh pooh it, but have bent with he winds of change.
If not a small computer then some kind of regular email contact. The social connections are almost all done on-line, where people can check out another persons background, past events they've been to, what others have independently said about them etc.. example here: Heiko's profile on Couchsurfing: http://www.couchsurfing.org/people/cinnamon/
There is a nice trust between people. (yes, yes I know.... usuall objections and concerns insert <...here...> see website here)
Example: Tonight (19Dec09) I got an invite to a meeting with local Couchsurfers about Chi Gong in Taiwan. I had posted a question about and talked about my interest on the Taipei group. We met at a local Subway station and headed for the meeting (couchsurfing Org is one of many good online ways to meet traveler friendly people in local places, in this case: people interested in Chi Gong)
The mention of Chi Gong does not bring forth lots of questions and skeptical looks here, rather inquiries of 'oh what form' do you practice ?'
It feels like finding a long lost friend to find a country where Chi Gong is part and parcel of the culture. What took me so long to find this place ?
"Ah..... grasshopper, it was not YOU how found it, it was not time to be found. When the traveller is ready the destination appears".

The changing face of travel 2: Less poverty in SE Asia. It used to be much more prevalent to be followed by people asking for money. Now it generally only happens more at the high volume tourist spots where the specialists operate. Even in Hanoi, there was real LACK of the constant barrage of book sellers and so forth. They have moved on, got more important things to do.
Also: less "out space" visitor feeling. Travellers and foreigners/falangs are not the rare exotic, visitors from outer space they used to be in the 1970's and before. Nor are they regarded as just wallets on legs, unless you go to the heavy tourist spots.

Mentality change required. Coming to Taiwan is nothing like visiting the developing countries of SE Asia. Taiwan is the same level and sophistication as Europe, Australia etc....

There is an orderlyness and honesty about daily life: Tiny stuff: We get into the taxi at a red light. The driver does not press the button to start the meter till the light is green and the car moves.
Is it just me, or does it seem people have a little more patience here ? must be just me on holidays or is it ?
This IS the capital and the center of the capital, but in any crowd, at a restaurant or going out, I find people who can converse in English, who express opinions about European VS Hollywood films, discuss public talks and who quietly hold their own opinions on a range of subjects I can usually only discuss with fellow Ivory Tower Inmates.
I just got an invite to a European film festival, from a friendly local Taiwanese Couchsurfer.
Alan Carpenter! are you reading this ? this one is for you here http://www.infine-art.com/bluesbash/

Found out about weekend crowds on the subways:
Looooooooooooooooooong queues for most trains, hugely packed. Every weekend, when everyone goes out.
Weekdays were a pleasant breeze, so I was totally surprised to hit RUSH hour on Saturday late afternoon.
The subway/Train/skytrain ticketing system here is the most convenient I have seen and used.

Buy NT$500 card and put in wallet.
When you go through the ticket gate just wave your wallet at the sensor, "BLEEP"you are logged in.
When you get off, wave at sensor again and you are logged out and the amount deducted from your card.

no tickets, no chips, no coins, no queueing at machines. Just wander through.
I am showing great restraint by NOT commenting on Melbourne's ticketing system - other than this sentence.

Longshan Temple Taipei, above.

On the 5th floor of a building, (Chi gong restaurant in fact) suddenly the whole room shakes and rattles. The room feels like a carboard box and like a big kid outside is shaking it.
In these cases, as in Japan, people in the room look at each, with various degree of trust or panic, and while the rattling continues the unspoken question is:
"Is this the BIG one ?"
.....wait....wait....watch.....tick.......tick.......tick.....
"Phew. no, its not"
and everyone keep going as before.
This kind of thing is normal. The building is built for it. In places where Earth tremors are super super rare (like Oz) this would have caused real damage I would imagine.

The world's tallest Builiding, "Teipei 101" is here, in this city.
At the very top is a 60 ton ball of lead, that is positioned with an array of hydraulic pistons that can move and compensate this huge weight to keep the building safe. A control Engineer's wet dream come true.
Standing up there, one can feel the constant swaying, if one looks for it. Took me 20 mins to notice, but eventually you start to feel like you are in a ship, an ever so tiny small unsteadiness. I like it, others feel queasy.

Its 5am 20Dec09, just woke up early, writing since 3:30am.
When I'm in my own daily life I think I know the world, I think I know what is what and spout my opinions with naive arrogance. Then I see the lives of people in different places, and how they quietly go about their things, and I realize I know very little. And I think I have realized and learned much in my travels, and so in a different kind of arrogance I again spout away in email and blogs like this one - :-)
this change of perspective, getting a grip on my smallness (though not insingficance) is what I like about experiencing diff cultures.
Of couse this is just my way of doing it, there are many other ways to realize the same thing.
Live and let live as they say.

More info on: Taiwan here http://sites.google.com/site/heikorudolph/travel-taiwan

for those who asked for the full refernce to mad dogs and Englishmen.
MAD DOGS AND ENGLISHMEN

In Tropical climes there are certain times of day
When all the citizens retire to take their clothes off and perspire
It's one of those rules the greatest fools obey
Because the Sun is far too sultry and one must avoid its ultry-violet
rays

The natives grieve when the White Men leave their huts
Because they're obviously....definitely....Nuts!

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun
The Japanese don't care to, the Chinese wouldn't dare to
Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve till one
But Englishmen detest-a siesta

In the Philipines they have lovely screens to protect you from the
glare
In the Malay States there are hats like plates which the Britishers
won't wear
At twelve noon the natives swoon and no further work is done
But mad dogs and Englismen go out in the midday sun

It's such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see
That though the English are effete, they're quite impervious to heat
When the White Man rides, every native hides in glee
Because the simple creatures hope he will impale his solar topi on a
tree

It seems such a shame when the English claim the Earth
That they give rise to such hilarity and mirth
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Ho=ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho
He-he-he-he-he-he-he
Hm-hm-hm-hm-hm

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun
The toughest Burmese bandit can never understand it
In Rangoon the heat of noon is just what the natives shun
They put their Scotch or Rye down and lie down

In a jungle town where the Sun beats down to the rage of man and beast
The English garb of the English Sahib merely gets a bit more creased
In Bangkok at twelve o'clock they foam at the mouth and run
But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun

Mad dogs and Englshmen go out in the midday sun
The smallest Malay rabbit deplores this foolish habit
In Hong Kong they strike a gong and fire off a noonday gun
To reprimand each inmate, who's in late

In the mangorve swamps where the python romps there is peace from
twelve till two
Even caribous lie around and snooze for there's nothing else to do
In Bengal to move at all is seldom if ever done
But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday sun

(Transcribed by Mel Priddle - October 2002)

From the musical revue "The Third Little Show" (1924)
(Noel Coward)
Noel Cowardhttp://lyricsplayground.com/alpha/songs/m/maddogsandenglishmen.shtml

Kuala Lumpur - 2009 December

2009-12-19T01:23:00.001+11:00

In warm relaxed KL, 13Dec09. The people here are of a very different temperament, life moves in a different, smooth rythem. It brings out a different aspect in me as well, (is this why I travel ? to meet diff aspects of self ? "Keep traveling Grasshopper, keep travelling").

It is the kind of place where one can just talk to people on the street without that initial film of suspicion and defensiveness I'm used to within myself and others i.e. ("is this a psycho asking me the time of day, or is he really just asking the time ? or does he want money ? " -- sometimes asking the time is really just asking the time says Dr Freud, although I think he was talking about cigars in the original I think... . )

What struck me too: It's a very child friendly society.

