I'm back!

So this always seems to happen to me. I wake up on what seems to be a normal day in Ho Chi Minh City, AKA Saigon, Vietnam, but then somehow I end up holding a bunch of bees at a small honey farm in the Mekong Delta. I've come to expect as much.

Right. Anyway. Since I last blogged, a lot of stuff has happened, most of it pretty weird. I was strung out when I arrived Vietnam, having traveled for about 40 straight hours. It was about 11:30AM. My theory was that if I powered through until after dinner I would be fine. It worked, sort of. It is now two days later and I do feel fine, but I was definitely out of it there for a while.

When I got to Vietnam, I linked up with my stepdad, Ezra:

We have been having a good time together, enjoying the randomness of the place, and accepting the fact that we have little understanding or control over much that happens here.

What can I tell you about Ho Chi Minh? First of all, it is completely insane. There are literally 2.5 million people on motorbikes at all times. Where are they going? You got me. Trust is the name of the game, as navigating across pedestrian walkways demands that you walk directly in front of oncoming cars and mopeds. The advice that tour guides give is that you should walk slowly and steadily, as erratic movements provide a greater chance that you will be hit. Laughable.

Second, the food is great. The traditional Vietnamese foods are fantastic and inexpensive; there is also great French food, due to the long history of French colonialism here. Service at the restaurants we have gone to has been fine, although a little smothering at times.

Other than eating, we've spent our time here walking around the downtown area, through markets, the War Remnants Museum, the Ho Chi Minh History Museum, and the Botanical Gardens. Mostly we've simply been watching the world go by, as it is so completely unlike anything that we are used to in the West. International travel is like being an infant, as everything is brand new and different. This is true here more than anywhere I have been. At times this can be great, at others, completely overwhelming.

Today we took an organized tourism trip down into the Mekong Delta. Typically I shy away from standardized tourism packages, but this turned out pretty well. We had the opportunity to ride the Mekong River, learn a bit about the history of the area, sample many of the fruits that are grown on farms in the mangroves of that area, and visit a honey farm. Although our route was clearly designed to accommodate tourist traffic, we could get a pretty good understanding of what life in the area is like. Here are a couple of pictures, one from the main channel of the Mekong River, the other from a small rowboat that we rode along a small waterway off the main river.

Overall, Ho Chi Minh City has been fine, although I'm glad we're heading to the beach resort in Danang tomorrow. It will be nice to sit on the beach for a couple of days. Kentucky represent!

The pain.

In retrospect, flying from Cusco, Peru to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam was not the greatest idea I have ever had. I've been flying since 7AM and I'm about to board a 14 hour flight. So that's cool.

Parting thoughts on South America

Tomorrow I embark upon the epic airflight journey from Peru to Vietnam. Five planes over about 32 hours should be enough to make me go a little crazy.

The last six days in Peru have been great, as we had the opportunity to visit Machu Picchu, hike mountains, tour around the Sacred Valley on scooters, walk around Cusco, and learn about the Inca civilization as we explored many ruin sites. We also have eaten extremely well, the high point being dinner at a small restaurant called Cicciolina, a stellar recommendation from one of Mike´s friends, where I had filet of alpaca.

One of the strangest aspects of Cusco is the nightlife. There is so much competition between bars in the main tourist square, the Plaza de Armas, that upon leaving any establishment between 11PM and 3AM headhunters employed by each bar physically coerce patrons into their respective bars. With so many bars, though, it is literally akin to a rugby scrum, as different agents push, pull, grab, corner, and inevitably force free drink coupons into the hands of the innocent tourists. Okay, okay, maybe the tourists are not completely innocent. But this strange system did make us question exactly how these bars make money. A free drink for anyone who enters the bar and drinks that cost only 3 US dollars after free drinks are doled out does not seem like a rock-solid business plan to me.

On an unrelated and more theoretical note, my time in South America has given me some thoughts onprivilegee. I have thought about it a lot, especially whenever Mike and I have left the main tourist centers and have had a less tainted perspective of what life here is really like. A quick example:

Fortunately for me and Mike the backpacker train that runs from Aguas Calientes, the town at the base of the mountain on which Machu Picchu sits, was completely booked. Thus, SAS Travel, our relatively shady travel group that put together our trip to see the ruins site, put us on the VistaTrain, the first class train with transparent ceiling panels. This also meant that we would ride mostly with passengers who had been staying at the super lux Machu Picchu sanctuary lodge. This hotel is directly adjacent to the entrance to the ruins, gives uncompromised and unparalleled access to the site, and costs around 500 dollars a night.

