Overdue Seychelles Arrival Update

It was an interesting long journey from Bangkok to the Seychelles, it seems the best way to get here is through the Middle East! After a leisurely morning getting some last minute things done in Bangkok (one last massage, banana pancake & shake, sheets, and a haircut – 1^st one since July and I was really overdue!) I headed to Bangkok International airport (again,) and soon enough it was wheels-up for Doha, Qatar. The plane was almost empty (lots of room, yaay,) and landed after dark but the temperature was still over one hundred degrees and I was thankful for the air-conditioned bus waiting at the bottom of the stairs from the plane. I had a 7 hour layover and since the gate area didn’t open until shortly before boarding, I roamed the airport to pass the time. People-watching was a blast and I entertained myself trying to figure out other flyers’ back-stories. Wherever you go and whatever airport you happen to be in, business people all have the same look – weary and unhappy but smugly superior to all the tourists they act forced to endure. When people began to cluster in the area of my flight’s gate, I also tried to figure out which of us were bound for the GVI Project like me. The target would be solo, youngish, college graddy looking, with an excited, ready to try anything air, and practical clothes. Backpacks would be a mandatory accessory. Soon enough, a young, blonde, fresh-faced California-Girl type sat down next to me and pulled out a Sudoku book. Check on many major probable categories and it wasn’t long before we struck up a conversation, and sure enough, Sam from Malibu (but with an Aberdeen, Scotland accent,) was a volunteer too. The flight was packed, but we blatantly seat-hopped to sit together and talked for what seemed like the whole flight.

The plane landed on Mahe Island, Seychelles at 6-somehting AM and I caught my transfer to the Coral Strand Hotel where I spent a couple of days diving and hanging out on the beach before getting picked up by GVI. One by one, we gathered others from our group and by the night before the big day, there were 18 of us going out to dinner together and excitedly trading names, stories, and wondering what was in store for us the next day. Amazingly, I shared a hotel room with another American named Howard – a brand new Wake Forest Grad and DC native – small world again! One of the volunteers, Julian, was returning for the final 5 weeks of his 15 week project and the poor guy was nice enough to try to answer all questions thrown at him.

Early the next morning, taxis brought us to the Base for the project where we claimed beds in one of the three dorms, and got busy hanging mozzy nets and finding our way around. The site lies between some large rocky hills on the shore of Bay Ternay and used to be a camp for Seychellois teens, but now houses a couple of research projects and a military guard-dog training camp. Only a little bit is used for these purposes and there are abandoned, spooky looking buildings busily falling down all over the picturesque valley. It’s a 5 minute walk to the closest beach, and there is an amazing bay 10 minutes up the road, too. Palm trees and flowers grow everywhere – it’s a camera dreamscape any way you look.

Next we met the staff, got the tour and some guidance and it has seemed like a blur ever since. Daily teams cook all the meals, clean the whole camp, fill tanks, and work the boats in between classes and diving; plus there are weekly duties like checking safety equipment, shopping, and compressor, boat, and vehicle maintenance. As of this moment, not quite two weeks in, I’ve had 5 coral classes, a turtle class, 2 health and safety classes, a reef threats class, a reef protection class, a class on neighboring islands, an oceanography class, reef survey methodology classes, plus a morning and nightly briefing every day. Oh yeah, and a fire drill. Today I became a certified Coral Reef Research Diver – woohoo, another card. For those not already certified, there was a PADI Advanced Open Water Class and an Emergency First Responder Course that I didn’t need to take, so I’ve been one of the lucky ones with some free time. There are about 25 volunteers and we are split in half into Coral (me,) and Fish specialists and the amount of knowledge we needed to absorb in a hurry to be useful to the research was tremendous! Within a week, I’ve learned to spot 14 different families of hard corals and ID 47 different genera within them – in their Latin names! I can tell my Acanthastrea Mussidae from my Psammacora Siderastreidae, can you? To be allowed to do the research, we had to pass a test by a score of 95% or better. Most everybody fails it a couple of times – last phase only had one pass the first try – but four of us got it first time out and now we are doing our spot-check dives where the staff points out corals underwater and we hover as close as we can and figure out what it is. I got 25 in a row right yesterday until a tricky species of Montipora Acroporidae tripped me up. Next up are some soft corals, zooanthids, corallimorphs and anemones along with invertebrates like sea cucumbers, octopi and lobsters.

