Coptic Christ

after spending 3 months or so out on the road on our own in various countries, we've now attached ourselves like symbiotic cleaner fish to the underside of an Egypt site-seeing tour. this basically consists of stepping gingerly through a series of hoops and turning around to help our elders through. we have subverted the system however, making an escape from the enormous Nile-boat we're on in order to take a brisk walk to a McDonalds/Internet Cafe.
actually this portion has been very posh and comfy just a bit rushed.
the wedding was very beautiful and moving and everyone on both (diametrically culturally situated) sides was in very high spirits. it was a celebration of a love that no one could have expected-or something like that. Linz has an awesome new sister. there were dancers in traditional costumes banging drums and swinging swords over their heads. and an uncle who passed out in the lobby at 7pm. and swarthy men thrusting and stomping and holding hands in a circle for several hours. and cute kids. after the lights came on and the music ended, Linz and I went out for drinks and declension with the Swedish videographer and her Lebanese/Saudi boyfriend to a bar named after me. everyone knows everyone elses family name and some defining characteristics and where they're from. Like they'll ask the last name of Linz's new
family-in-law and go "oh, from Balbek. very strong. very direct." which is like dead on.
beer and pool at their apartment, and we went back to the plush hotel.

oh, and we saw the pyramids and the sphinx and a really old (300 a.d.) church and synagogue and all that stuff is beyond words.

no, you are a dumb ass-kiss

hi. i am in the syrian capital and also a place in the bible. if i remember correctly. i had some really awesome dreams last night. 'Infinite Jest' really blew my mind, the chapter i was reading, just before i went to bed. probably the most impressive book i have read in 'a really long time'.
just walking around.
going to beirut in the morning.
if you are reading this there is a good chance i love you.
dan

Aleppo, Syria

so we haven't really been doing this justice. the blog. although, you can find some of our pics on facebook now. will be putting up some here too shortly. in this period of virtual blog silence we have had some really great times. Olympus- site of the Chimerae (a mountain that exudes flames) and a beautiful, global-hipster scattered beach. some of our Cappadochian austrian friends came along with us. one night we attempted to make a fire ("luki was a boyscout") and the next we actually made one, went skinny dipping in the mediterranean etc.
oh, did i mention the underground city in Cappadochia?
we motorbiked up to this sign reading "Mavi Underground City", alongside which this guy with a shovel and a healthy sweat waved at us. Now the thing is in Cappadocia that there are all these underground cities carved out of the soft rock where former inhabitants, mostly the christians, deigned to retreat when invaders (arabs, mongols, turks, etc.) uh, invaded. they could live down there like 6 months at a time without surfacing, like the sperm whales of ancient pacifists. there are huge granaries and wine cellars, booby traps, secret passages....but i digress. the thing is these places are really impressive but we rode up to some and they were clotted with carpet-sellers and waddling gapers, so we travelled on.
Mavi was totally the opposite. In fact, Isa, the aforementioned shovel-guy, is probably the epitome of what I think the tourism industry should be i.e. give people an undeniably enjoyable experience, then give them more stuff, free food, tell stories, free wine, bob hope, etc.
we followed him through multiple levels in the light of a gaslamp, climbing up narrow chutes and lowering ourselves down scary holes. he'd dissapear and pop up behind us, or take Lindsey away and make me count to 100. super fun.
after we bought some food at the little super market and he cooked it all up for us on the same gas can he'd lit the caves with. everyone in town seemed a little wary of him, probably because he was so at home in the supposedly haunted underground. also, he was not devout, but we did talk religion and his ostensible heart seemed well aligned.
we directed the austrians to him, and they went the next day in a rented ford cabrio and ended up giving Isa a ride back to Goreme, where we all were staying, so we hung out together by the pool at our hostel the next day.

***

from Olympus we went to Kalkan and the villa that Mac found for us, him and Rana, and Debbie to spend a relaxing chunk of pre-wedding time. damn it went fast. We went on a boat trip, went to beaches, sat in the sun, cooked meals, drank good turkish wine. I think everyone had a really good time, if too brief of one.
Also, i left my passport in the safe of the hostel in Olympus (Saban, two thumbs up) when we left. which: worried me slightly. but i called and got in contact with the aussie guy who worked there and dispatched him to dispatch the Max and Luki (Austrian) with the passport to come to Kalkan. so we had a great night of inter-family-national dining fun. and thank god for good-hearted austrian proto-scholars, since U.S. passports fetch like 20 large on the dark market.
this moment marks more or less the end of 30 hours bus transit from Kalkan to the here and now Aleppo, Syria. the border was not tough. we took a bus from Antalya to Antakya (Antioch of yore, yarr) and another for 10 lire from Antioch to Aleppo, except of course we are Americans and as such, sans-Visa, we were forestalled at the border for a couple of hours (you're not supposed to be able to enter Syria without a Visa obtained in the states). It was a little tricky but this one nice border guy pled our cause. After that this old man told us he would find us a hitchhike ride, which he did, and we came to Aleppo. where we are now, and hungry. not much i can say about the place at this moment.
tomorrow Damascus, and then Beirut.
Yay-rut!!!!
Dan

Olympus

backlit in the warm wash of divine fire, prone upon a well-grooved stone, Lindsey lay on the mountainside, lulling to sleep with the murmur of voices and hushed roaring of geothermal flames...beside her a quiet, self-contained German girl, also reposed. two austrians, me, and a Turk closer to the flames, upright, fervor-fed by the several fires dotting the mountain and eyes. "I am not sleepy," the Turk. Nor, nor, nor. Gnoshing the Nar (pomegranate) we'd liberated from the trailside trees.

lap of luxshry

the scatterbug ramble having tranzished into a cliff-side villa convalesce looking on a quaint Middle Sea port. on our way to a 20km beach that alternately submerges and obscures various greek/roman/middle age ruins. more to come.

