Fiji coups and kava

I think the quality of life for Fijians is about average for a developing country. Their standard of living is about the same as Indonesians based on their incomes. Not as high as Thais, but much higher than Vietnamese. About 70% percent of the Fijian population relies on subsistence farming. Quality of life, based on the human development index, places it in the middle rank of countries. Average life expectancy is 72, a few years behind the developed world.

The country certainly has its problems, which I think it's doing its best to resolve. One of the biggest issues it faces is racial tensions between the indigenous-Fijians and the Indo-Fijians. When the country gained its independence from the British in 1970, the Indo-Fijians wanted equal rights and privileges, while the indigenous Fijians were concerned about protecting their customary lands and communal life.

We got a sense for this communal life when we visited a primarily Indo-Fijian market today. A lady saw us eyeing the kava powder for sale, and asked us if we wanted to visit an indigenous Fijian market. We said yes and were led around and up some stairs to a craft store. Once inside, we were treated to an indigenous-Fijian welcoming ceremony, still widely practised to welcome visitors and guests throughout Fiji. We sat barefoot on a mat across from two gentlemen. One of them made some kava by straining water through a cloth containing grey powder, and strained it into a communal bowl. The powder was made from ground kava root. We clapped once, I drank the kava from a carved coconut shell, and then clapped three times. Then we shook hands as friends. Catheleen did the same. The kava didn't taste like much, just somewhat bitter; I imagine if I drank clay it might taste like this. It also gave me a strange light-headed feeling and a tingling sensation in my throat.

This community life also includes many community obligations. Lynn who runs the bed and breakfast told me about karekare, which requires anyone to comply with any reasonable request from an indigenous Fijian, like the loan of shovel for example. She said you must comply with these requests or face social disapproval from this group. Extended families are very important, and requests to support extended family members cannot be ignored. It's not uncommon for indigenous-Fijian relatives in town to house cousins, nephews or nieces from rural areas so the children have better access to schools.

Back to my story. In 1970, the British brokered a compromise where each group could elect 22 members to parliament, with the remaining 8 seats up for grabs. This gave the indigenous-Fijians a slight advantage based on their population. What has transpired since over the last 45 years, with four coups and four constitutions, can best be described as a microcosm of racial tension and healing. At the moment the country seems more united as one multi-cultural nation.

The first two coups in 1987 were staged by military leaders on behalf of other indigenous Fijians, who felt threatened by the first coalition party of Indo-Fijians and other parties. This prime minister, who was overthrown in the coup, was elected partly based on a fast growing Indo-Fijian population, along with growing support for coalitions between the two racial groups. The new constitution stacked the deck in favour of the indigenous-Fijians however, and led to an exodus of Indo-Fijians and economic stagnation. The Indo-Fijian population dropped from slight majority to slight minority.

The country re-grouped, punished the perpetrators somewhat, and amended the constitution in 1997 back to the 1970-style constitution. But in 2000 there was another coup shortly after the first Indo-Fijian prime minister was elected. This time it was orchestrated by a local civilian businessman under the pretext of supporting indigenous-Fijians. He was also upset with the cancellation of some of his contracts, after a new government was elected. This was the only bloody coup with 15 dead, and the military leaders were implicated in the coup but nothing was proved. Within a couple years the coup leader was serving life and the 1997 constitution was restored.

Next in 2006, Fiji's military leader staged a coup to topple the government, under the pretext of government corruption, but mostly to prevent amnesty for the remaining participants in the 2000 coup. The leader promised a new race neutral constitution and free elections within two years. It was 2013 before the new constitution was issued and 2014 before new elections were held.

The new constitution is definitely an improvement over the previous three, since the Indo and indigenous Fijians no longer vote for a separate group of parliament members. Now each vote counts the same. In fact, the only differentiation between these groups is indigenous Fijians are entitled to the lease-hold rents from customary land. Over two thirds of Fiji land is customary land, which can't be sold and can only be leased. Some of it has been leased for development based on 99 year leases.

I think the jury is out on whether these two groups can get along for the common good. The elections held last year were free and fair, and a coalition party representing all Fijians won out over a party representing indigenous Fijians' interests. But they'll need to stop the coups for one thing, and trust each other more. The current cooperation will be tested again if the Indo-Fijians become the majority group by population. If they can stay united over the next generation, come what may, I think they will have set a good example to the world for tolerance.

I wish them well. It's a beautiful country and it would be a shame to see the country's future squandered over racial tension.

Here's Tony, who welcomed us into his store with a kava drinking ceremony.

Hot water beach and German immigrant culture shock

We spent a few days in the town of Thames, a bit east of Auckland around a bay called The Firth of Thames. We explored the town and the area, and on Sunday we drove north up the peninsula's west coast to the town of Coromandel, a quaint small town having a motorcycle convention the day we arrived for a visit. There were mostly older people walking around in black leather pants (what's with that?), and looking at each other's chopper or hog motorcycle. There was also a community band in the street playing hits from the sixties and seventies, so we stopped off at a cafe to enjoy a flat white while listening to the band. The kids have been drinking ginger beer lately, which is much like ginger-ale but with a much stronger ginger flavour. So I bought them another brand of ginger beer called 'Frank's Damn Good Ginger Beer', which they enjoyed, as much for the name as the flavour.

We then drove across to Hot Water Beach on the east side of the peninsula, where we watched the kids dig a hole in the sand to contain their own little hot tub. The beach is special because there is lava a couple of miles below the surface, left over from a volcanic eruption millions of years ago. The lava is still hot, and heats up the water above, creating a steamy section of sand on one part of the beach. It was curious to see everyone building their hot tubs out of sand, including Elizabeth and John, all next to each other. It reminded me of a bird colony on a rocky cliff, with each bird family claiming their small section of land for their nest. It was fun, but you had to be careful not to burn yourself since some of the sand could get up to 65 degrees Celsius.

In Thames we stayed at the bed and breakfast of Mathias and Elena, immigrants from Germany, who arrived here five years ago with their five children. Besides the warmer weather, they moved to New Zealand so their kids could go to school in a more lassez-faire environment, where they could learn and make mistakes at their own pace, and where the whole family could explore their own interests with fewer social constraints. In Germany Mathias was a doctor in a small town, and they felt constrained by social pressures to act as a doctor's family is expected to behave. But here in New Zealand they find they are less defined by their jobs, and this has given them more encouragement to try other things. For instance they just opened up a bike shop, not something doctors typically do in Germany.

But their story is also a cautionary tale for would-be immigrants. While their kids are thriving in this new culture, the parents are contending with some of the typical issues many immigrants face, such as re-starting careers at a more junior level, isolation from friends and family back home, and adjusting to a new culture and way of thinking that has its negatives as well as positives.

Mathias has been practicing medicine in New Zealand for a few years now, and said that he sees more mental health issues here than in Germany, more drug and alcohol abuse, and more family violence. He has a theory that New Zealand is more of a 'happy culture' than Germany, meaning people act more positive here than in Germany and expect others to do the same. Consequently people here are less likely to discuss or listen to others' problems. This aggravates depression issues for those who feel they have few outlets to seek help. I don't know how accurate this is, but he told an interesting scenario to expand on his point. Suppose someone dreamed of a paradise with better weather, where he thought all his problems would then fade away. But then suppose that once he emigrated to this paradise he was still not happy, but he no longer had the dream that moving to paradise would solve his problems. He might end up more unhappy than if he hadn't emigrated in the first place. I couldn't help but wonder if he was speaking about himself in some small way. I certainly learned more about their life in Germany from these chats than anything. They do plan to move back to Germany once the kids have grown up.

We are a few short days from Saturday when we fly out of Auckland for Fiji. With five weeks in New Zealand, we will have spent more time here than anywhere else. We've enjoyed our time in New Zealand. There are obvious differences in climate, flora and fauna, which we've had fun exploring, especially around the South Island with its spectacular mountainous scenery and endless rolling pastures. 

But what strikes me most about this country is its similarities to Canada, more so than its differences. The way New Zealanders think and act, their whole culture and outlook, seem almost identical to Canadians in most respects. If Canadians and Kiwis spoke English with the same accent, I think I would be hard pressed to see much difference. Visiting New Zealand is both interesting and commonplace. It's always interesting to visit a new place, and there are always new things to explore and discover. But it is also commonplace, since the people remind me so much of Canadians. It's a bit strange, but also comforting, to be on the other side of the world and still feel like you are still in your home country to some degree.