In case you were thinking this is some kind of vacation and I’m living it up out here, let me take you through my day today. I got up at 6AM, assembled my dive gear before breakfast, then went to the AM briefing. After the Methodology class, I was out on the dive boat for a 45 minute dive practicing laying two different kinds of transects, following patterns, and recording data. After hauling our gear back and cleaning everything, I helped people study for their 2^nd Coral Exam, did some laundry and then it was time for lunch. Right after, I had the wonderful job of Boat Bitch for the third dive. A quick lesson on the chain of command aboard ocean-going vessels: the captain is God and there are mates beneath him, then petty officers and crewmen with a skill, then next are the ordinary seamen and finally the cabin boys. Beneath them is the Boat Bitch. Well, on our little diveboat, there is only the skipper and the BB… I’m making it sound bad, but it’s actually usually lots of fun getting all the gear in place for the divers, taking down dive data, hauling anchors and safety gear and doing whatever the skipper needs. Today was the exception. As soon as the divers hit the water and I got my sunscreen applied perfectly, it began pouring down rain and the wind blew it all sideways under the boat’s awning. We still needed to do some repairs to the engine hydraulics and pump out the bilge (manually, of course.) By the time divers began to come up an hour later, we were soaked to the bone and freezing, but laughing about it through blue chattering lips. I manage to “fall” into the warm ocean several times and the long swim to the beach (so the boat isn’t high and dry at tomorrow’s low tide,) after we offloaded everything was kind of pleasant due to the 82F water temp. While the other volunteers were taking their 2^nd tests, I put gear away, drank three cups of hot tea and played a couple of hands of Hearts until dinner. It was lentil curry and rice (meat is only once or twice a week,) then we had some paperwork and PM briefing for tomorrow’s events. At 8, I borrowed the computer of my dorm mate Holly, and wrote this piece so I can upload it this weekend at the internet café in town, and soon, it will be bedtime when lights go out at 9. Tomorrow, I’m on tank fill duty in between two turtle snorkels and spot dives and a coral class.

If you are starting to suspect I love this you are very right! I’m having a blast! It is such a great experience and I’m lucky to be here doing this – it’s good for the earth and good for me, too. I’ve met all kinds of cool people on the project, from DC to South Africa and all kinds of places in between The group seems to be gelling pretty well and I genuinely really like just about everybody here. The GVI staff is enthusiastic, helpful and great and makes our participation seem important and valued. It’s not all work though, there have been some days off and they seem to include lots of the local beer and rum. Last weekend I watched the Rugby World Cup in town with a bunch of staff and volunteers then we hit a local dance club and tore it up until 5AM. Sunday was a beach day and I played volleyball in the water with some local kids and volunteers for hours. We even have a couple of soccer, (ahem – football,) games every week so you know I’m in heaven. The first time we played was sure a shock for the European volunteers when the team with the three Americans on it won 6-2! While I was far from the best player on the field, I got two goals, two assists and afterwards I was so proud when another volunteer asked me, “Who knew you could play like that?” Today’s game got rained out, but I have hopes for tomorrow or Thursday…

While most of the diving has been limited to coral spotting and I almost never get my head up off the reef, I have still seen some cool stuff. There are lots of nudis around, I’ve found turtles three times (including a beautiful Green turtle,) seen dolphins, and been snorkelling with whale sharks! The neatest of all was when, on a morning dive, we saw an octopus swim way up off the reef pursuing a lionfish! After an epic but one-sided struggle, the 8 armed victor settled back on the reef for its lunch and another octopus came over to check things out. I could have watched for an hour, but we had coral work to do, damn!

This coming weekend, we have both days off and half the volunteers are doing their Rescue class in Beau Vallon, so the rest of us are trying to find lodging nearby and have a nice break from camp life. Hot showers! Things are pretty crowded in the area because there is a Creole Festival going on, but I’ve got my fingers crossed… If you are reading this, it means I got somewhere with internet so maybe I got lucky.

OK, it’s getting late (9:50!! – and I used to be a nightowl,) so I’m going to finish my book (Vonnegut’s Thank You Mr. Rosewater,) it’s really good and calling me.

Stay Happy And Wet,

Clement

Bangkok - Part Deux Et Trois!

(It's been awhile since I've put anything up so I'm going to post this now, and then add pics in the next day or two, when I post about my volunteer project in Seychelles, so check back!)

I have made Bangkok sort of a hub for my SE Asia wanderings. Central, fun, cheap and modern - it has worked out great stopping in here for a day or two between expeditions. The first time back, before Cambodia, I replenished toiletries and bought my super new camera on the advice of Theresa, whose cool cam I'd envied in Koh Tao and Sulawesi. (For a demo, check out my flickr page and notice the quality of the photos from that point on...) This recent time I've also gotten a lot accomplished.