Kids are everywhere and part and parcel of the scene, for some reason parents don't seem to be engaged in constantly 'shushing' them or trying to stop them from embarassing the family or arguing with the about why they can't have this or that nick nack. They just float along with whatever is going on without much fuss.

Watched "the Matrix" again on the plane: great stuff. We live in Matrices within Matrices.... now how to figure out the jumping bits equivalent in real life ?

In Melbourne we were about to take off at 13:30, but something did not pass the final tests. it was 18:00 by the time we got away and 2am before I hit the bed in a hotel near Sentral Station in KL.

The lady of the hotel did reverse bargaining: Original price was 100 Ringgit (AUD $30) and the closer we go to the room the more the price dropped without me saying a word, it ended at 80 RM and when I paid she said 70 because it was 2am already. Definitely not many tourists come to this area, love it.

By the time I stumbled out of bed brunch was in full swing. The mainly Indian area here, Brickfields, has all a traveller needs within 100meters: food, barber, internet cafe, IT gadgets, antique pocketwatches and a lively street scene.

Indian music is playing in the background, kids play computer games in the cool shady aircon upstairs internet shop.

Mum & Dad: thanks for your christmas present: a selfwiding 1990's good quality pocket watch from KL ! this is YOUR present to me - thank you :-)

It seems short and sweet missives more often is better than long and rambling, so I'll close this here.

If you want off this list just drop me a line.

All the best for Christmas.

Heiko

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....' - Leonard Cohen

One often meets one's destiny while trying to avoid it. - Anon.

Today (Sunday the 13Dec09) I set myself the challenge: treat the city as a jungle:

take train to Petronas twin towers, and then walk back to the other end of the city, in Brickfields, with just a simple Lonely Planet map, and a magnetic compass to guide me.

4 hours later, with a detour to the 425m TV lookout tower, I was back in my hotel, hot & smelly.

Close to the hotel I bought a local SIM card, for my phone and when I opened my old leather bag I had to take out bottles of juice, apples etc.... the guy asked me (in Jest ???) are you sleeping anywhere ?

"Huh !!! Yes I am, I just did my shopping and and have 3 liters of juice and apples and stuff crammed in". Hummpfff said Eyeore !!!.

Impressions from trekking across KL:

- The place is NOT as big as it seems on the map, if you know where you are going the city is actually manageable even on foot.

- There are some really "NOICE" areas, tasteful restaurants, Thai and Vietnamese, stylish areas, bizzare and artistically built, architects dreams.

- Parks, with lawn, ponds, HUGE old trees, even a forest area, of original looking vegetation, old trees and mosquitoes.

- the CAR is KING !!!. Long live the CAR ! Prepare ye the way for Zee CAR, make ye straight the path of the CAR !!! here cometh the CAR !!! tada... Let nothing stand in the way of ZEE CAR!!!
- Result of the above: trekking accross KL sometimes means negotiating clover leaf flyover after clover leaf flyover. If you are in a car or train it's all easy, but no one walks more than a 300m radius circle of their immediate neighbourhood.
Certainly not any major distances.
Sometimes footpaths run along the freeways and just suddenly peter out or have a fence. Not sure why they put a footpath there in the first place, its a nice idea though. No real thought to how a pedestrian would actually move around. Well that's not really true: pedestrians just have to dash across the freeway when it is safe to do so. Takes some strategy to work out how to get across a huge system of ramps and multilanes. Usually there is a shortcut or even an under/overpass. Other times you just have figure out the flow and work out how to position yourself so you cross the minimum number of lanes.
But anyway: the only ones using footpaths are mad dogs and Englishmen...(or these days: Australians,...Germans...etc...i.e. falangs)
- Traffic lights for pedestrians are set on "miserly", you gotta dash around between the flow of those things for which all this was built in the first place: CARS.
- I'll be taking trains from now on.
- as a result of the trekk: I now know how the key things in the city are laid out. Where PetronasTowers are in relation to Chinatown, & to Puduraya bus station, to the old Train station and all of them to Sentral station.
Now the maps make a degree of sense.

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THis is about the right length email at this point for the short version.
All those readers who only "paid" for the short subscription and do NOT want a
rambling LONG missive inflicted on them, please exit now.

Exit now !
DO not read any further, time to stop.

Readers with small children and infants may abort reading anytime.
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what??? ............. are you still reading this ?
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ok - well you asked for it: more "fascinating" stuff below: you were warned, read on at your own risk.
Please tick the box [] to show you absolve me of all responsibility and you have read the terms and conditions.

Are there any Bicycles in KL ?
Bicycles ?
What are they ?
"Bi" - meaning two and "cycles" - meaning repetitious, round as in wheels.
Oh you mean those funny things with two wheels you have to precariously balance on, where you might fall off, and where you use your MUSCLES to push YOURSELF along by your own strength...OMG.
Not cool, might actually break out in a sweat.
Saw ONE cyclist, and it was a foreign/falang looking person. Expat type.

I would not want to cycle in KL, car drivers are totally NOT expecting a bike, even motorbikes are an endangered species.
I guess a bike would be ok if it was expensive and you wore all the right colourful lycra gear, but for just getting around ? No!
It seems to me riding a bicycle in KL would about as exotic as saying "Hey watch me fly my hang-glider" in Australia.

It strikes me KL is at the stage regarding cars, that Melbourne was in 10+ years ago.
Quite liveable and very nice but cars were the undisputed first preference, no traffic calming, no bike lanes, etc... .

Oh and one more thing: Malaysians seem to LOVE, really really LEEEERVE, shopping centers.
I walked into KLCC shopping center (just because it was there, next to Petronas Towers). inside it was ritzy and glitzy just like the best of them in Australia or anywhere in the world.
Ok, I have to be honest: 4 mins was not a long time to assess this, but there was really nothing different to KLCC from any international standard glitzy ritzy super brand name shopping center.
It made me think though: There is one thing that always intrigued me: Does shopping not mean spending money ? and does this money not come from the ones who shop ?
Now I could really get into shopping if it meant spending someone else's money on things for myself, but spending my OWN money ? I was brought up to try and hang onto it. I'm not that good at it as it is. But shopping centers make that 10 times harder.
That one has always puzzled me.
Perhaps it's a bit like Ulysses: who wanted to hear the song of those deadly alluring sexy Sirens, so he ordered his men to tie him to the mast of his ship and not to untie him no matter how much he yelled and threatened them.

However I'm quite happy to admit that I'm shopping-ly challenged and miss the necessary DNA.
My first thought is always: "But I can get this much cheaper outside!"
Then again perhaps I'm just a mutation: I DO Love shopping for pocket watches in strange places, like tiny little alley shops run by bespectacled old guys who fix and repair old spring driven clockwork.

Speaking of which: perhaps it is all just a matter of taste, and each to his own. Some people get their jollies from shiny ritzy shopping centers, I get mine from chaotic shopping streets, mixes of restaurants, butchers, tailors, jewellers, fruit sellers, mobile phone shops, watch repairers, crazy parking, shiny lights. The smells of sandalwood, incense, piss, and exhaust funes. In short: a chaotic quirling mass of humanity. A swirling about of young and old.

If anyone would like to donate money to rehabilitate me to see if I can manage to like high class shopping centers, please send donations .... he he he .

STOP PRESS: I figured it out (about the shopping centers): I'm a male, I'm an Engineer !!! OF COURSE that explains it all.
Tomorrow I'll explore one shopping center that DOES sound interesting: a cybercenter, IT, technology place.