Here are the kids at Hot Water beach.

Random things about New Zealand

I have to admit we haven't done too much since we arrived in Nelson New Zealand, on the northern end of the south island. We're staying in a really nice place on top of a ridge with a great view of the ocean. I find when we are at a particularly nice place, I feel like staying close to home base and just relaxing. So without many recent activities to describe, here's a list of random things I've learned about New Zealand since we arrived on the South Island.

1. What a beautiful place. Everywhere you go the views and vistas are amazing.

2. Driving on the left is tricky. I keep walking to the car to get into the driver's seat on the wrong side, and I still think the turn signal should be where the windshield wiper controls are. Then there are the ever present round-abouts - ugh. I attempted parallel parking once with some success, but I kept shoulder checking over the rght shoulder. It's confusing.

3. There really are more sheep than people here. Something like six sheep per person. You can't go very far without seeing sheep. We even saw sheep on someone's lawn in the suburbs. There are almost as many cows here too.

4. New Zealand is expensive. It's about 20% more expensive than Canada I figure, but that has a lot to do with the current exchange rate. But regardless, the cost of living for New Zealanders is high here, since income levels are a somewhat lower than in Canada. I can see the lower Kiwi purchasing power with fewer people in the restaurants and shops and the more modest cars and houses.

5. New Zealanders are a happy and friendly bunch. Various surveys show Kiwis self-assess as more content than most other countries. Everyone we've met has been very friendly. They are also very easy going in the driving department, even when I'm blocking traffic trying to find my way around.

6. New Zealanders are a crazy bunch, or at least they are in Queenstown. Between the bungee jumping, the speedboat racing on rivers through narrow cliffs and paragliding, they're just ... crazy.

7. Don't wait for the cheque. After a restaurant meal, remember to go up to the cash register to pay. We waited for the cheque for a while before we figured this one out. I like it.

8. Don't leave a tip. This one threw me at first too, but tipping is mostly for something exceptional, not regular service at a restaurant.

9. Black flies are a year round thing on the beach and lakes. They called them sandflies. Just when I thought the country was near perfect, I learned and experienced they have those small annoying black flies that we get in Ontario in May for a few weeks before they die off. They bite here too.

10. Where is everybody? If you like a relaxing place without too many crowds, this is a nice place to be. We often drove for some time in the country on "highways" before seeing another car or soul.

11. The best things are free - mostly. This place has great and free national parks, which I think are the best reason to come to this country. They are well marked with excellent trails and signage. There are good city parks for the kids too, and public washrooms are everywhere. Many people take their campers around, and there are campsites all over for them too. A few more water fountains scattered around would be nice though.

Going barefoot and kiwi encounters

We stayed for two nights on the west coast near the town of Franz Josef. It rained much of the time. Not surprising since the westerly winds off the Tasman sea dump eight meters of rain a year onto this part of the world. No one in this country seems to own a dryer by the way. Of all places, this rainy location could use some dryers. I don't think there are too many "good days for the drying" here, as some Irish travellers we met in Vietnam would say. Instead Kiwis for the most part seem to hang their clothes to dry on the line. We learned this time and again when we only found a washer at our accommodation. Maybe it seems strange to say, but I can't say I have hung many clothes on a line before our trip to New Zealand. It's not rocket science, but I learned on windy days that everything needs a peg or two to stay above the dirt below.

A unique custom we've noticed in New Zealand lately is people walking around barefoot. We've only seen it a few times since it's still springtime on the cooler South Island, but I understand going barefoot is more common on the north island in the summertime when it can get quite hot and humid. You won't find any North American signs here stating "No shirt, no shoes, no service". On the contrary, outside of factories and certain businesses, it's perfectly acceptable to go just about anywhere in bare feet. Children regularly go to school in bare feet, or kick off their shoes immediately after getting to school. In fact, we've seen signs in businesses asking people to remove their dirty shoes. I remember purposely going barefoot for a couple weeks in Thailand years ago when we stayed on the beach - it was a very nice feeling I recall.

We were here in the rain to visit the glaciers, so off we went. On our way we took a short jaunt from our car to see the Fox glacier from a distance, a river of ice on a steep downward slope. The next day we took the time and effort to hike through the rain a fair distance to come within a few hundred meters of the Franz Josef glacier. It took about 40 minutes to walk there, and we passed though the u-shaped valley carved out by the glacier as it retreated. For the first five or ten minutes we passed through some young forests, which have been growing ever since the glacier melted on this spot over 160 years ago. I was surprised to see nature fill in an area so quickly, which was recently just exposed rock. We next walked along a valley that had nothing in it but boulders and rocks, with cliffs on both sides. Mother Nature has not yet had time to fill in this area, which was massive, and made me think of a desolate place like the moon. We eventually crossed up and over a boulder-strewn ridge to see the blue-tinged glacier itself, covered in rocks and boulders and letting forth a river of melt water from its base. We could see boulders nearby in precarious positions, balanced on top of smaller rocks or wedged in a crack in the cliff, with a waterfall pouring down on top of it. This is one strange place, but a great location to see the power a glacier can wreck on the landscape.

On Sunday we also visited The Westcoast Wildlife Centre to see the kiwis. Kiwis are flightless, nocturnal birds, only found in New Zealand. There are five different species of kiwi, all of which are endangered due to introduced predators and habitat loss. We needed to wait for our eyes to adjust to the low light levels, but we were then able to view a Rowi, the rarest of the kiwi birds. It was quite active in its naturalised enclosure, racing back and forth looking for bugs and grubs in the undergrowth. What a strange looking bird with its long beak that looked like a straw with nostrils on the end, with big legs like a turkey on a small body. It was an endearing and odd looking creature. Too bad the birds are on the decline. They are easy prey for stoats in particular - weasels introduced to New Zealand in the late 1800's to help lower rabbit populations (another invasive species). It turned out though that the stoats found kiwis easier prey than rabbits.

Yesterday we drove north up the coast to Nelson at the northern end of the south island. We'll stay here for the next few days before ferrying to the north island. It was a nice sunny day and we enjoyed a few stops along the way. We first visited Punakaiki to take a short walk along the coast to view the limestone formations and ocean surge. There was a great path and boardwalk here to see strange limestone formations which looked like stacked pancakes, since the spaces between the limestone layers had worn away. Also interesting was watching the ocean waves roll into small coves and blow mist and air through holes, creating strange blow hole effects.

Later on we stopped in at a fur seal colony near Cape Foulwind. Not an auspicious name. I thought it might have been named this because we are downwind from the seals, but Captain Cook named it when his ship The Bounty was blown off shore at this location. After a short walk we had a great viewing platform to look down on the furry seals. We saw some young pups playing while mother seal took it easy, sunning herself on this fine day. There were a dozen or so seals milling about or lying down, and a couple of males were fighting and howling at each other, perhaps competing for the right to mate. We all enjoyed the spectacle, while the waves crashed up over the rocks, leaving great sprays of mist in the air.

Here's Catheleen and me at a stop along the west coast on a rare sunny day.

Quirky movie theatres and ancient forests

We've seen a few movies in New Zealand, and while we enjoyed them, what was more interesting was the movie theatres themselves. Unlike Canada they all seem to be independently owned and operated, and they are each quite different. In Te Anau, we didn't realise that we should have booked our seats days in advance. No matter, we still managed to get almost the last seats. We ordered popcorn for the kids, which were provided in white ceramic bowls, and waited in the adjacent Black Dog Bar while others ordered glasses of wine or beer for the show. Once inside the theatre, we placed our bowls and drinks on little tables between the seats and enjoyed the first half of The Martian. Next came the required intermission to get another drink. Others preferred a slice of cheesecake. The last theatre we visited was the Paradiso in Wanaka. This place was less upscale but no less unique. The theatre was filled mostly with sofas, along with a few regular theatre style chairs and one '50's era convertible, with theatre seats in the back seat. The best part about this place was the freshly baked cookies timed to be out of the oven for intermission. Of course we couldn't resist a few. I think all movie theatres should be like this.

