12 Days of My New Job

On the first day of my new job a nice young man come to wash the windows and I am also very impressed with the choice in plunger coffee.

On the second day of my new job I burn a really bad mark on the board room table

On the third day of my new job my computer kicks the bucket and I loose everything I anally saved

On the fourth day of my new job I move to another computer (and then another) along with all my files and mug (that was responsible for the burn mark) and highlighters and start life as a football. Although I wished I was a parallel bar instead - stick thin and groped all the time.

On the fifth day of my new job my new boss decides to buy me a new computer

On the sixth day of my new job I know my computer isn't suppose to arrive so I am ok with that
On the seventh day of my new job I watched the women's marathon and decided it was probably not a good idea that I do one myself

On the eighth day of my new job I go to another meeting and but I think of is orgasms and then I burn another mark on the board room table

On the ninth day of my new job my computer didn't arrive

On the tenth day of my new job my computer still hasn't arrived, but my new boss buys me (us) a custard tart to go with the kick-arse plunger coffee

On the eleventh day of my new job my computer finally finally finally arrives!

On the twelveth day of my new job my new computer is still working, and I think, I better stick around here eh.

Storm

Storm in Canberra today at 6.30pm. View from our backyard.

Since early February I had been engaged in a daily ritual of observing a decomposing pidgeon corpse on the top of the lane way between our house and the road (just behind the fence). First it was a lumpy dead bird with tussled greyed feathers, face up with its wings open. I almost tripped over it running out to the footpath. It was more of laziness in not having to clean it up rather than an obsession with death or forensics that I had started watching it. Then its eyes started hollowing out, and its muscles sinking into its chest. Ants and grubs moves in and infests. Dust blows over and dogs fondle it with their nose. Bones starts protruding and the feathers thins out. The pidgeon sinks into the ground, everything except its last feathers and a bulgy head you can hardly see. It stays that way for weeks and weeks and I wonder whether it could disintergrate further. Then today the rain came. The storm washes it all away.

Honey, I Blew Up The Rice Cooker

In the middle of cooking power-rice, it seems as though the 20 something rice cooker has given up on me. The bottom steel heat rim had been slightly dented and I had promptly ignored it and continued abusing my previledge of owning the rice cooker worth five dollars at the tzu-chi op-shop two years ago. The dented rim was not distributing heat properly and as time went by it was slowly burning through the bottom of the rice container. Today it managed to burn through the cooker metal, letting water seap through into the rim and the rest of the 'machine', causing a reaction between water and electricity, and eventually an explosion in the middle of my kitchen. As it died it sapped out some pussy black tears. In death, as it was in life, it was a machine with an unspeakable power I secretly feared but got such pleasure out of.

WaWa's Whirlwind Week

4 - 5 March : How To Chew Betel Nuts

The Jungle Party - it all started and ended with my ample consumption of betelnuts, courtesy of Eunice, our friend from PNG whom got it off mates from Cairns. There are a few ok photo from the small dinner before hand, and a memorable one of The Commodore and Gal dressed as Gollywogs. ur hm.

How To Chew Betel Nuts
1) Cut betelnuts into halves or quarters, especially if you have a small mouth
2) Cut mustard roots into shorter chunks, especially if you are sharing with friends
3) Pop beteluts into your mouth and chew hard
4) Coat mustard roots in lime powder (burnt shells mixture) by wetting it with your saliva first
5) Eat that, and combine well in mouth
6) Wait for some magic to happen

7 -9 March: Vietnamese Noodle Soup

With my week off before starting my new job, I went up to Sydney to visit my aunt Mei Shiang & uncle Lin. They were pretty cool, they are devout Buddhists and used to run the Sydney chapter of the Tzu-Chi Foundation for a couple of years. I love their Japanese inspired deco in their little apartment. They took me to the best Vietnamese noodle house in Sydney (The Tan Than in Flemington) freeeeek'n lick'n good.