Cappa what! Cappa Who? Cappa Dokya!

Hı
There ıs a place ın turkey that often ıs exclaımed as the hıghlıght or moonplanet whıch enthralls tourısts of every ılk. Austrıans wıth a tatonka fascınatıon to a spanıard wıth a chısel and sculpture vısıon to amerıcans afraıd of future terrorıst attacks, Cappadocıa has become a haven for us westerners. Thıs creates a southeast asıa-esque townscape, not ın look but ın convenıence - ınternet to pancakes to cafes to corner stores to burgers to chıps to pensıons on every corner. However thıs has not deterred us from explorıng the cavernous bars and exudıng coolness and musıcal prowess. Dan has morphed ınto DJ DANNY and dont forget ıt, he has been the house dj of thıs bar for 3 nıghts standıng and has only turned down the full tıme job because he has an aversıon to lıvıng lıke a caveman plus hıs gırlfrıend lınz was not allowed to rıde theır horses for free. So here comes the next story - ı wanted to rıde horses for free so ı befrıended horse people who then used my love of horses as a pawn ın theır frıendshıp feuds. Well we rode horses ın the valley of love but ıt was devoıd of the free love we were expectıng. We returned to realıty paıd up and ran from the gıant mastıff mıx. I sat and contemplated ın a cave and watched the sunset over the tour buses whıle dan had hıs ear talked on by an austrıan amnesıa survıvor. So here ı am we have spent the last 24 hours eatıng small quantıtıes of fruıt cheese and bread, lyıng by the pool, talkıng about the ubsurdıty of genetıc mutatıon and rehabıng our braıns for the beach and the much needed meetıng wıth Mom Mac and hıs gırlfrıend rana......yeah for famılıar faces. Onwards and upwards to the bus or as ı call the cocoon.

slack-jawed gapın'

well well well.

this type of stuff.
some of thıs. Mazı Underground Cıty wıth Isa aka the sole guıde and proprıetor, warden,mayor etc of the honeycomb labyrınths beneath a rıng of soft rock, 7 levels deep, cold, dark, slıghtly erodıng and certaın death ıf we hadnt had a guıde. the thıng ıs loaded wıth booby traps. after a few hours he took us to a market and we got tomatoes peppers onıons garlıc sausage eggs cheez and bread and he cooked ıt altogether over the gaslamp\stove and we drank wıne and told storıes.
afterwards we rode the motorbıke ın a bıg loop through these alıen sand and rockscapes pocked wıth caves wıth varıous levels of ınhabıtatıon. wıne tastıng met a turkısh sıtcom actor/extended wıne tastıng enthusıast. had our faces saturated wıth volcanıc dust - haırs/pores/between-the-teeth, upnose, ın ears on a long stretch of road-ın-maıntenance.
then ı DJ'd for a nearly empty bar for free drınks and we got offered jobs for the second tıme ın turkey. thıs tıme a lıttle more ıntrıguıng.
we've met some kınd, charısmatıc,creepy,loquacıous,tough,expansıve,ınterestıng,modest,honest,devıous,shy,stalwart,confused people here ın Goreme.
the scenery of course ıs lıke Dalı backdrops meet quest for fıre (google search Cappidoccıa, Turkey).
Its hard not to lıst, ıts hard to synthesıze themes ın the moment.
gettıng on another 12 hour overnıght bus ın 37 mınutes.
A strange somewhat troublıng synergy/coıncıdence ı,m halfway through steadıly readıng the magnum opus of a wrıter who hung hımself earlıer thıs week. ı wıll keep readıng ıt.
as ı always seem to subconscıously ape the flow of what ı read ın what ı wrıte, ı want to acknowledge the guy or say maybe thıs ıs a trıbute or somethıng to the affect of expressıng a sadness or else apologıze an admıt confusıon. an older austrıan traveller who claımed she,s recoverıng from amnesıa by travellıng around to relearn what the world ıs advısed me that actıng crazy, chıldlıke and practıcally obtuse wıll never get me ınto trouble. ı wonder.
ok gotta run




lıstenıng to a commercıal behınd me on the tv wıth mellow sarah mcclaughlın style lılıthıa and a swart grızzled male voıce-over extollıng the qualıtıes of a glass of salty mılk-product over ıce.

People!!!!! Please!

'I asked Mrs Palin's supporters there if there were any specific policies of hers they admire. None could name a single one, but that did not seem to dampen their admiration.'

from: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7617411.stm

the other prominent questıon beggared by thıs artıcle ıs: who would wın ın a street brawl: "an army of football moms or proffessor matthews and 'other femınıst wrıters'"?

let me know what you thınk.