Yesterday I went for a late afternoon run around part of Lake Hawea while the kids did their homework and Catheleen started making dinner. It was a magical moment with the view of the lake and snow capped mountains in the distance. The sun was shining and a strong wind was blowing a couple of kite surfers along with the waves. The water was a deep azure blue, and as I ran along the gravel path I passed through grassy fields and forests filled with strange wind-swept trees I've never seen before. I finally reached white cliffs overhanging the lake below, and turned back for a reverse view, with the sun slowly setting towards the mountain tops, casting a silver glare on the lake. I had to stop a dozen times on my run to take pictures, but the photos didn't do justice to the moment.

We drove up from Hawea along the west coast and stopped near Franz Josef Glacier for the next two nights. The drive was very wet since it rained all day, as it mostly does in these parts. Our drive through the mountains was remarkable for the huge ferns and strange trees. This whole area in a national park, and so this remote landscape has remained largely untouched. Since New Zealand is so isolated from the rest of the world, the trees and foliage are thought to be ancient species from 80 million years ago when the island started separating away from Australia. It all seemed so foreign. We would see trees that looked somewhat like a palm tree but not quite, and huge black ferns. If you needed a location for a movie with foreign plants unknown to most, this would be a good place to go.

Once we made it through the mountains and the Hass pass, we drove along the coast, with the Tasman Sea on one side and the Southern Alps blocking the way on the other side. We didn't pass many towns along the way, this being one harsh and lonely place for most people to handle I imagine.

Here is one of the pictures I took on my run on Lake Hawea.

Yellow eyed penguins and steam punk

We've slowed down the last couple of days. I think it was because the weather turned for the worse. On Monday we had such a beautiful day with warm dry winds blowing in from the north. Yesterday the weather changed to blustery, cold and wet weather coming in from the south. Which is strange to me, like many other things. The days are getting longer, the sun tracks in the northern part of the sky from right to left, cold weather comes from the south, and I'm driving on the left. All opposite from what to expect in Canada.

Oamaru has an impressive Main Street with large imposing white limestone buildings on a broad avenue. Some of the buildings are very beautiful with Corinthian columns and ornate facades, all built in the late 1800's when this place was booming with profits from a gold rush and other businesses. Now the town is much smaller, and I found it strange to find so few people on the street, which was built at a time when the future seemed brighter. I am told that while other towns were pulling down some of these old but impressive buildings in the 60's and 70's, Oamaru was so bankrupt that they didn't have the money to do so. Good thing, because now days the buildings have great heritage value. Also, the 60's and 70's were not a great time for architecture, in my view, with its minimalist rectangle shaped buildings in vogue.

The town of Oamaru is now one sleepy place. We learned this soon enough after trying unsuccessfully to find a café that was open after 4:00 p.m. Just about every attraction runs between 10:00 a.m. and 4:00 p.m. I suppose we have only ourselves to blame for only seeing one attraction per day, since we're getting up so late.

Yesterday we visited a Steam Punk museum in Oamaru, which was a blast. I didn't know anything about this science fiction sub-genre until I saw it. It's supposed to combine steam powered machines, sometimes from the Victorian era, in a fantasy alternate future. We saw imaginations gone wild with locomotives turned into flying machines, a crazy oversized chopper motorcycle made out of farm machines and other parts, and other bizarre machines made from mixing parts. My favourite exhibit was a glass room where the hanging lights turned different colours as the music played, transporting us to another dimension. Every direction we looked was saw copies of ourselves out to infinity. Very freaky.

Today was John's 13th birthday so he decided what to do. We ended up at a park next to the shore where a white sandstone sculpture competition was going on. The kids enjoyed the play structures next to the sculptures, especially the zip-line and a large wooden hamster wheelchair which we could get spinning very fast when we walked and then ran in it. The trick was trying to stop it. Usually one of us would fall first and slide along while the others kept running. It was a hoot!

Later we had lunch in a café with nice views of the shore. It reminded me of Nova Scotia on this cool, cloudy day with a view of the sandy and rocky shore, with a variety of fishing boats moored in the harbour. Later in the afternoon we went to see the movie Everest in 3D. True to the Kiwi theme of this leg of our trip, some of the characters in the movie were from New Zealand. The movie was pretty good by the way.

In the evening we went for sushi at a local Japanese restaurant and then later went to see some yellow-eyed penguins waddle on shore at dusk looking to find their nests for the night. They are a bit shy so we were lucky to see them. I understand they are endangered so hopefully they are not disturbed and allowed to flourish.

Here's John about to blow out the candles.

Rural life in New Zealand

The New Zealand All Blacks beat the Australia Wallabies in the Rugby World Cup finals on Saturday. The only reason I know this is because we were in Australia for the semi-finals and New Zealand for the finals. The kids really wanted to watch the finals at a sports bar or somewhere with a crowd, but we ended up waking up early Sunday morning at 5 AM to watch the game in our hotel room. Being in New Zealand, we cheered for the Kiwis.

The rivalry between the Kiwis and Aussies was on full display during the lead up to the event. Listening to some Kiwis, they seem to see themselves as under-appreciated by their larger rivals the Aussies, who they consider brash. Which is funny since the two countries are such close partners in business and politics. Reminds me somewhat of the relationship between the U.S. and Canada.

We drove south from Christchurch to a rural hobby farm near Oamaru. We enjoyed the drive through the countryside, which was very beautiful. The country has been turned into grassland for the sheep and cattle, which were everywhere. It was very striking to see the rolling hills all covered in grass like an endless lawn. The grass was often watered by industrial sized sprinklers. The fields, or blocks as they call them here, were bordered by hedges of cypress trees, sometimes 30 feet tall and shaped like a square hedge you might see in the suburbs, just bigger. It was very pleasing to the eye to see all these rolling hills, all the while with the snow covered mountains in the distance, called the Southern Alps.

We're saying at a hobby farm near Oamaru, or as they call it a lifestyle block. Our hosts Andrew and Tracy are very nice, and we've enjoyed speaking with them. We've learned a lot about their farm. Their sheep are having lambs right now. A couple of lambs with black faces were born two days ago and one ewe is due to give birth anytime. They have chickens, and the kids have learned to feed them, pick them up, and check their roost for eggs. We cooked up some of the eggs this morning - they were tasty. Tracy was also kind enough to saddle up one of their horses and give Elizabeth and John a ride around the paddock.

The weather was really pleasant today with sunny skies and a high in the low twenties. It's springtime, and the trees and bushes are in bloom. We're not having any problems with flies and insects here either - no bush flies to be found in these parts, unlike Australia. Good thing we got out today to enjoy the weather, mostly around the farm. The next couple of days the weather will turn as the rain and cold come up from the south.

War memorial and the Blue Mountains

On our last day in Sydney we visited the ANZAC War Memorial in Hyde Park. I'm glad we did. The building itself was beautiful. Built in the 1930's and constructed in an Art Deco style, it commemorates the Australian and New Zealand (ANZAC) joint forces that fought in the First World War, starting with the 1915 Gallipoli quagmire. The exterior stone statues and bronze reliefs were superb depictions of the Great War, and the interior was dominated on the lower level by a sculpture. It showed a dead warrior carried on a shield by his mother, sister and wife. It is based on the legend of Spartan warriors from Ancient Greece who were raised to come home from war either with their shield or on it. Clearly the experience for many families during the First World War was one of sacrifice and loss. I found it very moving.

The memorial was re-dedicated in the 1980's to veterans of all wars, and inside we saw displays from the Boer War to Australia's latest involvement in Afghanistan. Of particular interest to me was information on Australia's involvement in the Vietnam war and the recent Iraq war. I wasn't aware that Australians fought in both these wars and I was intrigued to find out why Australia followed the U.S. into these conflicts (Canada did not fight in either). I did some investigation, and I understand Australians felt and perhaps still feel particularly vulnerable to aggression, given its geographic location far from other Western powers. For example, one of the memorial displays described Japanese bombings of Darwin Australia during the Second World War. Its foreign policy strategy appears to align very closely with the U.S. to help mitigate for this vulnerability.

Yesterday we rented a car and travelled to the Blue Mountains, a couple of hours west of Sydney in the interior. It was strange at first to drive on the left side of the road, but I think I got the hang of it. I still have trouble remembering that the change signal is on the right though. Driving around today we admired the landscape, with sheep and cattle grazing on gently rolling grassy fields, and individual trees scattered around. In the distance were the forested mountains, which did look blue. But I think all hills look blue from a distance, since the atmosphere tends to absorb or scatter red light over long distances, leaving only blue light. This is the same reason the sky is blue.