Vietnamese Noodle Soup
1) Work up a nice stock. For the lazy, cubes from your local VN shop will do. For the not so lazy, you will need to cook up a pot of beef bones, fat, chinese five spice, celery, onions, etc. Keep this boiling the whole time.
2) Prepare ingredience. For vegos, pretty straight forward things like fried oily tofu, bok choy, bamboo shoots. For meat eaters, prepare thinly sliced raw beef, cooked ox tails and/or tendons, some cooked roast beef, and meat balls. Obviously substitute whatever you feel like, for sea food options its best to have firmer fish none of the canned variety please.
3) Prepare staples of the Vietnamese, all raw: Bean sprouts, Vietnamese Mint, sliced chillis, lime wedges
4) In a seperate pot cook rice sticks - preferrably fresh. If fresh it only just needs a quick warm up with boiling water. If dried remember not to over cook by leaving it hot.
5) Place rice sticks in serving bowl. Top with key ingredience then pour stock over top - raw beef should cook nicely in a few secs. Then put staples on, with a dash of fish sauce.
6) Wait for magic

10 March: Vege Soup

I stayed with my mate Thomasen who has moved back to Sydney from a few years stint in Canberra. She's finished uni pretty much and looking for a job. Her parents house in Mosman is a fantastic little heaven with retro deco and a wonderful Australian art collection. Thomasen, her 18yo sister Tilley and I had a sesh eating vege soup at the table after a morning of cooking interesting potato cakes for Thom's party - which was a nightmare we just managed to save with a bit of ingenuity. Shopping in Mosman was a blast! I could not believe the quality of the clothes here. I am actually very very sick of the Sydney CBD shopping - its either extremely expensive and unaffordable stuff in the QVB/Pitt St area, or the tackiest sweatshop stock from China Town and Broadway. Mosman is just the right mix and affordable prices and I honestly have not had such a good time shopping for a long time.

Vege Soup
1) Boil up a cup of kidney beans or a mixture of beans, barley and lentils, but not thoroughly cooked
2) throw in some onions, celery, carrots, and can of tomato
3) boil up. Use a hand held blender to roughly blend the pulses - but still leaving them slightly visible. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!!
4) Add salt, peper and a dash of italian parsley
5) serve with crsty bread spread with dejong mustard

11-12 March: Gormet Baked Beans On Toast

Templeton and I went sailing in Pittwater after Thom's party. On Saturday, after a wonderful breakfast of baked beans on toast cooked on The Kalitsah's trusty cabin stove, we took the girls out for a nice calm sail and a good swim near Coasters Retreat Bay.

Gormet Baked Beans on Toast
1) Open a can of baked beans and cook on medium-low heat
2) Slice thickly full grain bread, toast both sides with butter if desired
3) Pour baked beans on toast, top with a few slices of camenbert cheese
4) Sprinkle with some cracked pepper
5) Wait for magic

The Jungle Party

Its our house warming today, woo hoo have been picking bananas and cracking coconuts all morning, very much looking forward to catching up with all my mates. Pictures from this evening to come when available.

Spider Man?

Views From a Farm House

Waikato, North Island, New Zealand. Beautifully lit sky, glowing grass, flickering river water. Every day I think, this is a bloody fantastic place.


My cousin Joey - I've only ever heard of him but never met him till last friday. Its his 7th month living in New Zealand with his mum (my mum's sister) at my parent's place. He's a pretty straigh forward city kid who's never really seen a cow before. Now he's caught a cricket. (Dad helped). But he let it go after about half an hour in the nest he built for it. He says he'll probably not have enough time to spend with it. It'll be too emotionally demanding, cost him too much, throw a tanty when he doesn't call or just feels like rolling over and sleep.

My sister - grower, pruner, carer, office manager, boss, tyrant, sweepest, quality controller, over qualified, little girl that likes to throw tanties. More capable than anyone could ever think. Former capsicum addict. Now she wants out. Mad at the first place. Still mad now.

Our cat Cupes - she is sweet sixteen, has the silkiest, flirtiest meow on the planet. Sleeps a lot, like all old cats, purring insanely as she goes. She kills a lot of plants by sleeping on them. Still takes down a bird or two and goes hobbit hunting when she can be bo-vv-ered. She looooooves sardines but salmon's a grade better. She tolerates rabbits that flaunts around the lawn as if they run the place. particularly that black fluffy one with the blinky eye. grrrr. But she's just too cool to care.