14Dec09 MOnday,
The lady managing my Hotel, would be perfect for Charles Dickens to characterize. She is a middle aged Indian with an offbeat sense of humour, and seems like she can deal with whatever is thrown her way, (even a Heiko and worse). I get a very nice sense of Indian culture from her.
The hotel I discovered by "chance", happened to see it from the airport bus as we got close to the final stop in the city at 0100.
It's a totally non-tourist area here. The Indian restaurants serve meals on big banana leaves.

If you have ever looked closely at a trail of ants, you'll see that ants move along very narrow trails. Some ants move in one direction, some in the opposite. Every now and then some of the ants going in different directions stop and wave their antennas at each other. They are talking, exchanging info in 'ant-language'. then they hurry on for about 3 to 10 centimeters and stop and do the antenna waving thing again.
That seems very similar to how us tourists and backpackers follow very narrowly defined trails. Everyone goes to the same general Backpacker area. Or if you are Biz traveller or 5 * traveller, to the same general top class Hotels. Before the internet people did have to actually hang out and talk face to face.
After the internet: the same still happens, only it happens online, on a few key websites.

17:00 hours: back from the Guanyin/KuwanYin Temple, next to the Petronas Tower, (by train this time, both ways).
The rain bucketed down thunder raged and everyone waited indoors for an hour.

Devi the lady who runs the Crescent Hotel in this small little Tamil enclave near Sentral Station keeps a vigilant eye on things. She greets her customers when they come in, smiles and asks what they did in the day and generally chats amiably.
As I was sitting in the lobby, this evening watching the street scene through the glass doors. Suddenly she got up like lightning and dashed to the front door as one of her guests was coming in, saying "NO".
HUH??? I was puzzled for an instant.
"No prostitutes, allowed in my hotel"
The guy just turns around without a word, his girl never made it inside.
She goes back to her spot on the front desk.
"he paid for one person, he can bring his wife, or his girlfriend, but not a prostitute", she explains to me.
I giver her a thumbs up.
"I don't run a brothel here " she is indignant.
She may be the Madame of the hotel but is not "A Madame of an 'Establishment' "
She can be sweet as anything but she ain't no pushover.

enough rambling for this time....
Busy Christmas coming up...
Heiko

Saigon musings: war n peace

2009-11-15T18:48:00.002+11:00

the video shows black and white footage of 1968,-

"Hero level of american killer, because he killed 16 american soliders, and

destroy 3 tanks".

a ripple runs through the English speaking audience around me.

........

the video goes on to describe the battles and deaths, and victories over

"the enemy"

and how the people of Chu-chi, living in the tunnels resisted toxic gas,

crazy dogs, bulldozers, and SWAT teams to go on fighting in a war that cost

1,000,000 vietnamese and 58,000 US lives.

why did it strike me as odd - just for a split second - to hear a hero's

title awarded for killing americans ?

ah yes, of course, ....

the chu-chi tunnels were a 200km long network that formed a key resistance

point in the Vietnam war. The tunnel fighters were never defeated.

now 33 years after the war....

the ideology that caused all those deaths has grown mellow, for all

practical purposes, business and trade and commercialism has taken hold of

Vietnam.

there are 25m motorbikes in Vietnam, 1000 new ones every day.

Backpacker places and pubs with names like Apocalypse NOw and B52 attract

western travellers.

our guide, fought in the war, he spent 6 months in the tunnels.

I went down and through a 20m section of a slightly widened tunnel

(otherwise western big people would get stuck).

In the middle of the tunnel I was squatting and shuffling along, people in

front of me and people behind me. the Mexican girl in front felt

claustrophobic. I started to wonder 'what if I die down here, just earth,

can't even move, or stretch out or stand up, or ....- ooops better just keep

going. - stop those thoughts.

We made it out. After all, it was just a tourist experience, it wasn't real

life was it ?

Our guide never goes down into the tunnels anymore.

When he speaks on the bus intercom he describes history, that he lived

through. he remembers shooting people.

as he rambles on he grows philosophical and tries to make sense of his life,

of all the changes he has seen.

some of his friends are now BIG people, bishops in Hanoi and such. he is a

tour guide who cannot shake the memories...."when you are on the

battlefield, someone comes to kill you, if you don't kill them, they will

kill you...."he tells us. But mixed these memories he chuckles and

philosophizes, .... "time goes so fast, and you look back and you wonder

what have I accomplished ?

be happy, if you not happy, you did nothing at all, "

I wish I'd taped some of his speach... it was strangely touching...

I remembered my childhood school lessons in germany: my teachers told me how

it works: first an enemy is painted as bad, and horrible, then he is

dehumanized and made to be evil.

then its ok to kill him. he is no longer human after all. He is something

abstract in a mental philosphy and we are just correcting the

philosophy.....the principles....

I grew up thinking that after WW2 we had learnt our lessons.

germany was rebuilding itself, vowing to not make that mistake again, -

ever.

I thought after Hiroshima we had learnt.

I thought after Vietnam we had learnt.

I thought after Iraqu.... actually no, I didn't anymore....

at that point I realized something else.

Every time I hate someone, wish them to no longer to exist, want to solve

the problem by just getting 'rid'of them, I am in effect doing what war does

on a larger scale....

how would I cope with someone wishing me dead ? would I retaliate ?

I don't know, there are no really simple answers for me anymore, I'd have

to deal with each situation as it comes.

But I hope all possible alternatives for peace are tried first.

so i hope for the future....

and remember to be happy NOW, because NOW is all anyone ever has.

if this has been a bit philosophical... perhaps I caught it from the

tourguide today... the old man who reflects on his life in a bus... full of

young backpackers on the way to the Chu-chi tunnels..... .

the old man who fought in a bitter war, survived and wonders what it was

all about....

the old man who is trying to make sense of it all.....

making money and getting a car or a new motorbike or fancy degree, do not

grab him anymore....

a mellow strange humour and a self mocking laugh follows his soliloquies...

he turns off the mike and we do most of the trip in silence.....

hyco

Work and travel: living and traveling abroad - a collection of links

2009-10-29T11:51:00.001+11:00

Travelling and working: lifestyle, as a way of life:

http://www.everthenomad.com/
and http://www.everthenomad.com/whatilikeonwww.html

http://jetsetcitizen.com/

http://locationindependentprofessionals.com

http://locationindependent.com/

Travel advice: - search for advice on your location: - community generated so not as biased toward commercial interests.

Wikitravel: http://wikitravel.org/en/Main_Page

Thorntree on Lonely Planet: http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thorntree

Taiwan ('Ilha Formosa'): a collection of useful travel info

2009-10-29T10:51:00.092+11:00

this page has moved to:

http://sites.google.com/site/heikorudolph/travel-taiwan

all changes and updates on the NEW page.

older version below:

A collection of travel links for Taiwan.

Before you go -o- 'be-ing there' -o- traveling around:

A full introduction and practical overview of Taiwan: Travel, Food, Accommodation, Money, Work, Tourist sites for Taiwan.....
By Wikitravel: it is community generated and thus avoids commercial bias towards certain hotels, resorts, tour companies etc... .
http://wikitravel.org/en/Taiwan

Places to see in Taiwan: http://wikitravel.org/en/Taiwan#Other_destinations

Great introduction to Taipei (the capital) http://wikitravel.org/en/Taipei

Places to see just OUTSIDE Taipei: http://wikitravel.org/en/Taipei#Outskirts

The other great introduction and jumping off point for further info on Taiwan.Lonely Planet on Taiwan:(but more commercially oriented)

http://www.lonelyplanet.com/taiwan

And info on the capital: Taipei http://www.lonelyplanet.com/taiwan/taipei

One of the best sites to search for specific info is the good old Lonely Planet Thorntree. Just search for what you are looking for, read the stuff others have asked and answered and if you want ask your own questions:

http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thorntree/

Heiko's tips on meeting local traveler-friendly people here:

http://heikorudolph.blogspot.com/2009/09/how-to-dive-beneath-tourist-surface.html

Traveler-friendly Taiwanese and expats (the CouchSurf Taipei Group):
http://www.couchsurfing.org/group.html?gid=1311

Read a few of the messages and see what you think.