We stayed in Leura, a small but picturesque town in the mountains, at a bed and breakfast run by the owner Isabella. She was such a wonderful host, and we felt like guests in her home. She has a great kitchen which she offers to guests, so I made the most of it and cooked a roast beef dinner last night with all the fixings, and invited Isabella to join us. She did, and we heard many of her stories.

She immigrated to Australia from France 30 years ago after she married her Australian boyfriend, and has been living here ever since. She's since divorced and has one daughter, who now lives in Sydney. We enjoyed listening to her stories of visitors to her bed and breakfast over the last few years. She's a self-professed hugger, and told a story of one Japanese university student on school break who started to cry after she hugged him goodbye. He told her he grew up mainly in boarding schools and had never been hugged before. What a strange and sad story. One last story - her ex-husband lives in Vietnam now, as he always had a fascination and longing for that country. I asked why and she said that he couldn't serve in the Vietnam war since he had heart problems. In fact he was one of the first Australians to receive a heart transplant. However he felt a connection to Vietnam, since many of his friends served during the Vietnam war. Isabelle was very kind to us, offered us breakfast, and filled the kids up with ice cream and hot chocolate. I'm sorry we have to go so soon. It's nice to be in someone's home for a change.

Here's Catheleen watching out for kangaroos and wombats in the Blue Mountains.

Reflections on Southeast Asia - it's been a slice

We're taking it pretty easy for our last few days in Bali, before we head off to Sydney Australia on Saturday evening. We thought about going to the beach today at the end of the strip but we heard there were a lot of hawkers there. So we're spending another day at the resort by the pool, near the ocean. I really like this spot near the pool, next to the seawall. It has some beach sand in a contained strip, with some beach chairs and umbrellas setup here. It's like we're at the beach, without being on the beach. Very nice.

It seems to be low season here with few tourists. Sometimes we're the only patrons in the restaurant. Even so, there are many hawkers on the street as we walk to local restaurants and shops. As we stroll along, we are invariably asked every 50 or 100 feet whether we want to purchase sunglasses, whether we need transport, or if we want to go snorkeling. It looks to me like a great number of Balinese men around here are idle without much to do, at least at this time of year. Or maybe it's worth it for them to sit around most of the day, waiting for the odd tourist to show interest.

The meals we've had on the strip near the resort have been excellent - less so at the resort. On the strip we've had good breakfasts in particular with the best coffee I've had on this trip. We've also been to the Hungry Crocodile restaurant across the street a couple times, which has been consistently good. I particularly enjoyed the steak in a black pepper sauce.

So on our last full day in Southeast Asia before heading off to Australia and then New Zealand, with lunch over, it's a good time to reflect. I'm glad we came to Southeast Asia, having visited Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Singapore and Indonesia in succession over the last three months or so. I think we had a pretty good idea of what to expect, having visited Thailand a couple of times over the years. We expected and found new sights, sounds and cultural experiences, different and unique from experiences back home. We expected and found some adventures and hiccups along the way. We knew things wouldn't always be as comfortable as life back home. This is still the developing world after all (except for Singapore which is highly developed), striving to improve its standard of living and infrastructure. They are not there yet but they're working on it, especially in hard working Vietnam.

The weather cooperated for the most part, although it was a bit too hot for my liking throughout most of our time in Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. We sure did sweat it out, but it was always nice to come back to reasonably air conditioned accommodations at the end of the day. The first time we came to Thailand as backpackers in the '90's we didn't have much air conditioning; it was a relief to have it on this trip, especially with the kids in tow. We didn't experience the rainy season anywhere, which was a pleasant surprise. It really is dry here in Bali, with the brown hills, waiting for the delayed rainy season to turn the countryside lush and green.

I enjoyed learning about the history and significance of a new place or site, and I always liked observing what the locals were up to. We've talked to locals and fellow travellers along the way to hear some of their stories. Here in Bali we constantly witnessed the locals bringing offerings of flowers and incense to their small temples and spirit dwellings and making silent prayers. We've found the locals friendly and welcoming everywhere we've been. As we pass the Balinese we are greeted with smiles, with their hands held together at their face like they are praying; we try to return the greeting in the same manner.

The food has been excellent on our trip for the most part. The Indonesian food has not been as varied and interesting as the Vietnamese or Thai cuisines, but it's been good nonetheless. I think that is why there is more variety on the menus in Bali and Java, where we could usually have French, Italian, or American meals at just about every restaurant.

One of the main things I wanted to get out of our trip to Southeast Asia and the Pacific was a career break with some time spent with Catheleen and the kids. I was I little worried whether we would all get along for this long but I was hopeful. I think this has panned out just fine so far. John and Elizabeth certainly had to rely on each other for companionship, and I'm happy how well they've gotten along most of the time.

I have always thought of travelling as a good opportunity to gain a better appreciation for my home country, by learning how others live. Travel opens the mind. I hope we have learned a few things - I think we have. The people we came across were happy for the most part, although we've seen some poverty and hardship, especially in Laos and Vietnam. I hope the kids better appreciate how lucky we are to live in Canada, with everything it has to offer.

Overall I've enjoyed the time spent in Southeast Asia, but I must admit I'm ready for Australia and New Zealand with its spring weather, and with its food, language and infrastructure so similar to Canada. I haven't worn long pants since we left Canada though, so I'm wondering if they will fit; but that's what we call a personal problem. At least I won't have any more excuses for not running.

Here's Elizabeth and John with their endless horseplay at the pool. Best friends?

Meandering thoughts on outdoor living

Modern urban environments like Singapore have their charms, but I prefer a rural setting most of the time. When we take a holiday we usually try to strike a balance between time spent in the countryside and time spent in the big cities. There's usually a tug of war being city and rural time, since Catheleen and now John usually prefer what the cities have to offer.

When we're home and weather permits, I really like to spend time at the cottage, closer to nature than life in the city. Even when at home in the city, when the lawnmowers aren't mowing, it's nice to sit quietly in the backyard on the deck, with a view of the surrounding trees and garden, listening to the cardinals come and go while the squirrels scurry by across the canopy of trees.

I'm not a huge nature lover on its own. I do like to go for a nature walk or a hike on occasion, but I'm not a camper. I avoid the odd suggestion from Catheleen that we give it a go. I've never tried glamping (camping with beds and tablecloths) or flash packing (backpacking with nice hotels at the end of the day), but I see the appeal. One thing on my list is to build more decking and stairs from the cottage to the lake so I don't have to walk on the grass or rough paths so much. In other words, I like to be around nature, but not on nature.

So what does my meandering preference for decks and backyard gardens in Canada have to do with our visit to Bali and Java? Well in Bali, the building styles of upscale houses, museums, temples, and resorts usually combine gardens and nature with open air buildings. If you believe everything you read, the Balinese have cultivated an aesthetic appreciation that keeps society, architecture and nature in harmony, in line with their Hindu and animist influences. Westerners have been waxing on about Bali harmony and beauty since the 1930's, when some Western artists started coming here and mixing and matching styles with the local Balinese artists.

I certainly admire and appreciate the places and grounds we've visited in Bali and Java. We visited one striking place in Ubud Bali called the Agung Rai Museum of Art (ARMA) along with an adjacent resort. It was truly breathtaking in its beauty. Perhaps tourist dollars helped make the place possible, but the building architecture, gardens, and landscape of the museum and resort were stunning, both by day and when lit at night. The place combined outdoor pavilions, lily pad ponds, bridges over streams, rice paddies, and unique buildings blended into the landscape. There was a massive retaining wall over a rice paddy that was really beautiful - the wall included evenly spaced statues of ladies carrying pots, where water flowed out of each of the pots. We followed the meandering paths, leading to creative statues throughout in the surrounding gardens and bushes. I could go on.

But Bali doesn't have a monopoly on aesthetic beauty. I should think most places and cultures in this world try to combine architecture with natural settings and gardens in some way that is intended to be pleasing. Which styles and cultures you might like the best are a matter of taste and opinion; I think they all must have their appeal.

Being just a few degrees south of the equator, Bali benefits greatly from a climate that doesn't vary much throughout the year other than a wet season from January to March. So for most or all the year the Balinese can enjoy their outdoors and fine tune their harmony. Good for them. I think I'm just a little jealous because the winters in Canada are a bit too long, and so I don't get to spend as much time outdoors on a deck as I would like.