We travelled from the lushness of the lord of the rıng-esqu mountaıns of the north east to an envıronment most of us Amerıcans relate wıth Turkey - mules trundlıng over sandy mountaıns of thousand year old ruıns. Our rıde up to the *heads* as we call them had as many stops as a soccer moms mınıvan, we bought bread beer wıne cucumbers more bread some tomatoes and then proceeded to dole out our goods to the vıllagers who exchanged the goods for 5 mınutes holdıng a baby or a couple empty water jugs to be fılled. The drıver was accompanıed by hıs good frıend the cook of our hotel and they decıded a roadsıde pıcnıc was just the thıng after our errands. Slıced fresh tomatoes and cucumbers doused wıth salt wıth hunks of bread and we were off to the heads! Ive attached someone elses pıcture to gıve you an ıdea. We saw them at sunset and spent sunrıse wıth theır wıtherıng stares and now we are back ın Malatya on our way to the tourıst paradıse of Cappodocıa. The bus ıs our new home lıke a cocoon we get to emerge from as butterflıes.

all over the (m)aprıcot

made ıt to Malatya-aprıcot capıtal of the old world- about 7 thıs mornıng. on our way now to see the sun set over the gıant mysterıous stone heads a la Easter Island but ınstead wıth fezes on and tıdy goatees.
Yella

cars trucks buses

loved that R. Scary book. I probably knew as soon as 5th grade hockey tournament dealer-style blackjack bus journeys that I like passenging over long and preferably indetermınate perıods. Lınz and I are sıttıng ın the bus statıon of Trabzon, Turkey- Center of hazelnut, cherry and tea exports to Georgıa, Ukraıne, Russıa, Bulgarıa, Romanıa. we went to a really stunnıng clıffsıde greek orthodox (abandoned) monestary thıs afternoon, accompanıed by, gasp, actual other tourısts. Havent seen many of those. Nıce to speak Englısh wıth strangers. One was a just-released Peace Corps guy from Chıcago cum Azerbıjan who ıs makıng hıs way back to the West. Another was a retıred Ozzy school teacher (71 y.o.) scraggly gray beard who passes hıs tıme travellıng and takıng part ın Amerıcan Cıvıl War reenactments. He ıs a decorated confederate soldıer.
Anyways the clımb up to thıs monestary was lıvely and ıts lıke Mesa Verde tucked ınto the shelter of a great black stone half dome, wıth 19th century frescoes and renovated quarters though the masonry ıs all orıgnınal. Really beautıful, and on the Western wall of a beautıful, narrow and steep lush green conıferous valley.
now we are on en route to the ınterıor cıty of Malatya where I'm told by el pea that there are some marvelous gıant dısembodıed heads to be seen.
I feel sorry for the men of asıa that so many of them wıll never know the pleasure of readıng a good book on the can-as they have just holes to squat over ın many places.
stayed at a rıdıculously well-scrubbed hotel last nıght, and probably ıt was not a brothel. there are a notorıous lot of 'Natashas' ın these parts, post sovıet meltdown.
cheers

Unye

ı suppose its been awhıle. we are in a small black sea town ın Turkey- just got some pıcnıc supplıes and are gonna look for a mınıbus to gıve us a lıft to the beach. forgıve me for not dottıng all of my i's. the camera made another mıraculous recovery and perhaps we'll be able to take some pıctures. It beıng Ramadan (Ramazan ın Turkısh) ıt ıs extremely hard to get prepared food or drınk after 5am and before 730pm. Bakerıes are stıll open, but ı could really go for a hot tea rıght now. oh well. the bus from Istanbul had the most comprehensıve servıce ever. after buyıng our tıckets, the extremely-good-natured drıver took us to a swarma stand and bought our dınner. on the (overnıght) bus trıp we were served lıke 10 cups of water, three teas, two pre-packaged sponge cakes, and lots of hand sanıtızer.
Istanbul was awesome for 5 days and agaın lıke the last tıme we came I feel a strong sense that I could lıve there and despıte my lımıted comparıtıve database feel lıke ıt ıs one of the most ımpressıve cıtıes. Faırly well expensıve though.
We ate kebabs and pıta pızzas and lentıl soup and raw tomatoes and these small warmed-bun dıpped ın tomato sauce hamburgers that are the turkısh equıvalent of crack. people flock to thıs one corner where there are 4 or 5 of these burger stands and just stand there dıgestıng untıl there ıs room for one more.
we only rallıed our jet-lagged, rubber-legged asses out for one nıght on the town- drank beer and smoked nargıela (hookah/waterpıpe) ın these sprawlıng streets of cafe upon packed-to-the gılls cafe, people watchıng, then eventually up to a reggae club for some dancıng, then to a metal club for some turkısh people have the best haır/facıal features/facıal haır ever for metal type reflectıon. the metal ıtself had a lot of loyal fans but ı thought ıt was more on the cheese sıde of the cheese/brutal spectrum.
one awesome thıng about Istanbul ıs that when you leave some metal club at 4am there are stıll plenty of old men drınkıng beer and talkıng at lıttle cafes to make you feel more a part of the greater human famıly rather than, say, a vampıre. Tıme really flıes when you are drınkıng beer slowly and talkıng.
I'm clandestınely eatıng a banana at thıs ınternet cafe, ashamed and guılty of my ınfıdel's need for food durıng daylıght.
ANyways
to the beach
love and salutatıons
dan