The train from Aguas Calientes takes about four hours and navigates between 18,000 foot snowcapped mountains and eventually through agricultural plains between other smaller, but still stunning, mountains.

I dozed off for a few minutes, exhausted from all the hiking I had done during the trip. I was awakened, however, by the sound of music played through the loudspeaker of the train. To the delight and amusement of most on the train, there was what I can only guess was typical Peruvian music, while a man dressed in traditional Incan garb performed a dance in the aisle of the train car. Weird. No, wait a second. This is really weird.

What followed, however, was completely astonishing and surreal. Just as we left the stunning vistas of the trip and entered a stretch of impoverished and struggling farm communities, the attendants that had previously served beverage service performed an alpaca fur fashion show. A fashion show on a train. Really. The picture above does not capture this event very well, but you get the point.

I was struck by thejuxtapositionn. Inside the train, wealthy tourists do not notice what is outside the train as they are treated to a "typical" dance and are sold expensive furs. The tourist experience in Peru literally has fluffy, alpaca fur edges. I could not help but internally ask myself just how many months of wages those outside the train would have to commit to purchase the "typical" garments sold within.

This anecdote imperfectly captures my point. Simply put, I have been overwhelmed by the poverty in the South American countries I have visited. Most people here work 18 hours a day. I have no idea what they make, but a 4 course meal I ate here today cost three dollars and fifty cents. Under no circumstance would my counterpart from Peru, a young adult raised in a middle to upper middle class family, have the opportunity to visit the United States. Additionally, although it is fantastic for a traveler on a budget, there is something unsettling about the fact that I paid twenty-five dollars last night for one of the best restaurant meals I have had in years.

All of this has reinforced my belief that I benefit from extreme privilege, in the opportunities I have relative to others in the United States as well as the basic fact that I am from the United States. Even those with little in our culture have so much more than those I have seen here. We are truly lucky. That is enough disjointed ranting for a while.

Pics from Machu Picchu

I have not completely gathered my thoughts on Machu Picchu. It is simply one of the most amazing places I have ever seen. What strikes me most, though, is that there is no conclusive understanding of the Inca civilization, generally, and Machu Picchu, specifically. Mike purchased a book that describes the history of the Incas as well as the ruins that we visited a couple of days ago and Machu Picchu. The information in that book was directly contradictory with the information our tour guide gave us as we walked around the ruins. This makes sense, of course, because there is no direct link in written or oral history with that time or those people. Additionally, and most amazing for me, is that the more I learn about this sacred site, the more questions I have about it. I am at a complete loss regarding why such an undertaking was necessary. That is all for now. Here are some pictures:

Hiking mountains in Peru

Ladders! Yeah, I said it. Huge freaking, handmade ladders in the Peruvian jungle. Extreme adventures continue. One day it´s scooters, the next it´s climbing one hundred foot tall ladders in the middle of a three hour and a half hike that ultimately ascended 2500 meters.

Aguas Calientes, the town nearest Machu Picchu, is much like Disneyland. There is not much to do there except walk around, eat, and check out the hot springs the town is named after. It is actually pretty annoying, because the Peruvian culture seems saturated with the desire to cater to the tourist consumer market.

Mike and I heard that there was a healthy hike to be had if we wanted to challenge ourselves, so away we went, to attack Putukusi. Now, we were advised that most people turn around when they see the first ladder, which also happens to be the largest of the five you must climb to reach the top of the mountain. There is, honestly, a good chance that one of us would have backed out. We sealed our fate, though, because we hired Carlos, a guide, to take us up; once we did that it was difficult to legitimize backing out of the mission.

I´ll spare you the details of how truly sketchy a couple of the ladders and parts of the hike were, just be assured that they were. Hi, Mo.

During the hike, I became completely saturated with sweat and dirt. Additionally, there are some major bugs out there. The hike was not as physically challenging as the hike in the snow last week, even though it was at a higher altitude. Although we did have to stop for rest a few times, I never felt like I could not breath. The combination of sweat, dirt, exhaustion and pests made me second-guess our decision a couple of times.

Once again, our troubles paid off. The views during the hike and especially once we reached the summit were well worth it. We could see all of the mountains around Machu Picchu, as well as all of the actual ruin site. Additionally, I now feel an extreme sense of accomplishment. This feeling is accompanied by physical exhaustion even today, as well as hatred for any stairs or climbing we encounter.