Here's John on a country road in Java today. We greeted most of the people we passed on the road and small villages on our long walk, who I don't think see many tourists in these parts.

Northern Bali and first day in Java

Yesterday we hired a driver to take us around northern Bali to see some of the sights and sounds. We visited a couple of temples of course. I thought one temple was particularly beautiful since it incorporated the natural landscape. It had massive statues carved out of the cliffs, along with whimsical rice terraces forming loops and waves around the palm trees, and waterfalls running down the surrounding forested cliffs. It was also nice to see that the temple was well used, with many people making offerings for sale in the community, or making special wedding decorations. It looked like a community effort.

The men in Bali often wear sarongs at the temples and elsewhere. So I purchased one, since the shorts I was wearing were not sufficiently modest for the temples. Catheleen bought one too, and I made sure to purchase one made for men. I don't know what the difference was between the two, but I was assured I had the right one.

Later on we stopped at a viewpoint overlooking a lake next to an active volcano. I don't know when the volcano last erupted, but it was some time long ago. We could see the black lava covering one side of the mountain from the last flow.

One of our last stops was at an agro tourist plantation where we saw cocoa plants, vanilla beans, coffee plants, and the process to make Luwak coffee. The Luwak animal looked like a weasel, and we saw cages of them where they eat the coffee fruit and poop out the coffee beans. Who would have come up with this in the first place? Some brave or foolhardy soul I'm sure. But it's supposed to be the best coffee, so we figured it was worth a try. We saw how they cleaned the beans, dried and removed the husks, and then the beans were roasted and ground. We enjoyed the view over the mountainside while sipping some of this coffee. It was good but it did have that ick factor for me when I thought about it. The kids aren't big coffee drinkers but did enjoy a taste sampler with cocoa, vanilla, and many other teas.

As we waited at the Bali airport for the short flight to Java, I stared out at the surf. The airport runway was built out into the sea on reclaimed land. We're flying on Lion Air. I can't help but recall that two years ago one of these planes didn't make it onto the runway and ended up in the sea. Nobody was killed and it was remembered particularly for the help provided by the locals, who rushed to the scene by boat from the surrounding area to help rescue the passengers. But our flight was without incident and we made it to our next stop near Borobudur Java, a Buddhist temple site we want to see.

Along the way from the airport though the city of Yogyakarta, we saw and heard people playing music on the street using drums and cymbals like Caribbean music with their steel drums. There was also a holiday parade going on. We didn't see the parade, but along the way we passed a couple of jeeps, one with people in combat fatigues carrying machine guns, and another jeep with what looked like a General in back and a large machine gun mounted to the front of the jeep. We were told by the driver that they were not military or militia, but were civilians dressed up for the parade. What a strange thing to see.

The hotel we're staying at is unlike anywhere else we've been. We're up in the mountains with views of the surrounding volcanoes and rice fields. We have our own villa, which looks to have been someone's cottage at one time, with its own private backyard, coy fish pond and even a coop with some fancy pigeons. Looking around the garden, we've spotted banana, orange, and jack fruit trees, and some other fruit we haven't identified. This place is rustic, with no air conditioning or screens on the windows. We have mosquito netting around our beds so we'll see how well we sleep tonight. It's a pleasant temperature up here in the mountains and should actually get cool at night.

On our way to lunch at the hotel restaurant, we passed cages of love birds and other birds. The owner is a French man, and with his wife from Indonesia they seem to love birds. When we had lunch at the hotel restaurant we witnessed and heard a group of about 20 motorcyclists roar past the hotel and then back again, making a lot a noise revving their engines. We asked the hotel owner whether there was a parade or festival going on today, but he wasn't sure. He said the local village would often organize these rallies for different days and times, but he couldn't keep track, since there were so many events.

As the sun started to go own, we heard the Muslim call to prayer, with chanting and singing from the nearby mosques. Being on top of the hill, we could hear the prayers coming loudly from three or four different directions. It was a new experience to be surrounded by it. It was as if the whole land was praying, which I suppose was the case. Elizabeth thought it was somewhat frightening, but I thought it was soothing, especially when the singer was talented. I'm not sure I will find it so relaxing though when I'm woken up tomorrow morning. It must be an effective way of remind all it's time to pray, since it's not something that would be easy to ignore. We are definitely in a strange and exotic land.

Here's a picture of our Luwak coffee experience.

The charms of Bali and your neighbourhood

Having visited other places in South East Asia, it is only natural I think to compare them to Bali. I can only imagine if we had come to Bali straight away from Canada, with no other experiences in Asia to draw upon, it would have charmed and amazed me as an exotic and beautiful place. I am still charmed, but it's a subtle spell.

Just for fun imagine you didn't have to concern yourself with working for a living. Where would you live? Perhaps some in Canada would choose a tropical paradise like Bali, but I don't think I would like to live anywhere else but Canada. The main reason is Canada is my home, plain and simple. It's where I feel most comfortable, in a culture and environment, both urban and natural, I understand and like to think I appreciate. Perhaps the winters are a bit long for my taste, and I wouldn't mind skipping the odd one, but I think I would feel out of place without the seasons.

I'm sure most of the Balinese would say much the same thing about this island. This is their home, their culture, their natural environment. Why would they live anywhere else? In Vietnam I had the sense from a few people I spoke with that they would consider moving elsewhere for a better life if they had the opportunity. I don't get that feeling here in Bali. The Balinese seem to be quite comfortable in their environment. It shows in many ways. For example, the way they interact with foreigners like me, calm and gentle, greeting me with big smiles. It's like they are happy. I think that's it. And I think foreigners who come here for the spa treatments, yoga, guitar lessons and what-not are drawn here to capture some of that happiness.

Here's the big life lesson you can glean from the Balinese if you're paying attention. Slow down and take it all in. As we would say, "stop and smell the roses". Or as one guy here put it, "stop and listen to the brook". That's the best advice I've received here since "try the curry" - it's tasty by the way.

We ran out of time to get the golden hour tour from a local art collector and curator named Rai Agung, who runs a great art museum here called ARMA. But I know where he's going with his tour where he shows people his favourite misty forest at dawn and points out the "beauty and poetry" of early morning village life. He's from here, he has cultivated an appreciation for the place over a lifetime, and he's happy to share his joy with others.

As I sit writing this, the sun is starting to set, and sunlight is peeking through the clouds to reflect golden across the water-soaked and newly-planted rice paddies. The swallows are having their last dance over the fields, catching their dinner, before it's the turn for the bats to put on their show. The breeze is cooling as the leaves move without a rustle. It is silent, save the sounds of nature's crickets, birds, and a rooster in the distance. Two smaller birds are picking at the insects in the field, occasionally turning to each other to sing a song or grouch at each other. The moon is almost full and on the rise, soon to ascend directly over us later this evening like last night. Catheleen is on the same path, about to go out with Elizabeth to the next village to watch the white cranes leave the rice paddies en masse to roost for the night in the nearby trees.

I'm sure the ARMA guy could point out the beauty and poetry of this setting better than me, but I get it. I should invite him to a golden hour tour from my deck at the cottage in Ontario in the summer, or a nature walk though Gatineau park in the fall.

Every place has its charms if you open your eyes.

Special education and a fire dance

John and I went exploring yesterday for a geocache, which we found in a school for the mentally disabled, sponsored by the Sjaki-Tari-Us foundation. John was very happy since he found something in the cache called a geocache coin, which is supposed to have a mission assigned to it like "bring me to every continent". John was thrilled because this one from Germany and did not have mission yet, so John can make one up.

I was interested to speak with one of the teachers from the school. She said the school was founded and sponsored by people from Holland. The Indonesian government does provide some schooling for the mentally disabled, but it's limited to kids ages 7 through 10. This school provides schooling for kids outside of these age ranges.

Last night we attended a performance called the Kecak Fire and Trance Dance, which was definitely worth seeing. The local community puts on these performances in a number of temples in the area. We were told at the end of the performance that the proceeds will be used to help build a temple. The area already seems to have an endless number of temples, but what do I know.