Getting there and away again:

Do I need to get a visa ?

Visa info: http://www.taiwan.com.au/Travel/Necessary/report01.html
Visa taiwan http://www.teco.org.au/evisa.htm

Flying there and away

AirAsisa is a cheap airline. Prices vary a lot depending on the dates you want to go. I've flown Melbourne to Kuala Lumpur (KL) for AUD $300 return (all taxes included), other times I've paid AUD $750 for the same trip. All their flights from Australia go to KL first.
I paid AUD$170 KL to Taipei December 2009
There are lots of good deals by other airlines. It changes fast.

Flying to Macau with AirMacau (I hour ferry ride to Hong Kong ~133 HK dollars)
http://en.airmacau.com.mo/

Taiwan airports: there are two, and there are no direct flights to China for political reasons, more details here:

http://voyage.typepad.com/china/2005/07/taiwans_interna.html

Taiwanese Airlines:

http://voyage.typepad.com/china/2005/07/taiwanbased_air.html

Insurance: personally I found the cheapest travel insurance you can get in Australia is: AAMI
http://www.aami.com.au/travel-insurance/international-travel-insurance.aspx
You DO have be an Australian resident over 18 and under 65 though.
I think they cover the big stuff.

Of course if you want all the bells and whistles and to be covered for every conceivable minor detail then you'll have to pay almost twice that at the local travel agent. Travel agents are great at scaring the s*** out of you to get the highest premium insurance for you, and the highest commissions for themselves.

And in case you are wondering: no, I don't get click-through ratings, or adverstising bonus or anything by recommending AAMI. A few years ago HSBC bank had the cheapest Aussie travel insurance but they got more expensive and went for higher premiums (for themselves) and are now just so so.... .

Accommodation:

....more info as I find out more.

the backpacker low cost accommodation scene changes but the "usual suspects" are:

In Taipei the Hostel prices seem to range from AUD $30 / night for a single room with ensuite, to AUD $20 or less for shared accommodation. Cheaper for couples. (Nov09)

A range of places to stay in Taipei is described at Wikitravel:
http://wikitravel.org/en/Taipei#Sleep
Budget (US$10 ) to five star options are listed by location and district.

And of course if you want to stay with local people, surfing their couch, or staying on their floor check out:
http://www.couchsurfing.org/

My profile on CouchSurfing is at: http://www.couchsurfing.org/people/cinnamon/

- the above are all links to other sites, which I've found useful.

If you think anything should be added/changed, let me know, just leave a comment below or email heikorudolph @ yahoo.com (without the spaces).

Heiko

NB: most links are shown fully expanded, so that the page is easy to copy and use. Use commonsense, no warranty of any kind for any of this info, it is simply one person's offering for others.

Useful Taiwan Links in any order -

Youth pass travel in Taiwan: from Lonely planet's ThornTree.
http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thorntree/message.jspa?messageID=16372991
come the following links:
http://www.youthtravel.tw
http://youthtravel.tw/youthguesthouse
http://tour.youthtravel.tw/travel2009/1210.php?forewordID=99&s

26Nov09 Java Cafe Saigon

2009-10-20T18:58:00.001+11:00

Couchsurfing event 26Nov09 Saigon
Corner Dong Du street and Hai Ba Trung - Ben Thanh Ward, Dist 1

see map image

HOW TO dive beneath the Tourist surface: internet communities e.g. Couchsurfing

2009-09-17T12:22:00.156+10:00

How can you get to know locals and expats in a place you have never been to before ? It can take weeks and months to really meet people.

This used to frustrate me, because when I travel I often just meet other travelers or people dealing with travelers, working in hostels, restaurants etc... .That's nice but I wanted to meet locals and foreigners who had lived in the place for a while and see what life there was like for them.

Of course sometimes you can meet local people in buses and planes.

One way that has worked for me is to join an internet community of people who are into travel and who are interested in meeting travellers.

When I know what day I arrive in a place, say for example Macau, I ask if anyone from that community is interested to meet up for an informal meal or tea 'n coffee session. Usually quite a few people are.

The internet group I picked is called Couchsurfing. It's a collection of traveler friendly people.

It was set up to develop a network of trust and allow those they trust to stay on their couches/Sofas - basically provide some space for people to crash overnight ! The idea has been around for ages. Servas was popular in the 1960's to 1980's before internet - when all was done by snail mail. They are still around http://www.servas.org/. I stayed at a Servas host in Singapore in 1985. The current incarnation of this idea is couchsurfing and other similar sites. I won't explain it all here, you can read more at: www.couchsurfing.org

Qu: Does everyone have to allow strangers to stay on their couch ?

No.

My flat in Melbourne is too small for hosting people, so I only meet people for tea/coffee for a chat, there is no compulsion to provide overnight hosting. It is perfectly OK to just meet people for tea and coffee, in a public place.

I set my couchsurfing profile to indicate that.

I usually stay at Hotels/budget backpackers when I travel. Unless work pays :-)

In 2008 I joined the Egypt-Cairo Couchsurfing group and asked if anyone was interested to meet up. A few people were and they suggested a nice Cafe. It ended up with about 9 people coming, locals Egyptians, travelers, and expats.

In September 2009 I wanted to meet people living in Macau. We got a lovely group of resident Macau-ans, European Exchange students and travelers. We all met at a popular ice cream shop suggested by one of the active Couchsurfers in Macau.

I had never met any of them in person before.
In a strange new city I like to meet locals and expats, otherwise I tend to float like a cork, on the surface of life and remain the gringo tourist ready for the milking. I'll probably always be the gringo tourist, but there are ways to dive below the surface and meet locals and other travellers.
Seven of us met at a famous ice cream shop on Sunday at 12.30. Four were local Macau residents, a lady who was studying business and has a wine import business, a final year High School student who wants to study in Europe, a Goverment employee in education who loves to travel and wants to visit 100 countries before he dies and a Japanese Macau resident who runs a business.
The foreigners were a group of exchange Univ students (Germany, Finland, Holland...) and a Japanese visiting her friend, + yours truly. Pictures here: Sunday meeting

We met at a small inconspicuous ice cream shop that was famous for its ice cream sandwiches. Then the locals took us to eat at a REAL traditional noodle shop, we shopped for a new camera for the German exchange student. Our High School guide took the rest of us who stayed on for a tour of her favourite spots in Macau: the bisquit making, juice shop, super fresh tofu shop, backpackers place where a famous movie was shot. (thanks VL :-) )

Oh yea, and we found out about the graffiti scene in Macau, nothing like as full on as in Melbourne but some really nice stuff, with interesting ideas.
It seems that multinational marketing is getting really sophisticated: Apparently Coca Cola sponsored graffiti that subtly promotes their Zero Coke brand, but looks like a huge graffiti mural. Photo to follow once I manage to get a cable to connect the camera to the computer. [update: photo below]

I'd never been to the other islands of Macau, Taipa, and Coloane. A lovely Couchsurfer in Macau took me on a night time sightseeing tour of those other parts. Photos of the nightime tour here.

I was asked if most CouchSurf people were the younger set ?

Yes, age tends to make people more

- scared,
- more tied down with kids & work, and
- richer i.e willing to pay for comfort i.e. unwilling to sleep on a couch, so yes, most are young-ish.