cream of sum yung gai

i made it out of laos and into the land of smiles. although, at present it is also a land of tear-gas induced grimaces and bloody baton battered fat-lips, i.e. there are protests, riots and strikes going off in thailand at the moment, in opposition to the former in-exile PM whom the opposition considers to be influencing the current administration. Or something. For us, that means the trains are not running so we'll be taking an overnight bus instead. Political dissent can be so inconvenient.
my last few days in Laos passed pleasantly. Just walked around to various wats (buddhist temples) in the town of Luang Prabang, including one at the top of a long winding stair up the side of an impressive hill, wherefor to see the entire settlement and to appreciate that it enclosed on all sides (with just the river carving a low route through) by some very impressive limestone/karst mountains wearing dark green jungle garments and ostentatious billowy cloud hats. The boat racing festival was just kicking into gear as I left, as it falls on the last weekend of each month. I saw people practicing though, its like crew with more people-per-boat, short stumpy paddles and dugout canoes rather than carbon fiber whathaveyou. its ok though, because during the festival the governor is in town and the curfew of 1130 is strictly enforced, meaning walking down the street at 12 can get you thrown in jail.
I split the journey from LBP to Vientiane in two, allowing me to go out on the vaunted 'backpacker mecca' (copyright Lonely Planet 2008) town inbetwixt.
I think I was the old man of the town. but i met up with some brits/israeli's/germans and one girl from Millbrae all of whom I'd met bowling in LBP. Also, i wandered around the 4 square block extent of the 'foreigner oasis' and beyond, encountering a mini-night-carnival with bumper cars, jumpy things, a merry go round, and throw-darts-at-balloons-to-win-beer games. i was the only falang and nobody seemed to enthusiastic about my presence, so i skulked back off to whitey ghetto.
this was a very low-denomenator bar scene established to compliment river tubing. basically it was many clumps of 19-24 year old brits (with some israeli's, germans, dutch thrown in for exotic flavor) rehashing tubing highlights, and getting stoopid dunk viz-a-viz a beer bong and free rice whiskey shots. i had some ok conversations, observations and also ignited a dinner conversation about comparitive religion that was really interesting i.e. everyone talking about their idea of what it is to lead a good life and what god might be, and personal admissions of struggling with various religions various precepts and the quest for knowledge and divine support- and then going out and getting obliterated. only a few of those involved passed this consistancy test.
nobody seemed to notice we were in Laos, which country is rightfully inhabited by Lao people.
i got a tiger-balm massage two days in a row.
i can't remember if i blogged this but i had two consective great days in LBP that really changed my opinion of the place from grotesque-yuppy-synthetic-look-at-the-charming-local-culture to append that it also has some nice waterfalls and jungle around it. swam in waterfalls and jumped off waterfalls and slid down terraced waterfalls on my ass, rode (another) elephant but this time got to sit right on top of the elephant bare back, fed a baby elephant, watched a poisonous snake paralyze a frog in someone's kitchen, rode a mountain bike with iffy breaks up and down lots of hills through villages, sat out a heavy squall on the banks of the muddy mekong under the awning of a french cafe, fine-tuned my inadvertant British accent, kayaked for 4 hours while my guide sang in Lao and Thai down a sluggish, flat river in the jungle, etc.
played some guitar at the bar last night complete with mic and amp and a crowd. there was a lot less of a crowd by the time i finished.
on to bankok tonight or tomorrow and then...................
TURKEY!

Dan

MutMee, Mummys and Old Age

Hi! Dan and I are not breaking up, and loner time does not equal a synonym for breaking up, we just were within 4 feet of eachother for well over 2 months soooo...we decided to severe our umbilical cord connecting us and try out being an I. Tonight I get to see Dan again!!! I will show him all I've learned of Nong Khai - mostly that has included a place w/ bratwurst and 2 guys who know Mac, the bartender/owner/workers of mutmee guesthouse, some 60 year old expats w/ their thai gfs and this sculpture garden, i think he will be impressed. I have had a really great time here, and even brought out the pencil and paper to do some sketchings. This lady sitting at MutMee- is me in 40 years, an that's the mummy. Miss you ALL! Love Linz

Linz Loner time in Nong Khai

Across the border from Vientiane I have finally figured out where Mac was for that year in Thailand teaching Calculus and swing lessons in 2000 - my senior year of highsschool. I snuck into his old cafe and spied the German cafe owners who he was fond of, I even walked eccentrically to locate the "big white school" in town. This town for me hasn't brought me avid students of swing but instead has become my respite to cure my sniffling nose in an oasis of recently flooded Mekong promenades. Today I ate my first bite of cheese in a week - this is a life record and a good sign that I am on the mends. I'm staying at a jolly guesthouse where I've adopted a Malaysian Australian who is a first time traveler and follows me on my bike through the rice paddies like I am his white haired guru. We saw the sculpture garden today - and a mummy. The man who decided to build enormous buddhist, dogs riding motorcycles and hindu sculptures out of cement in the late 70s in the middle of jungle on the border w/ Laos, also decided to mumify himself and place his body in a bubble with the base covered in blinking christmas lights. Nothing could top this experience, so I decided to spend most of the afternoon feeding giant catfish who hurled their bodies out of the water for my pellets.
If you're wondering Dan and I are taking this time to recenter our selves so that we can come back together and be stronger than ever = linz loner time.