The next day, from Machu Picchu, I took this picture of the mountain we climbed:

Malargüe

I understand that this disrupts the representation of a linear progression of events, but this picture from the Malargüe airport is priceless, and thus deserves the deviation. Malargüe is the airport that services Las Leñas, the ski resort we went to for a week. There is not much in this town except for an airport. From here, we took a 1.5 hour bus to Las Leñas. This should give you an idea of how far out in the middle of nowhere we were. Mike took this picture right before we left to go back to Buenos Aires for a night before leaving Argentina for good.

Scooters!

Yeah, I said it. Scooters. Think about it. You are in a foreign country and you understand little of what people are telling you. People drive like crazed lunatics over cobble stoned streets. There appear to be no laws. There are few visible signs on the street. Good place to rent a scooter, huh? Exactly.

Now, only my family knows that when I was younger (Not sure how much younger, although I do know it was well before I turned 16) I rented and wrecked a scooter in Cancun, Mexico. That event deserves a blog entry, but there is no time for that now. Just know that I still have a scar from where my shin hit a wall. Regardless of this history, I decided that it was about time for me to try the scooter riding in foreign countries one more time.

When Mike and I were in Los Perros, we learned that we could rent scooters for 20 nuevo soles, or about 6 US dollars, per hour. So we went with Juan up the street to a locked door that had 4 scooters behind it. He had us sign our second dubiously enforceable waiver of the trip:


What follows was a trip that was crazy to say the least. We traveled 32 kilometers on what anyone would say were QUESTIONABLE bikes. My speedometer was fixed at 45 kilometers per hour, even when stopped; Mike´s fuel gauge was worked sporadicly and randomly. We went all the way to Pisaq, the next town north of Cusco. Along the way we drove over a mountain pass, through 1 small community and 3 really small communities, past farms, by sheep and cattle herders (I saw two people use a strange method of herding cattle: throwing rocks at them), and finally, by an alpaca farm.


We also saw the ruins at Saqsaywaman (the largest Incan ruin near Cusco), Qenqo (an ancient amphitheatre), Puca Pucara (another fortress that shines red at sunset), and Tambomachay (an ancient resting and bathing place that still has running fountains).



What struck me was that we passed through some extremely rural areas, even though we were near a top tourist spot for the country. Away from tour guides, and on our own, we were able to observe people as they live their lives. We saw people herding cattle, farming, and selling goods in a small local market. They noticed us as we buzzed through, but did not have to acknowledge us unless they wished to sell us something.


Trekking on the hazardous road over the mountain pass was worth it, though, because we saw why they call it the "Sacred Valley."

Food in Peru

Ordering mistake. That is really the only phrase that can describe the amazing amount of meat that Mike and I ordered last night. We got into Cusco at about 4PM. We both felt real weird because we had not slept much the night before (What? You doubted that the gang would go out on their last night together?) and because Cusco is at an elevation of eleven thousand feet. So we took a little nap before dinner.

Now, like Argentina, Peru does not mess around when it comes to meat. Mike and I decided to go to a typical barbecue place. I guess we deserved to get this much food because we failed to ask if it was enough for eight:



What you see before you is ONE item on the menu. We each ate a T-bone steak and a chicken breast, and I did my best to finish a pork chop. I also tried the cow heart (I tried cow kidney in Buenos Aires and decided that, having had the experience, I did not have to try it again). After we were done, there was still a T-bone, a pork chop, five pieces of sausage, the cow kidney, and the cow heart save the small bite I took. Meat hang-over. Oh, dinner cost about thirty dollars.

Today, Mike and I found a small restaurant/bar called Los Perros ("The Dogs" for you non-Spanish speakers) and have had great food: fried potato skins with sour cream and tomato chutney dipping sauces, tomato oregano soup, pumpkin curry soup, and a grilled chicken breast with a peanut sesame sauce served over mashed potatoes and with an onion and lemongrass salad.

The best single snowboarding run ever.

So the reason my blogging has been sporadic at best is that it snowed 65 inches in 30 hours. This created two small hindrances. First, you cannot blog if you are snowboarding through feet of powder. Second, the storm knocked out the internet access at my hotel. Anyway, I thought I would fill you all in on the best snowboarding run I have ever had.

The day started with a decision to ride into the "out of bounds" area. Mike, Chandler, and I had all signed a standardized liability form, written in Spanish, and dare I say with questionable enforceability, on the very first run we made at the beginning of the week. Might I add, also, that this decision to go "off piste" is not to be taken lightly:

Nonetheless, we had ridden "off piste" a couple of times during the week, and now that the storm had subsided and the sun was shining, we were ready to go for it. In fact, I had never seen such an extreme combination of unbelievably deep, brand new snow and pure, clear sunshine. These were truly optimal snowboarding conditions.