However the more committed longer term active ones such as country "ambassadors" are often older, more mature and have made a clear committment. Statistics are here

www.couchsurfing.org/statistics.html

Couchsurfing is my way of meeting people who are NOT on the tourist trail, and NOT working in tourism, but who are interested in other countries and travelers.

In Myanmar I met a Couchsurfing lady doing great work with orphans, widows from Cyclone Nargis; we are still in touch working on how to do "useful" stuff. My old High school buddy GK who was a monk in Burma for 15 years is also going to see about linking in with her work.

In Macau I met great Couchsurfing member working for a Christian orphanage/children's home: (kids 3-18year old, some abandoned, others from troubled families)

We went for a nigh time tour or Macau, after work, on a small motorscooter, a true whirlwind tour. This was just straightforward friendliness as I remember it in the 1970's when travellers were a select group and there was an instant camaraderie 'on the road'. Less suspicion, more commonsense.

Photos of the trip here - it gave me a chance to show off my new camera (Canon G10) , which lets me take photos from a moving motorbike at night with NO flash, (at ISO 3200).

The Couchsurfing meetings remind me of the world I grew up in Germany in 1960's, a basic trust is still alive over here that is dead in most big Western cities after 2001. (not complaining, simply observing).

This kind of internet community is a great way to dive behind the tourist barrier and meet locals, expats who are at one end of the Bell Shaped Normal Distribution Curve, that is, the 3+ sigma group (explanation here).

I never surfed anyone's couch through the Couchsurfing site yet, because I'm one of the older ones. Also I prefer my freedom to come and go as I want, - it would have to be someone I really felt comfortable with and know for a while to actually do the couchsufing thing and sleep on a couch.

In Asia a cheap backpackers hostel is my standard accommodation.

As I mentioned above: I don't host people, my place is too small 6.5 x 6.5 meters, I'm older (see above points re age again :-)) and it would have to be someone I really trusted to do the hosting-a-couchsurfer thing.

Clothes, dress, and the message it gives out to all around you:
Another thing about getting out tourist mode: dress in such a way that the local people think you are living and working there (i.e. an expat), travelling around for holiday.
In Thailand I know I've hit the right dress level when local people ask me: "where do you work ? how long you been working in Thailand ?"- then I know I've dressed the correct way :-)
- Then I know I don't run around with clothes that scream "TOURIST !!!!!"
Thais have a phrase for certain groups of foreigners 'kii nok tourist' ... I'll leave you to work out what it means :-)

One really useful thing I found out over time was this:
I take a suit jacket.
- It helps me blend in,
- it is NOT the usual backpacker dress so instantly takes me out of that pot.
- It makes people (in SE Asia) think I am working locally (expat).

I take jackets that I can knock around a bit, older stuff, that is good for travel.

And in case people think it makes me look rich, no, not really, as I wear the suit jacket with clean pants, jeans, whatever, and the rest of me clean and casual.And it is not JUST clothes, attitude matters even more.

I also found wearing clothes like this makes locals trust me more, they are actually more friendly.
I get better service, better responses from most places.
Admittedly I am over 40 years old, so I guess that helps the image as well.

It is ironic because for my work at the University I don't usually wear a suit jacket. Or if I do, it is very casually.

Travel tips for women in the links at the end talk about dress too.

Ok and we might as well face the inevitable question of SAFETY

A collection of links and info by Lonely Planet, Couchsurfing and Haiko, is here.

I'm an Academic and Engineer, by trade, and researching things is in my blood. It is curious how our human psyche puts up with the incredibly high chance of getting killed in a car accident (details here)

and yet turns itself inside out, about things that are really rare. Kids are taught a fear of strangers that changes the shape and the whole tone and feeling of our society, and yet we are quite happy to accept risks of 1 in 100 of being killed in a transport accident over the average lifetime. The social risks from strangers or in travel are 10,000 times less than that. Having said that, of course does not mean it NEVER happens, it just means it is rare - some good figures by a reputable group from Oxford Uni on accidents and travel here and on general healthy living here.
And having looked at the numbers does not mean my heart and guts agrees. Numbers don't mean little in the end. In the end it is everyone's personal choice. I guess we all 'gotta go one day'. --- Enjoy the ride. :-)

I've talked more about how I used Couchsurfing to meet some great people in Macau in September2009 on another blog here.

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....' - Leonard Cohen

I walk with her, and I hear the gentle beating of mighty wings....

I hear the sound of her wings.... and the darkness lifts from my soul...

Macau - B - last days

2009-09-04T01:30:00.018+10:00

Macau people burn paper replicas of money, food, utensils, gold bullion, even mobile phones, to send to their ancestors on the other side. This is the time in the Chinese calendar to do the burning Well that is what our local Macau Chinese expert told us at the Sunday meeting.The idea of sending messages to loved ones on the other side has a long tradition in Chinese history. I've done it on occasions, writing a letter using paper and pen and burning it. It's good. People here do it in big metal bins on the footpath all over town.

- sorry layout in this blog sucks, I need to redo in firefox, later, to make it look nice. Some sections are moved about other repeated, the layout on IE is not good, - I move one thing and it has funny effects on othe parts of this layout... Haiko

This evening at 10pm as I walk back to the hotel I pass an old man, bent over, having difficulty walking pulling a bamboo woven garbage container. He seems to have pain in his legs. By the looks of him, he's a cardboard and plastic recycler who does this all day. Wearing only shorts he makes his snail's pace way across the road. On the other side three men sit drinking beer and playing cards. see photo below:

---o(O)o---

The act of observing alters that which is observed. It is an old principle known as the 'observer effect' which has found application even in quantum physics where it is known as the Heisenberg uncertainty principle.

It applies equally to tourism. The act of observing and gawking at a tourist spot, creates a definite, often negative, effect.
An effect I like to keep to the absolute minimum.

People ask me what I do when I travel, don't I want to see the Casinos and the tourist spots ?
Casinos no, some of the tourist spots yes, but when I travel I travel ad hoc, without a fixed itinerary, I travel in a funny way, wandering about, exploring, photographing, and most of all blending in, not wanting to be noticed by anyone, just passing through looking like a 'regular', a local expat whatever...
For example: Yesterday I walked past and watched the huge tenement high risers, like anthills, like a termite colony, - we humans live in huge concrete cities... (not for too much longer I think, that makes me appreciate even those termite hills, as a unique thing in history. Funny how much the time/history perspective makes me appreciate things I would reject otherwise.)
And in those termite hills, at sundown hundreds of families go to the playgrounds, hundreds of lively squiggly shouting kids, eager and excited by life. Each one family, each one a story, each child (mostly) carefully looked over and after by a mother and father, each little life weaving itself into the tapestry of memories that the old men and women of the future will remember 70,90 years hence...

---o(O)o---

Talking with younger travelers last Sunday I realize how far the travel scene has moved and I start to feel my age... .
In the late 70's overland travel on YOUR OWN with a backpack was a NEW way, not established. There were odd articles here and there, by crazy dudes who tried it and lived to tell the tale.
I took a train all the way out to Geelong as a 17 year old High School student to talk to a guy who had 'done it'. He gave me good advice, much of which has become part of my mode of travelling.The method basically conisted of finding the first cheap traveller hotel - and asking other travellers what the best next stop was. "where do you stay in Singapore ?""Becoolen street has cheap accommodation, some flats are converted to cheap hostels.""Where have you just come from ?" "Jakarta.""Oh, what place d'you recommend ?"etc... Lonely Planet's famous yellow bible "South-East Asia on a shoestring" was in everyone's hands, it was small, 2nd edition, and it was sketchy, but it was a start, enough to go on. In those days you didn't insist on as much detail. A rough outline was enough.
Remember the hippy generation had ripped through Western society not very long ago, the echoes were still around. Maybe I'm one of those echoes... ?