Love Linz

not much drama in the LPB

hello.
i am here in beautiful Luang Prabang, former royal capital of Lao, alleged site of one of the buddha's footprints, confluence of two c0fee colored rivers.
its hell of yupped-up with two big tblsp of Booj.
and yet,
i went to a waterfall today, accompanied by two blokes, and it was staggeringly tall and i climbed up about it and stood beneath some of its lower-volume sections, and swam around in the wicked cross currents at the bottom, and did cannonballs off of smaller falls further down. it was really fun, and probably the most exercise as I have had in, oh, 2008.
now i am off to utilize the remaining 5.5 hours of the life of this town for the day of August 26, 2008- there is a strictly adhered to 11:30 curfew. got to keep things family friendly- there are tons of yuppy pods navigating the ethnic goods night market.
be careful out there, and enjoy my favorite music video of all time (good even if you don't have sound) :
ween-voodoo lady

sincerely your
dan

Lao BOW

Hi!
We made it out of Vietnam in the nick of time. Packed tightly in a bus resurected from the 1970s we trumbled through the Central villages of Laos. Every mile or so we slowed to a slow rumble to consume more people, animals and noodles on our roof, in the aisles and on my lap. A mix of Thai, Lao, Vietnamese and English were spoken however we never understood what was going on. The leader, a lao man dressed in camo proceded to bribe the customs agents while giggling and holding a giant wad of money, he hassled the passengers who decided to bring giant containers of salted fish and screamed SAVAY!!! at the top of his lungs for most of the 7 hours, luckily I was reading a book about riding local trains in India so this trip seamed like a piece o cake. We stopped briefly to buy chickens on sticks from the local children, Dan and I had only doll-hairs so we were nervous to buy the whole stick chicken, stuck w/ sprite and sticky rice i looked enviously on the crowd slurping down freshly speared and fried chicken parts. I think as a bus we consumed 47 chickens. Well, with the rain subsided, the mekong brimming with life and the people as jolly as swedish at the beach we are in Laos. So far we've met a German who wants to open a French Bakery but doesn't think the people are communist enough, we drank beer and we aren't on a bus. Talk to you soon.

yes Hue

after a four day trip to the central highlands we are in Hue for the night before jumping into Laos tomorrow as our Visa's are expiring. it's been a bit rushed due to our visa miscue (we could have gotten 30 day visa's but put an earlier leave by date on our applications thinking it wouldn't matter), but I am excited to have some time in Laos, where we will go to Savannakhet tomorrow and then Vientiene and possibly Luang Prabang before reporting to Bangkok for our flight to Istanbul. in the highlands we got minorly scammed in Buon Ma Thout when our motobike drivers for the day asked us out for beers after our tour - - - and then blank-faced when the bill came several hours later. oh well. more damage done to our trust than to our wallets, we scraped our way through another confusing local bus ticket buying experience to go to Kontum, a smaller town about 60 km north of there. determined to make our own way and not give an inch, we rented a motorbike (a cross between a scooter and a motorcycle and about 90% percent of the traffic mass in SE Asia.) since it was a lazy, small town without much traffic i was not as intimidated to do so as in the cities. i don't think i was graceful and linz didn't really trust me enough to ride behind for most of the day, but it was fun. we met this guy who worked at the church (a cool old french affair-most of the ethnic minorities in this area are Catholics) and he offered to take us to some villages, or rather lead us to them with us behind on our own bike. it was cool, opposed to the 'village' we went to outside of BMT, these were actually inhabited by honest-to-god villagers. slowly, trust seeped back into our hearts. we went to 5 or 6 villages and cruised through some pretty agricultural lands -bananas, coffee, sugarcane, bread-trees, manioc root, rice (in the gullies and near the river) and corn. i played volleyball with some kids and linz took pictures of some squeeling tottlers. we went to the orphanage by the Church where westerners come for babies. it was nice and the kids were happy and we went up to the tottlers room and were accosted by little kids who wanted to be picked up, where our sunglasses and moto helmets. grab onto our legs etc. the director spoke very clear english and had fought with the american side but as he only spent two and a half years in a prison camp after the war, was not allowed to emigrate to the U.S. After the tour the owner of the Moto shop invited us out for coffee. warily we excepted and it was very nice, although i was odd man out not speaking Vietnamese. after coffee we went out for karoake, taking turns singing in our own languages-really loud speakers in this small private room to the accompanyment of generic synthesizer music. We scored a hundred percent doing a duet on 'killing me softly'.

today we took an incredibly wound road through several jungle passes and some lush, remote hills descending to the ocean and up through Da Nang, across the DMZ and into Hue. Its impossible almost to imagine the violence that went on here, or to associate what our senses tell us with the war stories/books/movies we've grown up with. People we've met in the last few days seem to either giggle with shy xenophobia or take an avid interest in us, and I haven't detected any ill-will whatsoever. we sat next to three 70-odd year olds on the bus who are from the north and they seemed thrilled that we were there, laughing and talking and just plain looking throughout much of the two hour ride from Da Nang to Hue.

Now i'm waiting for linz to come back from the hotel to this internet cafe because she has all the money. hence the long, rambling post.

hope everyone is well, love you
happy birthday Grandpa!
Dan

BMT

rode an elephant in a river today. coffee plantations, hill tribes, waterfalls.
where is everybody?
sound off

Yo YO Yo

Samurai!
Respect. know what ahm sayin'
dj samurai take us downtown vietnam samurai style to meet family and eat shells ya'll. very near airport watchin' planes up on the top top very big yo.
Meet Mafia, Police, and Sony. nice to meet you nice to meet you.
dan linz and dj samurai children of jupiter born in the big bang y'knowatahmsayin'...
slurpin' snails, clams grilled corn beer.

made the nightclub circuit one more time- irish bar/lush/apocolypse now/go to bar. each step of the way it gains an increment of skeeze. linz had to save me from myself dancing all the way through the night.

we realized this morning that we mistakenly told the visa guy in Cambodia that we only intended to stay in VN through the 20th, whereupon he issued us Visas that only last that long, with no option of extension. so.....that changes things a bit but i think we are going to the inland mountain highway tomorrow and hiring 'easy riders' (250 cc motorcycles) to take us on a 4 night trip north.