First off, I took two days of Thai Massage lessons. The academy was very thorough, I got all kinds of illustrations of the body's energy lines and what parts of the foot can be massaged to affect all the specific parts of the rest of the body's organs. I received a bunch of demonstration massages, watched some and got to work on the masseuses who had free time. By the end of the second lesson I was exhausted! I don't know how those slim, tiny girls have the strength to give massages all day, my arms and shoulders were aching - I needed another massage!

For my last full day, I decided to play tourist and booked a day-trip. On the schedule were a famous floating market, a visit to The Bridge Over The River Kwai, and the best was saved for last - the tiger temple!

I got an early start on a full mini-bus (only American again, of course,) and after two hours got a transfer to a longtail boat which took us to the market. It's a riot of color and noise with sales people parked in tiny skinny boats all along the sides of the canals, hawking a thousand different nifty souvenirs. Even better were all the little old ladies paddling around in tiny canoes selling fruit and cooked food. Many were even cooking right in their boats and I stopped to sample all kinds of new Thai treats.

Then we were off to the famous River Kwai Bridge, where the Japanese put thousands of Allied POWs to work as slaves to build a railway connecting Thailand to Burma. The officers and guards were brutal and ruthless and thousands upon thousands died completing the project - which was prompltly and repeatedly bombed by the Allies. The whole affair was just another example of the beastly way the Axis acted in WWII and would have been forgotten but for a successful movie and a catchy little whistled tune. It was interesting to see and the cemetary was respectful and moving, though the museum was kind of a disappointment.

Last of all, we took a two hour visit to a Buddhist Temple that has tigers roaming all over it. Well, not exactly roaming, but they definitely have a lot more freedom than you see in a zoo. The monks walk them on chain leashes like some overgrown striped Lab,... one that can rip your arm off if it feels like it! They had several tiger cubs around and they are really playful, I had one gnawing on my hand for a minute and I can tell you, it's not exactly like playing with Voodoo! There were also herds of wild pigs, antelopes and some cattle and water buffalos too. The monks really had to hold on tight when the tigers were led near the herds.

After a long minivan ride home, we all went out on Khao Sahn Road for my last night and then after a banana pancake and a quick hairtrim the next morning, (which was waaaaayyyyy overdue,) I headed to the airport (again,) for a long day's travel to the next stop on my adventure - the volunteer expedition in the Seychelles!

Some final Asia thoughts:

Sometime last week in Bangkok, right after I hopped off a river taxi and headed to my next discovery with barely a glance at a map, swerving through the packed crowd, crossing a crazy street while dodging wrongway scooters effortlessly, and checking out street vendors for that little bite of something I craved, a sudden wonderful feeling came over me. "I love it here," I realized. The crowds, smells, noise, language, strangeness, and mayhem had become second nature and I realized I am thriving in a very alien land. I felt really at home while being comfortable with the fact and knowing that I am very far from home.

My travel epiphany is that home and happiness is where and what you make of it. There is so much to the world, more than one person can ever hope to see, and that's OK so don't sweat it. Travel is not about where you go, the point is you see what you can and don't worry about what you might have missed, meet whoever you can and really pay attention to that person and learn a little something about their life and their world, see what is in front of you instead of missing it while looking ahead. THAT is the point. As it's been well and often said before - Life is a journey. And I'm really learning that it's all about the Journey, not just the destination...

On a lighter note, one of the best things I've learned is a way to fool the electric system in hostels. On the wall of almost every room, right next to the door is a plastic housing that you must slide your room key into to activate the electricity in your room. When you leave and take the key, all the power shuts off including the fan you are using to dry your recently hand-washed clothes. Simple solution - fold up some currency from the previous country (so no loss if it gets stolen,) in the shape and thickness of your key card and voila - dry clothes!

All for now, Ciao!
Clement

The American War

If you mention Viet Nam to any American, we all probably have visions of Apocalypse Now, Platoon, and all the hippie anti-war protests of the 60's. Our "involvement" here was our longest war, (so far,) running from JFK sending in advisors to Nixon's pullout. From the Vietnamese perspective, their recent wars, (ignoring centuries of fights with China and other neighbors,) began with WWII and the Japanese, then continued against the French until it turned into what we think of as the war - The American War. It didn't end there as the Vietnamese have had pretty major regional wars with Cambodia and China since we left in the '70's.