(quavery voice)"In those days: there was no internet." (shock and horror !!!! how can one live without the internet arghhhh .... ) Today it is inconceivable to travel without the net.
Backpacker places provide it as a matter of course. To get mail I wrote to my parents 6 weeks in advance: "send mail to Calcutta GPO Poste restante until May, then stop 2 weeks before I get there because the mail will not reach me in time. Each major city had GPO Poste Restante sections where budget travellers would check to see if there was a letter from home. It was another hub of exchange. Everyone going through piles and piles of letters.

It was part of the 'ant trail' as I called it. When ants meet they stop and wave their antennae at each other, communicating in some way. The travel scene was like that, the stop-overs were the cheap hotels. You couldn't book these places, you just turned up, that was how it worked.

It was part of the challenge to set off into the wild blue yonder. The motto was:"if you can book it, it's too expensive" because the only hotels you could book easily were Hiltons and 5star places. By fax, phone of travel agent.
The typical accommodation of the 70's was fan operated, small rooms, bare bones, clean, neat, simple and Zen like. There are only a few left in Macau. Even I don't stay there anymore (--- much). Below is a picture of one such remaining place, a famous moview was filmed there in the 70's

These days carrrying your phone and buying local SIM cards is the norm. I had to go to shops and buy things to get coins, walk around to find a phone box...I find it hard to keep in the loop without a phone these days, still I didn't want to bring it this time.

Now the traveller's social scene is on the internet, and travel tips and the ant trail has moved to the NET. You meet on the net, develop trust, sus each other out then meet in person. One uses whatever tools are around.

---o(O)o---

Lots of schools in the area I'm staying in.

Walking around when the schools all finish, the remarkable thing was that almost every child had a mother or grandmother/father to taken them by the hand and pick them up and walk them home. Not many car pickups, there simply is NO space in this tiny island.

---o(O)o---

Speaking of using the Internet for social circles reminds me: In the previous email, I forgot to explain that the way all those strangers got to know each other and arranged a meeting last Sunday in that ice cream shop was through
www.Couchsurfin.org. It is set up for people to develop a network of trust and allow those they trust to stay on their couches/Sofas - basically provide some space for people to crash overnight ! The idea has been around for ages. Servas had this concept in the 1960's to 1980's before internet - when all was done by snail mail. I stayed at a Servas host in Singapore in 1985. The current incarnation of this idea is couchsurfing and other similar sites. I won't explain it all here, you can find out more at: www.couchsurfing.org My flat is too small for hosting people, so I only meet people for tea/coffee for a chat, there is no compulsion to provide overnight hosting. I usually stay at Hotels/budget backpackers when I travel. Unless work pays :-)

I'd never been to the other islands of Macau, Taipa, and Coloane. I got a great nightime sightseeing tour of the those other parts from a friend I met using the same site (couchsurfing.org) as for last Sunday's meeting. Photos of the nightime tour here.

---o(O)o---

I've moved to the Institute for Tourism Training Hotel the last two nights. The hotel is really classy and nicely done up, take a look if you want at: http://www.ift.edu.mo/pousada/eng/index.htm
I like the clean-ness. They are s***tscared about this silly Swine flu and go nuts on face masks. The place smells strongly of insecticide in fact it positively stinks of the stuff. I hold my breath as I walk quickly through the lobby.
The insecticide is doing more harm to staff than any flu virus would.
These are the vagaries of big bureaucracies...
the Hotel one notch down wouldn't dream of such extremes.

The air in Macau is around 28-33 Celsius, humid, pleasant if you like that kind of thing (I do). The hotel has the aircon on instant-freeze-dry mode, at cryogenic freezing levels close to absolute zero - ok a little exaggeration, but you get the point. It's the deep cold that hits you in the chest, hurts the lungs as you breath when you come in from outside.
Another reason to walk quickly through the lobby.
Why they do these things ? These are mysteries beyond the wisdom of the Sufi's themselves I think.

Then they wonder that some people get phlegmy and chesty.

A tip I picked up from an older traveler years ago: always take a suit jacket as protection when you change from hot to cyrogenic aircon. I even take a small silk scarf. It's the change over that is the tricky time, after 20mins the body adjusts and all is cool (pardon the pun).
Suit jackets serve the double function of looking nice and more formal which is important in Asia (and Australia I'm noticing to my surprise).

---o(O)o---

All these recent email articles are on: here

If you are interested in more esoteric tangents: Musings on the feeling of having lived in a place before, e.g. a city that I know I didn't ever visit in my life before - more here if you are interested.

---o(O)o---

Macau A - travels in Macau

2009-08-31T17:13:00.008+10:00

how come I love the messy shops, 
the lively raucaus restaurants, 
the worn outness of buildings, 
narrow winding streets so much ? 
- I've just arrived in Macau, 
29Aug09 at 22:30
If I was ever going to talk about
having lived in a place in another 
lifetime, and I had to pick a
place, this would be one of
them for sure.
I feel at home here straight after 
arriving at 10:30pm via Kuala
Lumpur and an 11 hour stopover.
I surprise myself with the 
confidence with which I lounge in 
the corner of a restaurant, order 
stuff, get served by guys without
shirts wearing old shorts, because
its clean-up and close-up time but 
the white gringo wanted some of
the last bits of food in the trays 
before they got cleaned away.


I speak one word of Chinese and they none of English. The teenage son was hauled out to face me, "Ze foreigner", at first but that wasn't neccessary after a while. The staff kept going, chatting, watching some comedy of manners and talking animated with each other.
The mentality, the approach, the attitude to life is soooo very different to where I normally live in Melbourne. Not bettter or worse, just so different.

Not many speak English here, but unexpectedly some do
"stand in line please" a lady tells me.
I surprise myself again by not minding that at all.
Ï'm trying to figure out if the bus goes to my hotel" I tell her. She very kindly ends up showing me where my bus stop really is.

There seems to be less fear of talking to strangers. Not the "Oh my god a stranger's talking to me" instant apprehension of inner city Melbourne. [Country people are not like that I found.] Or maybe I just look really harmless. Certainly the check in girl must have thought I was some absent minded professor when I couldn't get the electronic room door open. Turns out you have really crunch the handle down like crazy. Almost to point of brute force.

----------- 30Aug09 Sunday ------------
The hotel "Öle London" is nice but they charge for two persons per room and I don't want to afford that invisible companion (AUD $99 total).

A cockcroach falls on me at the first alternative hotel I look at. It started as a funny scratch at the side of the neck which I flicked off and onto the front desk. Turns out to be a roach lands onto the check-in desk. Not a good omen.
But maybe it was there in my shirt from overnight ? Don't know, these things happen.

I have no money to pay the hotel in HongKong Dollars. Banks are closed on Sunday. So money changing turns out to be interesting. There are changing booths in Senado Square I'm told. It's easy to get to, the hotel desk lady tells me. (Beware of that phrase "it's easy to find'.)
I have a choice to risk it and beat a track through tiny alleyes and curving streets to Senado Square or to play it 'safer'.
I decide to take the longer but surer route along main roads I can't miss according to the map (yea sure, ha ha ha ) . I get lost anyway. Out comes the trusty magnetic compass and old jungle and boy scout skills come to the rescue. That and the odd confirmation question from locals.

After asking 7+ people I finally find the exchange booth. Phew.
Then I realize: oh!!! this is literally around the corner from where I set out. With a little more adventurousness I'd have found it in a few minutes...and I'd have found exchange booths with better rates at that...
Oh well I got to know Macau better.
There's a little life lesson in this if I care to look. Hmmm.....

