Food is a powerful motivator...wine is even better!
China? Koreé? Japon?
If another person says Konichiwa to me again, I may have to scream. Everywhere we go, people think its hilarious/tey are so clever that they think they know where we are from. Even the police at the checkpoint last night said Chinatown? Koree? before laughing uproariously.
They think they can hustle us when we have our backpacks on, not realizing yes we will walk further carrying our packs rather than get *cheated* of a couple of dollars. On some level its ridiculous perhaps, maybe we should just accept it and move on, but on principle we would rather not be charged 500 percent. You feel besieged, always suspicious and hating that you cant take people at face value.
Yesterday was a case in point. We arrived at Chefchouen train station, and got into a cab. Told the cabbie our destination and started trying to get our bearings as he drove. He stops in a plaza nowhere near our hotel and tells us its not far. Katharine points out to him that we are nowhere near where we need to be and he asks why we dont believe him. Meanwhile, some other guy is opening my door, showing me his official guide card and offering to show us to our hotel. The driver opens the trunk and tells us to hurry up because its hot. Katharine stands her ground, we get back in the car and the whole time he berates us for not trusting him, saying that in this small town, no one steals or lies, and that our insistence to go by another route will only result in more walking. We will see him around town and be forced to concede that he was right.
LIES all LIES! The worst part was that I wanted to believe him but knew he was just angry that he had not handled the hand off to his friend the *official* guide well! I worry that the whole cynical attitude thing is making it harder for me to appreciate the people we encounter when we travel, but more often than not, the cynicism has been proved out :(
It has been an eventful week traipsing from Egypt through Morocco.
5 cities, 6 hotels, 2 overnight trains and countless bottles of mineral water as temperatures routinely exceed 40C/104F. I do like Morocco more than Egypt I think - probably because its easier to get around since most people speak French and because it seems a little less rigid and aggressive than Egypt. The scenery is beautiful and the old ,edinas do have a char, of their own once you get away from the endless curio shops. My favorite part of Marrakesh was actually the cooking class we took ( I have somehow procured a tagine that we clutch like a baby on buses - ask me to cook you a meal when I see you!) as well as wandering around the nouvelle ville where they had a couple of neat galleries showing contemporary moroccan art. There is a limit to artisanal stuff!
I must admit that I am quite looking forward to Spain and being able to wear shorts and have a glass of wine with dinner again!
We are headed to Fez tonight and will finally be staying put for a few days before Katharine leaves for the US and Alicia flies in for a little Morocco and some Spain! Travel is hard work!
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From the plains of the Serengeti to the streets of Cairo
Ok folks - from the dusty slopes of Kilimanjaro my dad and I headed for the...dusty grasslands of the Serengeti. If there's a constant theme to my travels so far, it's been the dust. Anyhow, I digress.
We were traveling in relative comfort after the rigors of the mountain. Just me and my dad, a land rover and our driver/guide Othman. We head to Lake Menyara where the lodge is situated above a beautiful salt lake full of flamingoes. After a day there, we head to the Serengeti where the real action begins. We see lions, leopards, cheetahs, water buffalo (4 of the so-called Big 5) and countless zebras, giraffes,elephants, warthogs (my favorite), hippos (close second), hyenas, gazelle (the hapless creatures that are just destined to be lion food). The whole deer-ish family is just food. Impalas even have an "M" written on their bums, marking them as MacDonald's for the lions!
At the Serengeti my Dad becomes aware of the TseTse fly. He becomes obsessed with the buzzing annoyances, convinced that we're all going to get sleeping sickness. My suggestion that he look it up on wikipedia did nothing to allay his fears, as he was more focused on killing flies inside the land rover than looking at the animals. We spend 45 min killing every bug in our hotel room, changed the color of our clothing (nothing black or blue), and investigated the repellent properties of 100% DEET products. It was both tiring and amusing at the same time. (and sweet that he was protecting me from the tiresome creatures).
We finally beat a hasty retreat to Ngorongoro Crater, which at 7800 ft had no TseTse flies or mosquitos. Where we saw a RHINO, or two, thus completing our Big 5 game sightings.
So on this trip I have attempted to disconnect entirely - no books, no ipod, no cellphone, and limited internet (so far only 2x in >2 weeks!). This may have been a mistake given that I'm a voracious reader, but at least I have my diary and can entertain myself reasonably well. My dad is an even more voracious reader, and has no reading material. He resorts to reading the Gideons Bible, in FRENCH mind you, aloud each night to me. All in the name of improving his french.