We bought our tickets, an attendant put a flower behind our ear on the way in, and were seated within a small Hindu temple courtyard on makeshift benches. The place was packed by the time the show started, with people seated on all four sides, wherever they could squeeze in. Some of the last people in sat on the only places available, the stone throne focal point of the temple. Even this sight of 300 people seated within a partially lit and ancient temple at night was strange and unique, all of us with flowers in our hair. Maybe my imagination was running wild, or perhaps I shouldn't have purchased the big beer on the way in, but it reminded me of something out of a cult movie, like the second Indiana Jones movie Temple of Doom. There was no doomsday here this night, but as I often repeat, you would never see this in Canada due to health and safety concerns.

The performance started after a man in a traditional sarong (which is the custom here) lights the candles on a statue in the middle of the courtyard. The candles burn brightly. Then an orchestra of 100 men, all bare chested and wearing checkered sarongs, enter and sit down around the statue. Throughout the performance they chant, sing, sway and raise their arms to the fire. This is the only music for the performance, since there were no instruments. Occasionally they would stand or lay down on each other. A most strange mix of sights and sounds, but mesmerising after a while.

The actors come and go throughout the performance, telling an adventure story from the Ramayana epic, as kings, evil demons, monkeys and others play their part in the capture and rescue of a princess from the forest. The lady actresses were well dressed in ornate costumes with golden dresses and headpieces, and performed slow dance movements with their arms and head most of the time. Again, very mesmerising.

Next came the most dramatic performance, the Fire and Trance dance. They first set up shallow metallic barriers around the courtyard, and then a pile of coconut shells were placed in the middle and lit on fire. Some of the orchestra men return on one side with some percussion instruments, and began to chant and bang their instruments. Next a shirtless man enters in bare feet, standing within a frame with a head and tail made of reeds. He was apparently in a trance from the chanting and he proceeded to walk and dance around the red hot coals. Then he kicked the coals toward our side of the courtyard, and a great mass of sparks flew up on high in this otherwise darkened courtyard. What a dramatic and startling experience to see the sparks fly! Some of the coals struck the barrier and made it through the cracks next to the audience's feet. He scattered the embers in other directions and then walked on the remains. The coals were swept into a pile by attendants and the horse man repeated the performance a couple more times. Once the burning coconuts were mostly extinguished, he lay down among the orchestra members with his blackened feet exposed, and seemed to receive a blessing.

The kids were concerned about his feet, and hoped they were okay. They were too shy to talk to him after the performance however and ask him. After the show we all streamed out of the temple, and enjoyed a late dinner down the street. What a unique way to spend an evening.

Here's John with his geocache coin.

Singapore - it's been fun but time to go

One reason I like to travel is to confirm that Canada is the best country in the world to live in. Kidding aside (sort of), when I travel I do try to keep an open mind to how others live, and then ask myself if they are on to something. For example, throughout the world I'm often impressed with the food on offer and wish we Canadians would pick up a few lessons from abroad. Maybe a few less hotdogs and fries and a few more fresh tasty meals instead - just a friendly suggestion.

After enjoying another great meal at a mall food court in Singapore, jammed packed with the locals, I have to chalk one up to the Singaporeans. Great food, variety, quality and prices - and even a beer stand to get a bottle. Would it be so wrong if we could get such treatment in Canada? Cleanliness? Have to give Singapore another point. Yes Canada is pretty neat and tidy when we're not dealing with 'snirt' - that's my name for the mix of snow and dirt that we drag into our malls and businesses all winter. But it doesn't gleam and sparkle like Singapore. Modern infrastructure? Chalk another one up for Singapore. They seemed to have skipped that 60's and '70's minimalist-rectangle look so prevalent in Ottawa. Too many public buildings in Canada look like something out of a Soviet-era housing project. Traffic? Wow, the traffic runs smooth and light, not like the traffic jams common during rush hour in many Canadian cities. Weather? Maybe too tropical for some, but there are no snowstorms or freezing rain here.

But scratch a little and you'll see the cracks in the veneer - some downside in all this upside. You get the gleaming streets but make sure you flush the toilet (it's a fine for you if you don't), and forget about chewing gum on the street because that's not allowed. These types of rules indicate to me at least unwelcome constraints on personal choice. Yes everyone should flush the toilet, but is a rule and fine necessary? Less traffic is great but forget about owning a car unless you're rich. You'll need to pay import taxes, a certificate of use, and tolls in the city that will at least triple the price, and is only good for ten years before you have to pay again. Good thing the public transit is good here.

As for crime and punishment, this is where things just start getting weird. There is mandatory capital punishment by judge (not jury) for some crimes that wouldn't get you anywhere near life in prison in the West, like drug trafficking. The rate of executions here has been higher per capita than just about anywhere else. Some crimes are just strange - opposition party leaders turned bankrupt after successful defamation suits by ruling government ministers. Pornography, homosexuality, nudity - all banned. Most Singaporeans live in public housing, but cats are banned from the buildings. I saw a sign in the building we're staying in that prohibited pet owners from letting their pets relieve themselves on the lawn or bushes. As far as I understand it, there isn't anywhere a dog is allowed to go in the city unless you bring some kind of mat.

It's like Singapore became a nanny state with a mean streak. Or a right leaning party had the run of the place for the last 50 years. Pleasant place, just stay on the straight and narrow. 

So would I live here? Probably not, but what a fun, impressive place to visit. And what great food!

Here's us at Universal Studios.

Reflections on Vietnam

We just left Vietnam today en route to Singapore. It's as good a time as any to reflect on our time spent in Vietnam. It seems visitors either love or hate their stay. I suppose it's easy enough to have a bad time or opinion. Just don't keep an open mind to other ways of living, or just focus on the lower standard of living. We were in the developing world after all without all the comforts and amenities of home.

There would be a lot to complain about if one were so inclined. It was hard to communicate with the local people most of the time. The traffic was tough. It was often hard to walk on the street let alone cross it. We spent weeks walking in single file most of the time like we were holding a rope up the mountain. There was the constant beeping from motorcycles, mopeds and cars passing by at close quarters. There was the lack of safe work practises in the street. Just yesterday Catheleen was crossing the street when a wire from above fell on her feet; I don't know if it was live but the workers above who dropped it should not have allowed people to travel below. There was no concept of queuing anywhere; people crowded around trying to be served first. There were the crazy taxi drivers who sped and passed while texting. There was smog in Hanoi, litter and garbage in the streets, and flooded roads everywhere after it rained. Prices were often arbitrary. We were regularly charged much more than locals for the same thing, and we fell victim to the occasional minor scam or cheat.

While not an issue for tourists in most cases, the country owes it to itself to have more respect for human rights and be open to political criticism and change. Albeit, this is easy for me to say from outside the country. But like any one party regime without a free press or tolerance for government criticism, it would be hard for the people here to initiate political change.  

But we didn't come here to focus on the negative and all the negatives have been minor annoyances in retrospect - for us at least. Rather, this country offers so much from natural beauty to culture and food, and offered us a tiny view of an intriguing and energetic people forging their own path in this world.

I never tired of seeing the rice fields covering the landscape, especially the terraced fields spread over the mountain sides around Sa Pa to the north. The limestone cliffs around Ha Long Bay were a marvel and deserved their title as one of the seven natural wonders of the world. The forested hills and mountains all throughout the country were beautiful, and the beaches along the coast near Hoi An were truly wonderful and a welcome retreat from city life.

The culture here has been jarring at times but also intriguing and endearing. From ladies wearing face masks to keep the sun at bay, to poor but persistent hill tribe people in their native dress in Sa Pa, and funeral processions consisting of flamboyantly dressed people in Hoi An. The floating fishing villages in Ha Long Bay were a strange sight yet made sense, given the imposing cliffs in all directions. We witnessed the energy and drive of the people of Hanoi with their over-bursting and narrow shops. I admired the way the locals stayed on the narrow streets throughout the day, eating, working and chatting together. We experienced the constant and endless flow of motorcycles carrying everything imaginable. We witnessed perplexing paper burning rituals in the streets, intended to help care and feed late ancestors. I was often transfixed, watching the spectacle unfold in a bustling, crowded mass of humanity that was both chaotic and a well organised machine.

The cuisine was fantastic.  The food was both simple and sophisticated. They say the Vietnamese will eat just about anything that moves. It don't know if that is true but they certainly have found many and varied ways to make use of the ingredients available to them. The seafood was abundant here and well priced, and I had my fill of clams, oysters, shrimp and fish. I think Catheleen got her fill too of salad rolls and spring rolls, John and Elizabeth filled up on Pho noodle soup, and I ate my share of Cau Lau noodles in Hoi An. I thought Thai food was my favourite Asian cuisine but I've had enough good Vietnamese dishes to make me question that.