I am proud to say I can now get around most areas and have some idea of where I am. Compared to my time 3 years ago I'm feeling like an old hand. I even remember some of the vague glimpses of those frantic 1.5 days from memory and they fit into the overall picture.

At the HOtel the whole family comes out to eat behind the front desk. Somehow I like this mix of business and private, it feels nicer and more human to me than 5 star robotic friendlyness. However I could get used to both if I had to ... ;-P


"Knock, knock"
I open the door.
"You not check out ? Please pay".
Ok I pay my $280 Macau Patacas (Aud $45) - a bit upmarket for me, but hey the place feels nice.
The real cheap places tend to be overrun with red light activities.
The area I ended up in is the street of "felicidad" i.e. 'happyiness' - it used to be famous for happiness of the carnal kind. Most of that activity has shifted to the casinoes, closer to the punters, but some of it still lingers here I think.


-----------o(O)o--------------- 

I arranged to meet a group of locals and travellers in Macau on Sunday. I had never met any of them in person before.
In a strange new city I like to meet locals and expats, otherwise I tend to float like a cork, on the surface of life and remain the gringo tourist ready for the milking. I'll probably always be the gringo tourist, but there are ways to dive below the surface and meet locals and other travellers.
One of those ways is to meet likeminded, traveller friendly local & expat people in that strange new city. So 7 of us met at a famous ice cream shop on Sunday at 12.30. Four were local Macau residents, a lady who was studying business and has a wine import business, a final year High School student who wants to study in Europe, a Goverment employee in education who loves to travel and wants to visit 100 countries before he dies and a Japanese Macau resident who runs a business.
The foreigners were a group of exchange Univ students (Germany, Finland, Holland...) and a Japanese visiting her friend, + yours truly. Pictures here: Sunday meeting
We used this site www.couchsurfing.org to meet up.


Everyone met at a small inconspicuous ice cream shop that was famous for its ice cream sandwiches. Then the locals took us to eat at a REAL traditional noodle shop, we shopped for a new camera for the German exchange student. Our High School guide took the rest of us who stayed on for a tour of her favourite spots in Macau: the bisquit making, juice shop, super fresh tofu shop, backpackers place where a famous movie was shot. (thanks VL :-) ) Oh yea, and we found out about the graffiti scene in Macau, nothing like as full on as in Melbourne but some really nice stuff, with interesting ideas.
It seems that multinational marketing is getting really sophisticated: Apparently Coca Cola sponsored graffiti that subtly promotes their Zero Coke brand, but looks like a huge graffiti mural. Photo to follow once I manage to get a cable to connect the camera to the computer. [update: photo below]

that was it so far...
If I won Tattslotto, you can imagine what I'd be doing full time. :-)

Blowing my own trumpet a bit:

After 4 years of pushing, modest result in the newspaper: Heiko and the cypress trees being chopped at the Melb Gen Cemetery- here.
as they say, every dog has his day :-)
Travel tips by heiko here 

and by lonely planet below:
http://www.lonelyplanet.com/travel-blog/community/?p=1084


ch
H
'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....' - Leonard Cohen


Haiko's - blog list here or direct: life42 or backpacking or stories. --> Risks of being alive & Media :-) 

I walk with her, and I hear the gentle beating of mighty wings....
I hear the sound of her wings.... and the darkness lifts from my soul...

felling trees, making space, making Millions of $$$'s ?

2009-08-27T10:12:00.002+10:00

After 4 years of bringing this up the Melb Leader Newspaper has taken the story and asked the right questions. 
see below
heiko
HAVE YOUR SAY: Grave fears on tree scheme25 Aug 09 @ 12:27pm by Hamish Heard
Heiko Rudolph at the cemetery.
PIC IN SYSTEM N09ME309 
MELBOURNE General Cemetery's neighbours fear the felling of trees on its boundary fence is part of a plot to squeeze more graves into the necropolis. 
Carlton's Heiko Rudolph said the cemetery's failure to replace the 130 heritage-listed cypress trees that lined the cemetery until 2005 had raised eyebrows among nearby residents. 
"There's a bit of talk among the neighbours that maybe the motivation for this is about freeing up a bit of extra grave space," Mr Rudolph said. 
"These sites cost tens of thousands of dollars and it's no secret that the old cemeteries, where grave sites are highly sought after, are running out of space." 
Small trees replanted in the same position would allow for hundreds of new grave sites, reaping millions of dollars in revenue for the cemetery. 
Rod Shell, operations manager of the cemetery's management company, Necropolis, refused to rule out putting more grave sites on land left open following the giant trees' removal. 
"You never rule out things. Who knows what will happen, but there's no current plan," Mr Shell said. 
But the organisation was committed to replacing the trees and had begun planting in recent months. 
Heritage Victoria granted a permit for the trees' removal only on the condition that they were replaced with the same species. 
"The problem for us is that these aren't trees that are commonly grown any more and Heritage Victoria was insistent we use the exact species so we've had to actually cultivate the trees and there's been some difficulties in getting them," Mr Shell said. 
He said the trees were removed because of safety fears after several fell over. 
But Mr Rudolph said many residents remained sceptical about the reasons for the removal. 
"When they chopped them down, I inspected and photographed the trunks and none of them showed any signs of decay or decline," he said. 






http://leader-news.whereilive.com.au/news/story/grave-tree-scheme-fears-grave-fears-on-tree-scheme/

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....'  - Leonard Cohen


Haiko's -  blog list here or direct: life42  or backpacking or  stories. --> Risks of being alive & Media :-) 

I walk with her, and I hear the gentle beating of mighty wings....
I hear the sound of her wings.... and the darkness lifts from my soul...

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....'  - Leonard Cohen


Haiko's - blog list here or direct: life42  or backpacking or  stories.  --> Risks of being alive & Media :-) 

I walk with her, and I hear the gentle beating of mighty wings....
I hear the sound of her wings.... and the darkness lifts from my soul...

start: 0000-00-00 end: 0000-00-00

Transition thoughts... last travel email. ... dreamtime...

2009-07-24T17:14:00.004+10:00

Melbourne Monday 20Jul09, I'm back. Tired, but very very happy - one  of the best trips ever. 

Traveling is a bit like dreaming, once you are back the place you've been to fades out like a dream. Yet if you go there again, the other place fades. ... Dreamtime...walking...

This period of transition back to Oz, opens a window  of awareness as one country fades out and the other fades in.
so while it lasts here are  some transition thoughts...random as they come...

- It's nice being back. That  surprises me. It does not mean I don't want to stay away longer, I do, but it IS nice to be  back. Here things work, fast, efficiently, cleanly, well.
Stuff gets done. Jobs get ticked off all day.
That's a good feeling, that clean efficient, 'gettin' s*** done'  feeling.
What would take a leisurely hour or two in Yangon, gets done in 10 mins here. You HAVE to do it leisurely there, else you burn out real fast. Here you CAN do it fast. So I get a LOT done. Clothes are washed, dried, emails answered, 11 phone messages dealt with, bills collected, parcel from post office picked up, Uni courses sorted out, tutors sorted out, people met, updated on politics and key changes at work, weekend planned...etc...