did you know america advertises the greencard lottery? not only that but the photo montage that accompanies the ad on tv has a big breasted baywatch style blond rising up out of a swimming pool while the voiceover says "you can live YOUR american dream, by visiting Visa55.com". haha

uncle ho loves you

well last night was a 'down night' meaning we drank while sitting down, until 3 am. we didn't venture out yesterday until about 1 pm, immediately the time at which the rain started. by the time we were a couple blocks deep and beyond turning back, we were forced to run for the shelter of a pavillion in a nearbye park. we were not alone. for the better part of an hour we got to know our circumstantial brethren-40 odd and tightly packed. after a bit we were compelled by hunger to try the foods peddled by a little old lady with a basket. we got a lot of thumbs and belly-rub-mimings that led us to try an unknown something wrapped in banana leaf. it was a nurnberger sausage. good. then we were emboldened to try another banana wrap package- stringy beef sausage with hot chilis in lightly slimy intenstinal tube. ok. had to eat it just to make everyone happy.
the night before was all around an awesome night. early in the day we met this really out guy named ' dj samurai' who wrapped every scant word he said in basket of ridiculous laughter. i was sure he was on mushrooms until we discovered he was just japanese. anyways, he owns and awesome t shirt shop, and told us to meet there to go out partying. we went to some posh rooftop bar with 'the' x-pat crowd. we were with linz's friend Minh and she turned out to know them all to a mind numbing level of familiarity. it was a birthday party and there were a few cool arty types and kind-like souls but mostly running the gamut from Marina-esque young professionals to utter dbags. but samurai handled it all with levity and absolute goofy grace and we followed suit. then to 'LUSH' the premier dance club downtown (its one of two) until close at one a.m., then to heart of darkness-its debauched older brother. your typical cancun catharsis that. we hooked up with a great group though consisting of linz, me, mihn, samurai, spainard bartender fabio, three nice dutch girls, a vietnamese girl with an inventive punk cut and a mischevious eye, and 'the boss' this totally batshit vietnamese lady with a bob who took it upon herself to lead the motley from place to place with despotic precision like "hey you guys shut the F*** up and get in the cab" and deft herding technique. we ended up and the HCMC version of the End Up, a slab-floored, unlit pool-hall of lady-boys and crunk tunes.
i'm off to the war museum with this Celtic guy who is sharpening his socratic method on my stone. ordered an iced coffee and baguette using only local language and sat for an hour reading the paper on a plastic lawn chair in an alley next to a one-legged chain smoking old man with a not unkind but withering stare. i got a couple of smiles out of him but tough work.
we're going to the central highlands in a day or two then hoi an, then meeting minh and going to Laos. wanted to go to the north but there is heavy flooding and mudslides and they are airlifting tourists. so it goes.
love you all, wish you were here

two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl

escape from sihanoukville

things have shifted character quite a bit since the last post three or so days ago. we extended our beach time another two days and only arrived here in Saigon yesterday. our last night in snookyville we went out to a hilltop french restaurant for some great seafood and afterwards on our motorbike drivers' advise we opted to go to a cambodian bar with them rather than the meager strip of 'laid-back' tourist bars off the beach.
this entailed sitting in plastic lawn chairs around a big table with about a dozen khmer dudes, drinking small glasses of iced black and tan and singing karoake (in khmer) and force-swallowing unchewably tough beef jerky as they watched and laughed. apparently of all the teeming hordes of whitey, we were the first to join any of these guys at the cambodian bars, of which there was a strip of about forty indestinguishable establishments all in a row. as such, they were very enthusiastic and hospitible and we basically gave a standing cheers every two or three minutes, laughed a lot, complimented this awesome old man on his chopsticks, glasses and tabletop drumming along to the hot cambodian pop hits (about 3 songs over and over.) these are heart wrenching love songs usually sung by a guy standing in the rain amid vintage 90's editing and what look like scenes from a low budget soap opera. they also show these music videos on all the buses, for hours and hours. anyways they resisted our paying for anything until everyone ran out of money and we bought the last pitcher to applause, and then someone bought us a song which was in english and linz and i sang it duet to continued applause. pretty funny that it was all dudes passing the mic around and singing these shmaltzy love songs.
we finished off the night back at Cloud 9 guest house with the new bartender Sop who is not only super competent but has the best facial expression vocabulary i have maybe ever seen. even the most simple question receives a barrage of grimacing/squinting/pained smiling. we drank the working dudes rice wine on the house before we finally had to close the book on our beach dream and pack.
the last two days at sihanoukville, after the raging electrical tstorm, were hot and clear and relatively calm. spent most of it horizontal on the beach, and swimming, boogie boarding, playing pool, watching a group of knick-knack hawking local kids (about 1o years old) use our borrowed boogie boards and generally eat shit up and down the beach and laughing their faces off.
i lost two out of three games of tic-tac-toe to a 9 year old and had to buy a cheap bracelet off of him.
last night we went to a restaurant here in HCMC (ho chi mihn city, not Hennepin County Medical Center) that linz remembered fondly from her time here (the memory of its location being somewhat more hazy :) ) , it has apparently endeared itself to quite a few other people in the meantime b/c it was slammin'-but the service was great as was the food. people eat really fast here, barely pausing to breathe.
i'm reading this awesome book, its called "and the ass saw the angel" by nick cave (the singer) and it is some Black Bible Aussie shit and i want to make the movie of it.
backpackers pour off busses with the uniformity and regularity of army troops, but the hawkers here a bit less persistent.
linz and i watched the movie 'Poseiden' last night in our room, because it sucked a small amt less than "the Guardian". still, probably the hardest choice between the worst movies i've ever had to make.