The Vietnamese people were friendly and welcoming. Many locals who spoke English well would open up and tell us about themselves, their hopes and dreams. Many seemed genuinely interested in our life in Canada. Once they opened up, they weren't shy to tell me what they thought. While most people didn't speak English very well, they were ready with a smile when we smiled at them.

So the question I was asked by the hotel staff as we checked out of a Vietnamese hotel for the last time was when will we come back. I told them we would visit again soon but I'm torn. The country is new to the tourist industry and has much to learn. But it's a youthful and vigorous country which aspires to do well. There is much to come back for, but I honestly don't know if I would come back. But I'm certainly glad we came.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. If you're ever in Hanoi, have the egg coffee. Num.

Bai Choi and cooking Vietnamese-style

Last night as we walked around the old city after dinner we saw a game of Bai Choi being played in a square. It was a bit like bingo but with music, singing and dancing. Each contestant received cards with Chinese chess pieces on each card, and the dealer randomly drew bamboo sticks from a box which bore the name of one of the chess pieces. The dealer or his assistant would then sing a folk's song about the piece.  I learnt later that the songs conveyed values like love, friendship or patriotism but with some fun mixed in. When a contestant had a match they called out and received a yellow flag, and when someone was the first to receive enough flags they won a small prize. The people playing the game seemed to be having fun and it was quirky to see the performances.

There was another game down the street that anyone could play since it needed no Vietnamese language skills. Players would put on a mask so they couldn't see and would take a whack with a stick at a small hanging clay pot. Most missed but there was a satisfying cracking sound whenever someone managed to smack a pot. This was high excitement for the sleepy town of Hoi An.

Yesterday morning we took a cooking course. We started off by walking through the market and collecting our ingredients under the tutelage of our chef Dom.  I was intrigued when the chef picked out the live shrimp we needed for the spring roils, since the little guys tended to jump out of the basket once he picked a few for purchase. I guess they didn't want to be lunch, but that was their fate. We picked out some pork too and I asked the chef why all the raw meat was being sold in the open air - it was already getting quite hot. He said the animals are slaughtered early every morning for sale that morning and so no refrigeration was required. I believe this must be true and I think it is the way it's still done in many or perhaps most parts of the world. Dom had pointed out, as were surrounded by pork meat stalls, that there was no smell, which was true. It was still a bit weird to be surrounded by so many parts of pigs, which were alive earlier that morning. 

Elizabeth was able to hold a duckling, which I think would cost about a dollar each (we told her they will be raised as egg laying ducks rather than for the pot), and we watched a lady make fresh rice noodles. That's one thing about this place - just about everything is fresh, either by necessity or preference.

After picking out our ingredients we took a boat ride down the river. Along the way we saw many fishing baskets and large nets. The huge nets were attached to stakes driven into the riverbed, and simply lowered into the water at night with a light hanging above to attract the fish and other seafood. The nets are then raised in the early morning to reveal the catch. I was struck by how abundant the fishing must be here, where the fish simply just come to the fishermen en masse to be caught. 

We eventually transferred to a small rowing boat, where we all put on cone hats woven from reed or straw. This was the first time I had worn one of these hats that I see everywhere, especially by those toiling in the rice fields in the heat of the day. Although I felt goofy wearing one, it felt well suited for its purpose - keeping the sun off while providing for air circulation around most of my head. 

The cooking course itself was well organized and fun. Chef Dom provided good instructions in English and there were lots of staff to help us out when we forgot what to do or were at risk of burning something. We made four dishes  including spring rolls, beef salad and their famous noodle soup called Pho. The soup was interesting since we made the stock from  scratch with beef bones and vegetables. What gave the stock its distinctive flavours were the use of cinnamon bark and star of anise. The kids especially enjoyed the cooking experience. John actually added some vegetables to his dishes, which surprised me since he's usually picking out the vegetables.

Here's Elizabeth making rice milk used to make rice paper. She's rotating the big stone pot to grind the rice, which was soaked overnight. 

Cao Lau and funerals in Hoi An

Yesterday we flew south from Hanoi to Da Nang and took a taxi to Hoi An, which is a much smaller place than Hanoi or Da Nang. The town name translates to "peaceful meeting place". It's a UNESCO world heritage site for its well-preserved South-East Asian trading port dating from the 15th to the 19th century. Not too many of these old cities remain that haven't either been rebuilt as a more modern place or destroyed by one of the many wars. The reason for its preservation is a combination of factors, including the silting up of the local river, which made the city a sleepy place for a couple of centuries.

On the way to our hotel by taxi from Da Nang, I spotted locals harvesting rice from the paddy fields. The fields were golden coloured from the ripe crop and had been drained of water to make for an easier harvest by people and machines. The machines on the field were being used to cut the stalks, and the people were carrying large bundles of yellow stalks laden with rice on their shoulders to the road. On the streets on the outskirts of town I could see they were drying out the rice on large blue tarps, and I saw people throwing the rice up in the air from shallow wicker baskets to separate the hull chaff from the rice. I must only have seen parts of the local process to harvest the rice, since the stalks would have been threshed somehow to remove the rice hulls from the stalks, and processed again, usually by a machine, to loosen the white rice from the hull exterior. It was interesting to see some of this as a manual process. I imagine in other places it would be more of a mechanized process to harvest the rice.

We checked out the old town last night and the streets were peaceful with no motorized traffic. With lanterns overhead as the main source of light, it made for a nice vibe. As we crossed over the ancient covered bridge, we had a great view of the island on the other side with its multi-coloured lanterns reflecting over the water. The place has a quaint relaxed feel at night, much different from hectic Hanoi.

The old town is packed with good restaurants, and I tried one of the local dishes sold everywhere called Cao Lau, which is comprised of barbecue pork, pork crackling, bean sprouts, lettuce and herbs, a spoonful of stock, and a special yellow noodle only made here. They say the noodles need to be made from local fresh rice, local water drawn from a certain nearby well, and the lye solution used to prepare the noodles has to come from ashes of a certain local tree after it is burned. I'm a little sceptical that all these specifics are followed, but they do take their noodle-making seriously for this dish in some of the best local restaurants. It was very good and I'll try it again.

Early this morning I heard chanting and singing and so I went around the corner to check it out. I realized later I was witnessing a funeral. There were dozens of people around with a few buses and parade-type vehicles. There was a ceremony going on in a small building, with a priest or monk chanting in a microphone, while one of the members of the large entourage held a picture of the deceased. Some people were wearing white head bands which symbolized the ashes of the dead, and there were monks in orange robes, nuns in white or light blue robes, and men dressed in brightly coloured outfits with detailed embroidery. Some of the men had cone hats painted like a target when seen from above with black and white circles with a blue bull's eye on top. After the ceremony some men handed out white gladiolus flowers to the crowd, and a coffin was loaded into one of the trucks. The entourage then worked their way down the street with music blaring. At the head of the group were six men holding a large drum on two poles, one pole on each side, while someone beat it. It was quite the spectacle.

Later in the morning we visited some of the sites in the old city, including an ancient house which is still occupied by a family who said they were the seventh generation in the house. We also visited a place that was a bookstore and meeting place for some Vietnamese people in the late 19th and early 20th century. Here they started up some newspapers and collected and read books to help develop ideas that contributed to their aspirations for a country free of colonial rule. When I sat down in this place with its dark wood panelling and benches, and looked around at the books and newspapers in the cabinets, I could imagine the building full of people reading and discussing their ideas.

Here's the hearse from the funeral procession.

Last day in Ha Long Bay

Yesterday evening on the boat we had another excellent meal with a wide variety of seafood, including local oysters served in the half shell and warmed briefly with fried and dried onions and garlic on top. The prawns were interesting since they were served with shells, heads and tentacles intact. Catheleen is pretty good at removing the shells and everything else, but I find I'm not in the mood for shrimp once I've witnessed this carnage. When the tour guide asked us if we had any food restrictions, Elizabeth piped in that, while she is not allergic to seafood, she doesn't care for it. John only likes shrimp and tolerates fish, so after a few courses of seafood, while Elizabeth was getting substitute chicken and beef courses, John wished he had also made the same request as Elizabeth.