We hired a guide yesterday for two reasons: He would know where to go and he would give us the opportunity to jump the long liftlines. We knew that yesterday was the first chance since the storm to access the most extreme limits, at the top of the Marte lift, that had been closed all week due to the storm and wind, and we wanted to make sure we could take full advantage of that access. Turned out, we got Marcos, the director of the ski and snowboard school, who not only knew everyone on the entire mountain, but also every great spot to take us. I felt fortunate that Marcos was willing to endure the fact that I was a snowboarder tagging along for the ride with him and my friends who were all on skis. I also felt fortunate that Marcos trusted and believed in us enough to take us on the adventure that follows.

Because we wanted to ride the Marte lift and go "off piste," Marcos and Tim, our other guide, demanded that we all wear helmets and radio beacons. Now, Mo should know that I wear a helmet whenever I ride my snowboard, mostly because I like to ride in the trees and I learned the hard way that tree branches are not your friends. This was additionally intimidating for us all, however, because Chandler and Ben King routinely forego this protection, and none of us had ever worn radio beacons. Each of us quietly wondered if we had bitten off more than we could chew. I mean, what are the radio beacons for?

So away we went; up 3 lifts and we stood at the edge of the world. Marcos quickly and incomprehensibly negotiated in Spanish with a sentinel guarding a roped-off area towards the right of the lift, and Mike, Chandler, Marcos, and I were off into the "off piste." Marcos said that we would have to hike a ways, which I was fine with.

The hike turned out to be twenty minutes of trudging through powder up to my knees at eleven thousand feet. Without poles, I did not have the ability to ride my snowboard during this hike, and the other three left me far enough behind that I lost sight of them. I had nothing to follow but their tracks. A couple of times I had to sit and rest, because the air was so thin and I was not used to this kind of hike, but I eventually rejoined the group.

The hike was worth it. The fee we paid Marcos was nothing and the exhausting hike was no hardship in comparison to the reward for our efforts. Marcos had led us far, far from where anyone had been, save three or four who had hiked up from the very bottom. What followed was a forty minute ride down beautiful, sunny slopes that were covered with three feet of powder.

I realized again why I love to snowboard. When the snow is deep and you are cruising down a steep slope you cannot think of anything but the activity below your feet. It is truly sublime. There is connection with the mountain and with the community of others who seek out this sport that is both physically demanding and, for lack of another word, fun.

Marcos had taken us down "Sombrero," a long and secluded run accessible only if you hike or know the right guy. When we got to the bottom, we took this picture of where we had been; unfortunately, it does not adequately capture the event:

Unfortunately, we are coming to the end of our time in Argentina. It has been a great group, and I will be sorry to continue on without Ben, Ben, and Chandler. On Sunday, everyone leaves from Buenos Aires: The Bens and Chandler travel back to the states, while Mike and I head to Peru. I´ll keep you posted.

The Cast of Characters

Here are the boys I have been traveling with in Argentina:

From left to right: Chandler, Ben, Ben, and Mike.


Chandler is my roommate from this year at Emory. He's been charming many people in South America, as a good southern boy should.

Ben King, AKA Cousin Balls, AKA The Bear, has partied and slept more than any of us.

Mike has adjudicated many issues, and for the most part, has been pleased.

Ben Padnos, the internet entrepreneur, has conducted much business via strange internet phone calls from Las Lenas.

Powder day.

It snowed about 6 inches during the day today, and visibility was at zero. I spent my time out there today leaning back, turning wholly by feel. Great day. It is still dumping out there.

Las Leñas

Yesterday was a down day, as Ben, Ben, Mike, Chandler, and I traveled from Buenos Aires to Las Lenas. The day of travel it took to get here was welcomed, as we had burned ourselves our partying hard the last two nights in Buenos Aires. We were lucky that the Bens had a friend named Julian who was local to the city, a contact they had from an earlier trip to ski in Argentina, who showed us around and knew where the best party was. People down here stay up late. Really late. I have sunrise pictures from yesterday morning to prove it. In fact, many pictures are on the way, as I will soon have them loaded onto Ben Padnos´s computer.

Last night, after we got in to our beautiful and brand new resort on the mountain, the 5 of us ate with the elderly and families with small children in the hotel restaurant. It was early for dinner: 8PM. The food was strange (tuna salad maki and a california roll with ham substituted for the foux crab were a couple of the appetizers receiveded with my ¨sushi¨), but a welcome alternative to the steady flow of beef we had pursued since our arrival. After dinner everyone retired to their respective rooms to get to bed early in preparation for the snow. I tuned and waxed my snowboard.