Mum's Moving On

Mum tells me she had just hit menopause. Hot flushes, uncontrollable tempers, emotional eating. Surprising to me really, she's just so controlled and lives in such routine, can't think of her like that. Dad and sis has been at the brunt of the hormones, and she does use menopause as an excuse. I think its funny. She doesn't like saying good bye to her old friend. It used to remind her of her body, puts her in a good frame of mind, that she is in sync with her seasons. More excuse to drink carrot juice. So shamelessly new age. But then again periods were easy for mum. Relatively painless and brief. Not like my aunty whom spends days on end in bed. During university I used to turn blue on the first day, stretching out under the library table, having to leave a lecture. Mum is also clinical about periods, getting it down to an art in her calendar. Like her shopping lists and her plants and the alarm clock on her bedside. She says she's going to go to the doctors toremove her IUD. She chuckles at our conversation. I can't believe a piece of wire has been in there for that many years, exactly the same place where I used to be. Where she grew me from two cells to a jelly bean to a pink furball and popped me out. She tells me that the holiday she and dad have been planning for ever is finally going to take place. Leaving her diary and phone behind. No more procrastinating.

A woman is born to bleed. She is to nurture the world and to feed it, but only does it well if she is nurtured in return. She renews and she recharges. She learns and she teaches. She's really born to give and receive like all people, but she always ends up giving too much. Mum's given so much all her life. I hope now her body will tell her that its time to stop just giving, but sit back and take a bit of love in and time off.

RU486 blah blah blah

Anything to do with abortion will always arouses emotions, moral high grounds, and a whole lot of political showdown.

It shows again that the personal is the political. First there was Tony Abbott milking his "reunited with my long lost son" story then having it bite him back on the arse story. And then Lyn Allyson and Nick Minchin also comes out and shares their abortion story. Which ever side they stand and what ever the starting point, I do think it is courageous to take on this taboo. Back say 40 years ago in the first wave of abortion debates it would have been political suicide. Its interesting that it can be turned straight around. And it demonstrates that its pretty obvious that unplanned and unwanted pregnancy happens through out any section of the society, and it can happen to any body. Its not a teenage problem, its not a lower socio-economic problem, it can happen to any body, and any body, particularly the pregnant woman herself MUST have the choice to decide on what is best for her, first and formost.

As far as I am concerned the debate is not about abortion. We had that debate 40 years ago – its pretty clear that people in this country wants to uphold that simple freedom of controlling the paths of their own lives. Its about introducing this drug into Australia and the Its about the administration and control of the drug – which is a fair enough debate.

But its also very interesting that the debate is only happening now. RU486 has been available in New Zealand since 2001. Why has it taken so long for the health system to finally get the paper work going? Red tape in a regime controlled by Christian Fundamentalists.

Its not even a debate about late term abortion. RU486 is a pill (or 2 pills) that can only be used to terminate pregnancy in the first NINE weeks of pregnancy. It reduces the trauma and complication and risks of a surgical abortion. see http://www.ru486facts.org/ or google it for more info.

And then Dana we-are-aborting-ourselves-out-of-exisitence Vaile comes out with that stupid comment about Australia being over populated by Muslims and white women (I'm pretty sure Asian women are having too many babies too) are obviously out-competed in the baby popping race. (cos you know, they have the freedom to work, walk down the street without having to veil themselves head to toe, own property rather than being owned as property, choose who they want to marry, enjoy sex, use contraceptives, and god oh god have abortions!!)

If people do not think abortions are part of their moral lifestyle, then its their CHOICE (as in, I'm not referring to the free market). Don't use your moral/religious values to govern other people’s moral values. We are a much more secular society than many others, its just that the religious few seem to still want to have their say for everyone else. So they loose the abortion debate and are still trying to make it harder for other people to have more safer choices incontrolling their own bodies.

There's only one line I've gotta say: "Get your rosaries off my ovaries Mr Abbott!"

Here Again...

at Sydney Bloody Airport.