It has been quite amusing. I left my dad yesterday and just met up with Katharine in Addis Ababa on our way to Cairo. She just spend 7 days tracking gorillas and chimpanzees in Rwanda and Uganda without showers and had been consoling/cursing her fate thinking of me staying in lodges with hot water. We are now in Cairo, dealing with the rather uncomfortable staring of the many loitering single men on the streets, but the grandeur of the pyramids has more than made up for it.
I've written the post cards and I will send them as soon as I find a post office!
Take care all!
Shiyan
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Shiyan climbs Kilimanjaro*
Ok folks - quick download. Just got off the mountain after 6 nights/7
days of climbing/hiking. All systems were go right up until summit
night (acclimatization, no food issues etc).
Dinner before we start climbing (you start at midnight so you can see
the sunrise at the top), our guide pulls out his pulse oximeter and
takes everyone's reading.
Group median = 95 (normal is 94 - 98)
Shiyan's reading = 75
We're at 4700M = 15500 ft (Kibo Hut) and I'm having a little trouble
breathing but I figure its normal at this altitude. I try to nap
before we leave and then we start climbing. Imagine a moonlit night on
a giant massif of scree. Loose pebbly business where every step
forward actually results in you sliding backwards. It's supposed to
take 5-6 hours to the first summit, Gilman's Point (5685M), then
another 1.5 hours to the true summit Uhuru (5895M)
Basically, my breathing worsens, my heart rate is double my normal,
and my father is ordering me off the mountain at hour 2. I ignore him,
and break off from the group with one of the assistant guides, Arsen.
We shuffle along, and I count 20 steps in my head before allowing
myself to stop. After hour 4, I can't really remember anything apart
from the worst headache since I had my big rugby concussion, and
overwhelming nausea. Between hours 4-6, all I was focused on was
walking towards Arsen as he urged me forward. We're not far he kept
lying to me!
We eventually pass my dad and the rest of the group. The last stretch
isn't scree but giant boulders you have to climb over (They may not
have been giant but that's what I recall). I stumble from one boulder
to another as I try to avoid throwing up. I finally get to Gilman's
Point, throw myself at the rickety wooden sign while Arsen takes a
picture as proof. Then I tell him there's no way I'm getting to Uhuru
and we've got to go down. The guides consider Gilman's A summit, but I
guess the asterisk is always there. In any case, Acute Mountain
Sickness (AMS) sucks, but I got my damn photo=).
Beautiful hiking though I must say. If anyone wants a postcard from
Tanzania, Egypt, Morocco or Spain, email me your address (in the
subject line please so I don't have to open the email on slow internet
connections)!
Miss you all.
Cheers,
Shiyan
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Identity as the hurdle to reasonable debate?
Paul Graham: http://www.paulgraham.com/identity.html
The paragraphs that struck me (emphasis mine):
" More generally, you can have a fruitful discussion about a topic only if it doesn't engage the identities of any of the participants. What makes politics and religion such minefields is that they engage so many people's identities. But you could in principle have a useful conversation about them with some people. And there are other topics that might seem harmless, like the relative merits of Ford and Chevy pickup trucks, that you couldn't safely talk about with others.
The most intriguing thing about this theory, if it's right, is that it explains not merely which kinds of discussions to avoid, but how to have better ideas. If people can't think clearly about anything that has become part of their identity, then all other things being equal, the best plan is to let as few things into your identity as possible. [2]
Most people reading this will already be fairly tolerant. But there is a step beyond thinking of yourself as x but tolerating y: not even to consider yourself an x. The more labels you have for yourself, the dumber they make you."
The most intriguing thing about this theory, if it's right, is that it explains not merely which kinds of discussions to avoid, but how to have better ideas. If people can't think clearly about anything that has become part of their identity, then all other things being equal, the best plan is to let as few things into your identity as possible. [2]
Most people reading this will already be fairly tolerant. But there is a step beyond thinking of yourself as x but tolerating y: not even to consider yourself an x. The more labels you have for yourself, the dumber they make you."
I often have discomfort with labels, but am not totally reconciled to ideas being generated in an identity-less vacuum. Perhaps we then need to define what we mean when we use the word "identity". Ouch. My head hurts.
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