At dinner we spoke to two Canadians named Cory and Luke, the only Canadians we've seen for quite a while. They were on a ten day trip to Vietnam, and had just returned from trekking to a hill tribe village where they spent the night in a local villager's house. Their accommodations were like a rough bed and breakfast, with about twelve cots set up in a large room above where the family lived. They were the only travellers there on this night, and ate in a separate room from the family unfortunately. After dinner they were given rice wine and felt obliged to drink a shot with each family member, who introduced themselves one at a time. They weren't sure how many shots they did, but after awhile they wished the family had instead introduced themselves for group shots. They were able to interact more with the patriarch of the family, a 70 year old veteran from the Vietnam war. He told them stories of his time in Laos during the war, and could out-walk the Canadians down the muddy hill in Crocs, while the visitors were slipping down the hill in their hiking boots.

I learned later, over perhaps one too many beers, that Cory and Luke were a team. One was a pilot and the other an aircraft mechanic. They have spent the last year and a half working for a company that provides troop transport for a couple of UN missions in Mali and South Sudan. They have both been treated for a round of malaria, but otherwise have not had many problems and have enjoyed their work. I asked them if their work is risky. Luke said not really, since they only provide the equivalent of civilian transport and follow civilian aviation rules, like no weapons on board the aircraft. If conditions were to deteriorate, then the military transports would need to take over. The worst incident they have witnessed was when a secret service official for a U.S. politician on board was disagreeing with the no weapons policy, and accidentally shot a bullet into the aircraft. Luckily no one was hurt and no aircraft components were damaged, but the incident did reinforce the no weapons policy.

In the morning, on our last day on the cruise, we visited a small floating fishing village, one of the last remaining in the bay. As I said in a previous post, the government is closing them all down to better provide health and education services to the fisherman, as well as to maintain a more pristine bay for the tourist industry. We were served tea and peanuts in a small fishing house made of basic wood and a sheet metal roof, with a bed, TV, and not much else in the house. We were told that at a cost to build of around $10,000, the house was big and expensive by floating fishing village standards, where monthly incomes are $200 to $300 dollars a month. The cost of living is high here by Vietnamese standards too, where just about everything except fish needs to be shipped at two to three times the cost of mainland prices. Only the women and children were present during our visit, since the men were out fishing. The floating village also included a fish farm, where a variety of fish and shellfish were raised. On site we saw another method to catch squid at night. A large lightbulb is placed at the end of a long boom; attached to the boom is a large net around 20 feet square, which is lowered into the water and raised to catch the squid that are attracted to the light.

We certainly enjoyed the cruise and time spent in Ha Long Bay. The place is very unique and beautiful, and deserves its UNESCO world heritage site designation. We departed the cruise, returned to Hanoi for the evening, and will be flying to Da Nang tomorrow.

Here is a picture of a rowing boat moored at the floating village, with the cliffs and islands in the background. 

Floating fishing villages in Ha Long Bay

Today was day two of our cruise within Ha Long Bay. I started the day with Tai Chi on the deck. I can't say I did it any justice, but I followed the instructor's moves as best I could. It was good to start the day with a little light exercise. In the morning we took a day boat through the bay past some of the two thousand islands that cover the area. Our destination was Cat Ba Island for some biking and touring. On the island we took a newly built road five kilometres inland to a nearby village - the old lower road was still under water. There was a lot of rain and flooding in the area about two months ago that has yet to subside completely. The last time it happened was about 90 years ago, and it has really hurt the villages on the island, who are only now getting their houses and rice paddies back.

We took three bikes out, with Elizabeth on the back of our guide's motorcycle on the way out and John on the way back. Riding on a motorcycle was again a highlight for the kids. Elizabeth wore a helmet on her ride but John was struggling to get this helmet to fit on the way back. I was insisting he wear it when our guide and driver Hung said he would take care of it. I went ahead only to see John zoom by on the back of the motorcycle without a helmet. I guess that's one way of taking care of it. I feel it is our responsibility to protect our kid's brains as best we can - call me crazy.

It was a hot ride but we brought along some water. At the village we said hello to the local volunteers who were helping out. These dozen or so young people went gaga when they spotted John, and surrounded him and touched his hair. John was holding a puppy at the time so he really had no choice but to take it, much to his chagrin. I never would have imagined John would be a rock star in these parts - go figure.

We saw some old houses built in the sixties when the walls were typically made with mud and straw. When we tour these type of attractions the kids are usually not so interested and would rather occupy themselves by finding a puppy or cat to pet, which happens oftentimes and happened again today.

On the way back from the village Catheleen's bike caused her some problems with a loose peddle, so we switched bikes. I was trying to figure out how to tighten the peddle bolt with my bare hands when a local on a motorcycle stopped to assist. After taking a look he flipped the bicycle over, balanced it on his motorcycle, and asked me to hop on. So I rode the rest of the way back balancing a bike upside down between me and the driver. We have yet to rent bikes without having some kind of problem - but at least the locals are kind enough to assist. We'll need to check them better before we rent any more, but sometimes the problems show up later, like today.

We did some kayaking and swimming off the two-deck day-cruiser we're on today. The kids especially liked jumping off the top deck, and we kayaked around the islands and beaches. The swimming was good around the boat but not so much from most of the beaches, which are covered in plastic bottles and other garbage. That's one of my biggest complaints here - this country has a lot of garbage around, which takes away from its natural beauty.

Today we saw a number of small fishing villages floating on the water. The islands in the bay are so steep that there are no harbours around for a village on shore. So the locals have adapted over the last couple of centuries to living and fishing from floating villages. The villages are basically floating rafts with houses on top. The government has been trying to get rid of these communities for some time, and there is a deadline this year to try to relocate the last of them. The government wants them dismantled, they say, since it is expensive to provide services like health and education. If someone is very ill, for example, they need to be rescued to the mainland by boat or float plane.

The fishing boats run by the villagers are very small. On one boat we saw a family on board with clothes on a drying line. One person was winding up nets around a big cylinder. The nets used square wires to form boxes while in the water and collapse when wound up. I was told the nets were used to catch crabs.

Here is a photo of us with the volunteers at the village on Cat Ba.

First day on Halong bay

We took the overnight train from Sa Pa to Hanoi, and then travelled by bus to Ha Long Bay to start a two-night cruise. Our guide Nam was very friendly and informative, and tried to give us a sense of life in Vietnam in general and Hanoi in particular.

He said people in Hanoi might wake at 4 or 5 AM and begin the day with some exercise. On our taxi ride from the train station in Hanoi around 4:30 AM we saw this first hand, with runners and cyclists dominating the street traffic before the sun rises. After exercise, people might have a noodle soup called Pho for breakfast. At the hotel this morning, while we waited for the bus to pick us up, I watched the scene across the street, where two ladies had set up shop on the sidewalk for the breakfast crowd. A mother arrived with her young child and ordered something that looked like porridge, and sat down on one of the ubiquitous small plastic stools that are everywhere. She fed herself and her child while a school age girl ordered the same thing and also sat down for breakfast. Other people came and went, some ordering a coffee or drink to go. Everyone was chatting. I had the sense that the same regulars visit the same small spots here and elsewhere on the street.

Our guide indicated that many people in Hanoi are considered not very hard working, because they have benefited from rising property values and increases in rental income over the last few years. I don't know if this is true, but I find his comment interesting since he is the second Vietnamese person to show some resentment or disdain for those who can rely partially or wholly on their property for income. Makes me wonder how the people here make sense of both the country's communist tradition and an emerging market economy.

Nam noted that there are not many taboo subjects in Vietnam. People are quite open and get straight to the point when they meet. A typical introduction might include questions like how are you, how old are you, are you married, what do you do for a living, and how much do you earn. He said people still marry young, between the ages of 15 and 23, and have large families. About the only thing he said not to do is shake your fist in the air, which means you want to fight. I was thinking the obvious taboo subject is any criticism of the government, but kept that to myself.

Our first day on the cruise has been great with excellent service and food. Our cruise boat holds about 20 passengers, and the rooms are a good size, with nice large balconies and big windows to enjoy the view. The bay itself is really spectacular. We passed by island after island in the bay, most with sheer cliffs completely around the islands. Later in the afternoon we went kayaking, and were able to pass though caves under a couple of the islands. One of the caves had bats flying and screeching above us.

Here is Catheleen and Elizabeth at lunch on the cruise.