- When going somewhere new it can be hard to get beneath the tourist-visitor surface.  I've eventually found a way to meet expats and locals interested in meeting travelers. It is, not surprisingly, an internet based thing.  www.couchsurfin.org,
one of them is a lady who works for http://www.businesskind.org/GoodJob.html


- walking around in Myanmar, was a different way of being. Not better or worse, - different.
It FEELS different, though it is hard to say in what way.  to illustrate: if someone steps in front of me, if a car squeezes into my path, or I get splashed with sludge from the street, that's ok, I just move around it, smile and get on with things. I genuinely don't feel annoyed, I don't even have to stop any annoyance. That's how it is. In a car, in a taxi the same applies.
   Back in Melbourne, or even in Singapore, people brush me carelessly,  step into my path, I feel irritated.
I feel I have a right to move along in my path and others need to keep out of it. Evening today as I slowly ride my bike on the footpath slowly, a lady waves and stand in front of me, then discharges her store of frustration on me for that. Footpath rage. We call each other names, I move on, the atmosphere and mood of Myanmar still protects me and it does not penetrate deeply.
  I'm sure such things exist everywhere, it is simply more or less visible, or hidden in different places. On the way to the Hotel in Yangon, I witnessed how one driver got out of a car and opened the door of another car, to hit the driver. Never ever seen this before. Road rage.
 I just read an article where an Indian lady gripes about her own country, a rather rude experience at Delhi airport her  story here.
  As a child in Germany I used to observe adults, and how they related to us kids. I saw how some of the older adults would sit and lie in wait for someone to give them a legitimate reason to discharge themselves. The lawn of the high rise flats where we lived were no-walking zones. Any adult who wanted to vent some anger simply had to wait for a kid to come along and walk on the grass and then they discharged themselves, with 'legitimate reason'.
  It was easy to see they didn't care about the grass, they wanted an officially acceptable reason to be 'in the right' and then they'd pack in all the frustration inside themselves and fire off a salvo. They just needed an excuse. But firing off at someone at random would be too crazy, so they waited, to see someone break some rule. Then they'd fire off. Kind of like psychic landmines. I like the modern American term "pushing some one's buttons". Very apt.
  Us, kids of the block, treated it as a kind of game, we'd bait the adults and set them off, like the challenge of setting off a mousetrap without getting your fingers caught. In my mind it was understood, that these were our respective job descriptions. Oldies just did that, they grumbled and bitched, and put down the 'decadent' Youngies. And Youngies had to provoke them, they wouldn't be normal and healthy if they just said 'yes, Amen, of course, whatever you say I will do' what kind of kids would they be who did that ? Not normal ones.
   So if hair was usually short, then the young ones had to wear it long. Anything to set the adults off. Unpierced skin ? Pierce it. No tattoo is normal - Young ones->Tattoo it. etc... But it was all cosmetic in the end. The youngies turned into grumpy Oldies and so it contiuned.
   Yep, I've noticed grumpiness zones in myself too, of course. Some of my friends know exactly what & where they are too :-) somedays I feel like a regular hairball mine, touch any hair and off it goes.



- Ah those grumpyness zones, those buttons... hm.... For the first time  I see what they mean by 'observe, don't judge'. I heard all that so many many times.
  But the reality is: Usually I don't want to observe myself, or be too aware because I will see things I don't like. "not like" =equals= 'judge' as 'bad', or 'not nice', 'undesireable', 'not good enough' etc... . the logical next step is to change those things.
   HOw ? by trying  not to do them, not to be them. this usually just leads to symptoms suppression and not any  real change. After a while the effort of suppressing symptoms is too hard. I give up, and go into normal, unaware mode again.
   Why not play a 'game' for a week ? The game is: I promise myself to make NO effort whatsoever to change whatever I see in myself. In fact the games is now reversed: I'm NOT allowed to try and change anything, just 'see' it. That is all, only see it.
No effort to 'improve', to 'fix' to 'change' to 'be good' is allowed in this new game.
Anyone who has done meditation, will recognize this is a classic technique. For some reason it never hit home so clearly before.
Ok lets see how I go for the next 7 days. An experiment.



After this email, I'll post any further thoughts on
 http://xylantheum.blogspot.com/
doing this means I won't fill your inbox with stuff you may not want. If you are interested to  read more, peruse that site, check it out every now and then, or use RSS feeds.

 All the emails sent on this trip the last 3 weeks are on:   http://heikorudolph.blogspot.com/     with new photos. 

Thailand seems to be going more thuggish - airport scams at:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8154497.stm




- Have you ever inverted a black and white photo ? White becomes black and black becomes white ? It's all just the same photo, all the same objects, same details, same shapes and everything, just inverted.
It feels like that to me being in  transition.
Where there was white in one photo, there is black in the inverted one. where there was dark grey there is now light grey.
It feels excatly like that now as I move from Myanmar to Melbourne again. Same photo, same image, same life on Earth.

- I used to think about going overseas to help those poor countries. (I know, there is a bit of a cringe as I write this, at the "do-goody" image of that, but hey' no 'fixing' allowed, that's what I really feel, politically correct, or cool, or not) So let me play the game of inverting the image: Let's pretend that I've been sent by the poor places, to aid those who are rich. Then this becomes the outpost.  My holiday was then not really a holiday it was a 'home visit', I'm out on mission again right now... . Hmm... Interesting perspective... Is all of life an outpost mission as some would claim ?

- Regarding 'helping' - These days I understand that I gain as much and more than I give. Is it therefore selfish or not ? It's not about  about such labels, it's really just about fear VS courage. Either just do it, or don't.
And when you don't do it, then at least be kind to yourself. Beating yourself will have the same result as beating another person: they will resent you...
I know, logically this makes makes no sense, how can I related to myself ? don't know, but we can.
More is possible than the mind can encompass or dream of.

A nice quote I heard:
"the future changes all the time, in the biggest ways often by the smallest of things" -

Tuesday 21Jul09 - teaching, lecturing.  - The idea of people discharging themselves is basically the same as nations discharging themselves, in what is called 'war'. In both cases there is usually a grain of justification, some genuine 'yes you are right and the other is wrong' but only a grain. Then that is used at the trigger for an avalance to let lose on the other.
on the personal level, between people this seems to work more subtley, the person able to hide from  themselves the fact that their reaction is way out of proportion to the 'injustice'.
Between nations, it is often easier to see this process, unless of course you are directly involved yourself.


- something that illustrates the difference of the climate between where I've just been and where I am now: When I'm in Melbourne and a stranger approaches me, my first reaction is defence.
Are they going to hit on me for money ?
Are they a nut case ?
Not that such thoughts are actually clearly elucidated in my mind, it's more of an attitude...
A few times i've reacted off hand to people who just wanted  to ask the time (oooops...), other times I had correctly spotted someone hitting me for money, 'spare change' or whatever.
 Yet these reactions  in me are automatic, it's how one is here.
A colleague told me the same experience: a tourist just wanting to ask directions, and he felt very suspicious, careful, totally unused to having strangers actually talk to him.
One approach is: guilty until proven innocent, the other is innocent until proven guilty.
Yet when I wander around Yangon, Moulmain, or other 'undeveloped' places in Asia, that suspicious nature falls off me (mostly, not entirely). People in the street will smile, there is an openness. Don't get me wrong, in the tourist hot spots lots of people are out to part a sucker from his money, and a healthy dose of defensiveness is useful to survive. Yet that is simply commonsense.





To all who have been reading these missives:  Thanks.



After this email, I'll post any further thoughts on
http://xylantheum.blogspot.com/
doing this means I won't fill your inbox with stuff you may not want. If you are interested to  read more, peruse that site, check it out every now and then, or use RSS feeds.

All the emails sent on this trip the last 3 weeks are on:   http://heikorudolph.blogspot.com/     with new photos. 



'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....'  - Leonard Cohen

Haiko's - blog list here or direct: life42  or backpacking or  stories

I walk with her, and I hear the gentle beating of mighty wings....
I hear the sound of her wings.... and the darkness lifts from my soul...