Parting thoughts on Buenos Aires: The city is thriving. Designed like a European metropolis but inhabited by a clearly South American mentality. People are working hard but there are outdoor cafes everywhere to sit and watch the city go by. Drivers are crazy, sliding past each other at high speeds where no lane exists, but somehow the cars are intact and undented, which indicates that the system works well. The city is dirty; even our posh hotel by the water lacked clear air outside. Everything is cheap. We ate at one of the finest steakhouses in the city, and my lomo,equivalentelent of filet mignon, was 18 pesos. That´s $6.25. Finally, people may work hard, but they also party hard. The clubs stay open all night, and the locals go to afterhour parties that start at 7AM. I would come back to this city.

After 11 hours of sleep, it is 8:30 and I´m ready to hit the breakfast and then the slopes. It´s the middle of August, and I get to snowboard for a week. It snowed all last night. I feel pretty lucky.

Here are some pictures:

Don´t sleep.

Literally. Club 69 in Buenos Aires is raw, uncut. Hardcore party kids crowded into a warehouse dance hard to tech house while a professional crew of dancers entertain onstage. The VIP brims full, overlooking the masses below. I didn´t understand a word anyone said, partly because my spanish is poor, but mainly because the sound system was so loud. It is 5:21 in the morning; South America keeps it pretty real.

Buenos Aires = mierda.

Hola!

So everything in Buenos Aires has been going great. Except for the fact that the ride from the airport, supposedly arranged by Sergio, the caficho who set up the entire ski trip, was a no show. No biggie. Minimal negotiations later, and we have procured a taxi ride to the wrong Sofitel in downtown Buenos Aires. No biggie. A 3 dollar cab ride later and we are at the correct Sofitel. Everything has been great since then, we have been looking around, being solicited, etc., except for the fact that Chan and I have been refused entry at two clubs near the hotel. I haven´t been refused entry at a club in 5 years. Add it up. Boo.

The actual itinerary...and some thoughts on Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires, Argentina August 10-13
Las Lenas, Argentina August 13-20
Cusco, Peru August 21-27
Bored and cramped August 28
Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam August 29-Sept 1
Danang, Vietnam Sept 1-5
Hanoi, Vietnam Sept 5-9
Hong Kong Sept 9-12
Beijing, China Sept 12-15
Xián, China Sept 15-18
Shanghaia, China Sept 19-22
Bangkok, Thailand Sept 22-24
Koh Samui, Thailand Sept 24-?
The rest of Thailand is not completely planned, purposefully, but I leave for ATL on Oct. 9.

__________________________________________________________________

SO -

Buenos Aires. What can I tell you. It's a little surreal considering the amount of sleep I got on the overnight flight and the fact that it is WINTER here. Actually, the weather is pleasant: 60 degrees and sunny. My best description of this city is that it is hustling. Traffic, exhaust, general pollution, and solicitation are all overwhelming. Lane indications on major roads are advisory, and staying within them would betray inexperience. Kind of scary at times. Within the downtown and tourist areas, not to mention the major roadways where windows are all down, the city is downright smoggy. Everyone has something for you to buy anywhere near the touristy areas; since my arrival I have been offered over a dozen leather coats. Every experience has been edgy and exciting.

There is a general laid-back attitude to the people here, and the cost of general necessities is extremely low, which creates a great quality of life. The hotel that Chandler and I have a room at is extremely luxurious, and not too expensive. So far, Chan and I have trekked about 6 miles walking through the major government and tourist centers of the city. We were commissioned by Chandler´s father to find him a new leather coat, so we spent most of the afternoon satisfying our charge. Now we are back at the hotel about to take a dip in the pool and have a little of the Malbec we picked up along the way. Our plan is to find a steakhouse and wait for the others to show up. More posts to come. Judge and Cousin Balls arrive at midnight.

The "before" shot

Hey everyone. So I'm about to jump on this plane to Buenos Aires. Redeye. I'm pretty excited and anxious, although I also feel small pangs of regret that I didn't spring for a slightly more expensive flight that is not overnight. I've got everything packed and ready, and I'm about to meet Jay Hux here in ATL for a little pre-flight celebration, so I thought I would post this shot of me before leaving. I actually took this picture in my brother's car on the way to the beach about a month ago, so it's not a true "before" shot, but it's close enough. Also, since I'll only be gone for 2 months, it could also work as the "after" shot, since I don't anticipate any major facial tattoos or piercings. You never know, though.

Get your blog on.

So this is where I will log in and post some stuff about my upcoming trip to Argentina, Peru, Vietnam, China, and Thailand. Check in to check it out.