As an American visiting this country, I must admit I have been feeling conflicted about Viet Nam - a touch of guilt for all the dead and some of the things we did (massacres, Agent Orange...) a touch of hurt pride that we lost, and a touch of curioisity how this country would treat a visitor from the USA... I needn't have worried - it seems to be completely off of everyone's radar screen. The people don't care at all and if anything, act like the war is something we all suffered through equally. Oh, the museums have all kinds of information that I'm unsure of since it conflicts with what I learned growing up and how I believe Americans would act. But then again, My Lai happened, B-52's happened and made mistakes, and napalm and Agent Orange were thrown around pretty liberally, so what do I know. One of the most important lessons of the period for Americans is we discovered for the first time that we shouldn't always trust our government. I just remind myself that there are two sides to every story and what is history but a story told by people who wind up in the position to tell it. I can accept that there are just two truths about what happened here.

In the end, the kids are listening to MTV and American pop, American fast food is here, the place is as capitalistic as NY City and the dollar is preferred above the dong (the local currency,) by all the vendors and businesses. I wonder whatever happened to those Communist dominoes I learned about in International Relations...

I visited the War Rememberance Museum (government built and full of American war crimes,) and the Cu Chi Tunnels where the Viet Cong guerillas hid and fought and lived west of Saigon. The tunnels are an amazing feat of determination - over 250Km in length, three levels, and even under American military bases. Dug mostly by hand beginning with the war against the French, even the most modern military technology barely scratched their surface. We were lucky enough to have Billy Binh as our tour guide. He had fought on the American side (he even was stationed in Philadelphia and San Diego for a while,) and paid for it with four years in re-education camps when the Communists won in 1975. He told the stories of the tunnels with enthusiasm, grace, diplomacy, humor and a unique viewpoint as someone who had battled against the VC living there. We capped it off with a journey through these tight, (very tight - Vietnamese are tiny people,) dark passages. I was happy not to be first, but when the guide stopped to wave tourists around a confusing corner and a bunch of people bailed out an early exit, I wound up in the lead in the pitch black! I just kept waving my hands in front of me to keep from bumping into something, trying to encourage and describe what I was maneuvering around to those still behind me, and just kept on going until a dim light showed me the way out. Once out, it was pretty cool!

Some of us took the long way home on a speedboat through the Delta and then down the Saigon River back home. As I stood on the deck winding through the rice paddies and tiny towns, all it needed was a blaring 60's soundtrack to make the mental movie complete!

All in all, I loved the small part of Viet Nam I got to visit. The people are very friendly, even the taxi drivers bug you for a ride in a joking nice way and are not annoying and relentless like so many other places I've been. As I've written the food is awesome (and only got better since I last wrote,) the city is beautiful and I had a great time.

Next up: a couple of days in Bangkok before jetting off to the Seychelles for my volunteer project. The group of volunteers seems fun and enthusiastic - my inbox is full of meetup, dinner and diving plans for those of us arriving before the project starts on the 10th. (Or maybe they all just love "reply to all" a bit too much...)

Bon Soir,

Clement

Saigon Adventure!

I'm in Saigon (actually it's Ho Chi Minh City, but only the bureaucrats call it that,) and having a completely different time than in Phnom Penh. It's rainy season and crowded, loud and crazy - and really wonderful!


The traffic here is absolutely unbelievable, it is actually so bad that years ago most citizens got rid of their cars and bought motos since they are much easier to get around and park. As you can see, there are no traffic signals or signs, (they would get ignored anyway,) so if you waited for traffic to stop you would literally never get across... What you have to do is just step out and, no matter what, keep moving at a reasonably slow pace and they will flow around you. You must not lose your nerve or get rattled and speed up or stop because that will mess up the ones aiming to miss you and you will get hurt. I tend to just look for a slight gap right next to the curb and go, then don't look at oncoming traffic - I just saunter gently across, trusting that I will make it alive. It definitely takes a little getting used to! Even more amazing is that there don't seem to be any accidents. There are no glass fragments in any of the intersections like I see at home, and none of the vehicles have dents or dings. Maybe it's something VDOT should look at...