playing hookie in snooky

day three in a beachside bungalow in sihanoukville, premier beach destination of cambodia. the rain is just starting to burn away for the first time since our arrival here. first night we got pissed and wandered up and down the beach making friends and finagling free beers here and there. linz repeated her show stopping attempts to liberate the young local working girls through the power of dance and made a good run of it. we are both in danger of our speech succumbing to the charms of british/aussie inflection-not many americans about. yesterday we made like the bed-bound grandparents in willy wonka and left the bungalow only for breakfast, hot tea and dinner. probably we will make our way today to the vietnamese consulate for visas and check out the livelier, inland part of the town. apparently on their first trip here, debbie was aghast at the hippie ex-pat culture here being so in the face of the khmer lifestyle. i am sorry to report that although things are generally more subdued and family friendly, this legacy lives on.
i beat a khmer dude in an arm-wrestling match for free beer (thank you Sly Stallone in over the top) and linz ingratiated herself to a red-in-the-face and fly-harrowed bar owner for an in depth conversation about investment opportunities and life-stories over a spate of free libationals.
my bowels are becoming african, and between them and the bars most of my time is spent on stools one way or another. i know how to say 'whats up', 'you're crazy' and can count to 10 in khmer. very relaxed and i think i could stay here forever if i was writing a novel or something. recovering from a brief and mild cold. never mind my town-bound ambitions, the rain just came back, and hard.
lovin you
dan

If Dan can do it, I can do it better

Well, I'm not going to go into detail, because I assume all the words Dan is writing on the screen next to me will give you an idea of what's going on. I'll leave you with a few words of travel wisdom - drink wine when all you've been drinking is beer, wear dresses to boost your confidence, a Uni is not a sexual term or slang for a unicycle it means university, never look at an english person crosswise when they say in't it and most of all hide the lonely planet from those who think its lame, then amaze them with your knowledge and bearings of an area. Miss you all....love Linz

Phnominal Phenmanship

lame title. i know.
this is our second full day here in the capital of Cambodia. Today we are going to do a greatest hits tour- the national museum, the killing fields, and the S21 museum. pretty grim stuff.
we are staying in a part of town called lakeside and our guest house is indeed along the shore of a lake- a lake nearly concealed beneath a trash strewn blanket of voracious lily-pads. very laid back and safe and cozy and meals are good.
the first day here was a blur for me, as i was out till 5"30 the night before in Siem Reap at the 'X-Bar" (sounds a lot seedier than it is) with this 65 year-old-ish disheveled doctor doing aid work and also skipping nearly every consonant in the language, and an ozzy who works at an art center for indo's and throws outback raves. also the quintessencial cheerful/morbid british bartender. anyways the bus left siem reap at 8 the next morning and if not for linz slapping me around and pouring water on my head, and propping me up at the bus stop, i would have been sunk. as it was i barely kept my head above the hangover waters long enough to make it to a double-sized pompazon at the guest house and pass out watching spiderman 3.
yesterday i finished the book i've been reading since the Rainbow Gathering called "Shantaram" .
it is a killer book about this escaped australian convict who makes it to Bombay in the early 80's and tries to make a new life for himself. it cuts close and despite all the gangster/crime intrigue is very literary and an honest if slightly self-aggrandizing meditation on love, home, fate etc. anyways if anyone is interested, you should read it now because they are making a movie of it to be released in 2009. AND who do they get to play the ugly aussie tough guy? fucking johnny depp! so start now, its about 1000 pages but fast.
tuk tuk sir!
(national greeting)
ciao
dan
i leave you with this quote of linz's: "white people love to get their bearings"

see em and reap

been a nice few days of temple cavorting and mild, responsible nights of love. the last two days have marked the beginning of rains, with a couple hours of downpour each day. which, as we tool around in a tuk-tuk to the various ruins, has been great- clearing away the teeming hordes and letting linz and I scramble and splash along the slippery stones through the melting sky, try to prize from them some secrets, ghosts, memories. both temples that we've done in this way have provided some very surreal moments, the rain halting and tiny rivers running through the cracks in thousand year vaults and towers. very potent, holy auras the temples have. at night we've just sort messed around- linz ignited the towns main dancefloor the other night, we went out with a cobbled together group of kids from our guest house last night for happy pizza which outing quickly dissolved into innocuous mayhem/dishevelment. fed stinking decomposing fishes to crocodiles at this kul restaurant ''dead fish tower''.
deciding today whether we should leave for this smaller town battambang tomorrow- and if we should go by boat or by bus. from there probably Phnom Pehn (capitol of cambodia), then Sihanoukville for our Vietnam visas, then Ho Chi Mihn.

love you all and miss you
dan

The Wild West of Southeast Asia

We MADE IT! On our voyage out of the hands of the bangkok foot reflexologists into the Wild West of the Cambodia/Thai border and on to Siem Reap Cambodia. It began as a farely pleasant, yet sweaty journey on the local train. Stopping in ricey rural towns, commenting on the polyphonic spree t-shirt a fellow rider wore, the time passed quickly, we didn't even need to finish the sour cream and onion lays that were meant to hold us over for 5 hours. We arrived in the border town of Aranya prathet, all seemed well, we were scurried to a consulate where the first corruption seaped into our pockets....why are there babies playing in the consulate? Ok, so we were overcharged for our visas, we got over it quickly until we made the decision of two tired 20 somethings to keep going....we ran into a scammer of scams who tried to convince us of a deal on a taxi to Siem Reap. No Russians arrived and no deal took place so we high tailed it to a guesthouse, locked ourselves up and Dan watched law and order while I stood watch by the window where the dusty dealings of this Wild West town went down.

We woke up the next morning with a rumbling in our tummies from not eating since yesterdays breakfast and the trepidation of stepping into scammers paradise once more. This time we took the hard line approach, trust no one and look for white people. Well, this didn't really work, we ended up paying a lot for a taxi w/ some type of phone number/license on the windshield, but we MADE IT to Siem Reap home of the Angkor temples. We will fill you in shortly on dusty travels of Indiana Jones, Dan is lying in a hammock reading a book and listening to free jazz.

eh, i rescind. its not bad, but its not what it could be. kind of lame in total. over it, excited to move on. har har.

edit: sorry this was so cryptic, really i was squeezing the last few minutes out of my internet cafe hour. the initial impression of the backpacker beat in bangkok sort of washed away and the view of what was left was not in any way really impressive. sort of busted nightlife, people encouraged to gravitate to a low denometer- but where we were-banglamphu/kho sahn road was fairly comfortable, massages were good and and no funny business, food was tasty. lots of the same cool t shirts, shops with bootlegged cd's and dvd's, ridiculous bric-a-brac, good used books, ubiquitous generic scarves and ethnic looking paraphenelia. plus, almost all the bars close at one. sort of a mix of the conceits of Haight-Ashbury and the secret soul of Niagra Falls.

love your symptoms wayfaring whitey

arrived in bangkok and the 'backpacker capitol' of Banglamphu. its like cleveland compared to hong kong where whitey was quite scarce on the street level. its candy land in many ways, and everything is hell of cool. the hostels all have these big open air patios with chill house music and candles and stone statuary, koi ponds, bamboo pillars. like a thousand zeitgeists and all whitey whitey, dready dread, a 22oz beer costs about $1.25 and some nice rooms at about $10. opt-out, drop-out paradise. proves that any misanthrope american living in his parents basement, stoning out with a chip on his shoulder really has nothing to complain about. everythingyouwantsville. but that is only a 12 hour diagnosis. not nearly as seedy-seeming as i had imagined, nor as 'heady'- several family vacations visible, and lots of single european/american/aussie girls. staying here for today at least before we head to cambodia. Alors, we are looking for a room with a view. a room of ones own, a couple dozen feet above the stampedia.

also, i'm looking for some feedback here, wondering if anybody has actually bothered to read this. half narcissism/half curiousity. forgive.
thinking maybe of opening our "plans" up a little choose-your-own-adventure style:

should dan and linz:
a) spend a few more days in bangkok before heading out to cambodia/vietnam/laos/greater thailand in order to gather some non-lonely planet derived ideas of where and what to do there. also dance frenetically and chill in plush lounges drinking cold light beer.
b) bus down to the islands and partake of the moon parties, seek inspiration and swim in tropical waters.
c)leave tomorrow on a train to sihanoukville
(and again)...and do all of the above when we come back? oh, we might actually go to angkor watt first as it is on the way.

vote up america!

hong kong heights

took an awesome extended car cruise with second degree friend. amazing time and amazing hospitality. saw a completely different side of the city than the vastly overcrowded and overstimulating side of things where we are staying, which is pretty much something like hyper-oakland. hit some deserted daytime hotspots-beaches, buddhist temple pavilion, bunker/bomb-shelter on a cliff, amazing night views from the peak, great french toast at a 24 hour diner, and an amazing plush apartment. the hang lasted until about 4am. we're now packing up at the hostel and on our way to the airport for bang kok. couldn't get to sleep last night till the morning came around.

king of kong/ same same but different

i smell like a horse blanket. the pictures are forthcoming, have taken some good ones but too lazy to do that right now. just got back from this sparsely populated, expatish island-Lamma island. it was cool- laid back and dominated by the hong kong powerplant. enormous spiders overhead in trees. we ate our first street food last night and are still standing so that is a good sign. hong kongers are decisively anti-vegetable but really make a point of using all of the animal, hence crispy fish skins, pig knuckle, pork ligament and a whole host of gristly undeterminables. the anomoly is how everyone is not morbidly obese what with the greasy.

the popular street treat is octopus tenticle skewers and bacon wrapped in bacon.


blazing hot and humid, spent a couple air-conditioned hours last night watching Dark Night, f*cking killing movie and with Hong Kong scenes. I felt like part of the action. lots of funny t-shirts and an undeniable suspicion that not everyone knows what their english t-shirt really means, something like the reciprical of late 90's whitey with his chinese character tatoos. we are staying in this notoriously hectic sector; once we hit the street we bob along head and shoulders above a massive crowd, and supposedly things only get crowded on the weekends. glad to be getting out tomorrow on that count. bangkok tomorrow. possible rendevouz with a BC grad and mutual friend-o-friend on the south side of hong kong island this evening.
i love and miss all my family and friends. i can't believe its only three days we're gone. lindsey just got out of the shower so i'm out.
if i knew how to say 'bye' or 'cheers' in cantonese i would do that here.
ciao

DISAPPEARING TIPS

Plan before you go

Do research from different internet cafes or libraries

Tell no-one your plans

Use pay-as-you-go phones

Apply for no memberships

Cash is king

If you believe you are compromised, you are


^from the BBC, ha

bridger-teton national rainbow forest/3-5 wild wild mustangs from the BLM's adopt-a-horse program