For those of you who know me, it should come as no surprise that for my first meal here last night, I went for Pho! I got hooked on this beef noodle soup years ago when I moved to DC, and if I haven't had some in a while, I get cravings. Those of you who I have introduced to Pho know what I mean, (and I'm sorry.) To the Vietnamese, who love Pho even more than I do, this national craze is like Hot Dogs, Mom, and Apple Pie all rolled into one - if you visited your Mom every day and she offered hot dogs and apple pie for all three meals. Maybe it's more like Coca-Cola... Anyway, I walked the entire neighborhood where I am staying twice looking for the perfect bowl. There are SO many options: little shops, family places, chains, push-carts and gourmet - all on every block. Plus, all the other restaurants have it on their menus as well. If I went into the local KFC, (and sadly, there are a bunch,) I bet I'd find Pho on the menu there, too! I finally picked a place named Pho Hung, right around the corner from my guesthouse and ordered a bowl. You get to choose your cuts of beef, and I went with eyeround, well-done flank and fat brisket. Moments later it appeared steaming in front of me and I took a deep whiff, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, this is gonna be good.." The waitress put all the additionals in front of me: limes, chili peppers, whole stems of basil and lemon grass, sprouts, hoisin sauce and spicy sauce, and I quickly added just what I like. I grabbed my spoon and chopsticks, gave it a couple of stirs and hoisted a stickful... Wow, what flavors! What taste! It's so damn good! Sadly, this bowl was the best pho I've ever had. I say sadly because I don't know how I'm ever going to repeat that experience when I get home. I'm ruined. I guess I'm just going to eat a ton of it while I'm here and then suffer forever...

I walked all over town today, trying to get a good feel for the people and visiting several markets, museums and pagodas. I also tracked down a coffee shop mentioned by Lonely Planet. Yes, that's right, I said coffee. I've managed to avoid my genetic pre-dosposition for caffeine dependency for a long time, but I've been hiding something that happened to me in Bali: I had a cup of coffee I loved. Don't worry, Mom, it's under control, (he says - hands jittering as he holds the blackened spoon and fills up the needle...) it's just part of this "explore the world" trip I'm on. I felt like doing the authentic local experience like I've seen immigrants do in my pho places at home and I tried something new with my awesome meal at the Pho place last night. But things took a turn for the worse, and it's name is Iced Milk And Coffee. French press Vietnamese coffee and condensed milk in a tall slim glass over ice - yummy! So when I read in my guidebook this morning about a super place named Seranta near a museum I was about to visit, I tracked it down and took another hit. I think I might be in trouble.

I like more on the Vietnamese menu than just Pho, and the cuisine here is excellent. It's hard to describe, but very special - kind of like Chinese with attitude and a French flair. Their liquor is interesting and different, too. I'd heard about the cobra liquor and while wandering from neighborhood to neighborhood and museum to pagoda today, something in a shop window caught my eye. There were some huge glass jars, (the kind that you see in museums with medical horrors inside, preserved and staring out at you,) with rearing cobras and scorpions floating around. I stepped in to get a closer look, and when the shopkeeper approached, I pretended to be looking for a bottle of water while I worked up my courage. He was really friendly and I suspect he saw right through me, but he was way too polite to mention it. When he gave me my change for the water and saw me slyly examining the jar on the shelf behind him, he waved towards it and said in seriously accented English, "I have every day. It makes me healthy and strong..." and then he made a certain hand signal which would the makers of Viagra would probably love to be allowed to put in their advertising. Seizing the opening, I asked some questions (not about that, pevs!) and learned that it's real snakes in some kind of rice liquor or wine and there is cobra blood in there, too. We talked for a while until I finally worked up the courage and asked for a shot or glass, however it came. Too bad, he only sells it by the bottle, but when he realized I wasn't going to buy a whole one, (can you imagine getting THAT through customs???) he went in the back and returned with his jar (a cobra, a scorpion, and several other unidentified snakes thrown in for good measure,) and two shot glasses - "Well, there's no getting out of this now," I thought. He dipped a glass in and handed it to me and then filled his own. With a clink and a deep breath on my part, down it went. A little fiery, slightly sweet, but it didn't taste anything like cobra. Of course I have no idea what cobras taste like anyway, but it was definitely better than the Italian grappa I tried one time. We laughed and talked for a bit, "where you from" kind of stuff, but he wouldn't let me pay him when I tried to. As I walked down the street, I took a mental inventory of how I felt - maybe a little tingly in the extremities, but I could just be imagining it. I'll have to get back to you on the long-term effects. Maybe;)

As I sit here in an internet cafe at almost 10PM, the place is packed with Vietnamese kids playing World Of Warcraft and some Kung Fu fighting games. But the most amazing part is the little boys on either side of me who are linked online and madly (and loudly,) playing some kind of Covert Ops shoot-em-up... One looks about six and I just asked and found out the other is three!!! He's not doing that great, his older brother keeps popping him the way Martin always toys with me at Halo, but I'm still impressed he's even capable of getting it at his age.

That's all for now, I'm off to meet up with some people to go out... I'll write about the Cu Chi Tunnels and the Mekong Delta later.

So Long,

Clement