I told you I like, live here. Its so much calmer compared to three weeks ago. Every one's worn out. They ask me if I am bringing anything for anyone. What? "You know, did anyone ask you to take anything for them?". What-ever.

Today was another fine cutting it fine days. Can't continue to do this really. I had to call Freedom to tell them that I'll be there about 1 hr before the departure instead of the 2.5 hrs recommended. Dashing in on the train from Central after my bus was delayed by hail storms. Blame it on the bloody misleading bus info cos i could have got an earlier one. Raising the hair on the back of my neck as scenes of missing the brisbane plane haunted my head.

But here I am. I dodged all bureaucracies and their what-evers and I am here. Just 'nuff time to say, "neh neh neh neh" on my blog at the samsung e-lounge I've had very little trouble loving since July '03.

God I miss my mother.

Under Construction

Hey guys I am really sorry about the recent deshevelled look of my blog. Due to a series of personal and professional committments I have not been able to think or blink properly.

I have however many interesting drafts saved. Look out in about a week's time for rants on the RU486 debate, a fantastic boat launch by Lake BG, pics for the tofu burger, Templeton's rant about brick removal, "Who Is Templeton", and posts from a whirlwind tour of a farm house in NZ - yep, I'm coming home!

Pink Heart Tofu Burger

WaWa & Templeton's Valentines Day Nibblies

You'll Need:
200 g firm tofu, mashed
50 g each of shredded carrots, cabbage, onions, cheese
1/2 cup raw or canned beechroot juice
2 eggs
3/4 - 1 cup bread crumbs
3/4 - 1 cup almond meal
2 tsp curry powder
1 Tsp shredded basil and/or mint leaves
1/2 cup extra breadcrumbs mixed with some flour
Oil for shallow frying

Hands on:
Mash tofu, carrot, cabbage, onions, cheese together. Pour in beechroot juice and mix. Let them dye for about 1/2 hr to 1 hr in the fridge. Throw in eggs, almond meal and first lot of bread crumbs, curry powder and herbs and mix well. Hand shape them into flat hearts on a plate, possibly with glad wrap, add more bread crumbs if not shaping well. Coat in breadcrumbs/flour. May refrigerate further if desired. Shallow fry in med-low heat till golden brown.

Served with:
Champaign, middle eastern eggplant salad (courtesy to Sydney Morning Herald), ciabatta, followed by dessert of black sticky rice with condenced milk and greentea ice cream.

GPT

Slice half of a peach into sizable chuncks, enough to fit into a garlic crusher. Crush the stuff into a tumbler. Place ice, gin and tonic into it. Try not to overwhelm it with gin as it over powers the peach. Let it sit for 5 mins or so for the flavour to seap. YUM!

Blinking #2

Since returning to Autralia, the Baroness has been drinking a lot of Vietnamese coffee. Unfortunately she had grined the beans too fine (again) so a lot of it ended up at the bottom of the cup. She almost choked to death at one point. She has made it a point to overfeed the magpies, whom perch on the roof harrassing her with their not-quite-broken voices. Being jet-lagged and not particularly inspired her bed mate has been Shiner , the elderly and temperamental alziemerist cat rather than a group of toned and bronzed surf-life-savers she more than once glimpsed upon magazines. There's lots and lots of gum trees outside, releasing an incredible gingery smell. It is very rare to have a day like this in the middle of summer where the grass is dressed in rain drops. She has absolutely no doubt that she is flying.

Reading: Namma: A Tibetan Love Story - Kate Karko.
Listening: Evolve - Ani DiFranco.

A Cheezy Post to say How Much I Love You All

I'll never remember where I put the keys; I'll never forget who found them for me
I'll never remember which cousin ate my chips; I'll never forget which one found some more for me
I'll never remember what we sang at Kareoke; I'll never forget the hangover
I'll never remember the pin to my bank account; I'll never forget who wrote it down for me
I'll never remember their birthdays; I'll never forget the first time I met them - in the baby room at the hospital; at that bloody birthday party
I'll never remember when my plane leaves; I'll never forget who came to wave me good bye
I'll never remember to call; I'll never forget to love - every single one of them

At It Again

at it again, but never would have done it without the unique heritage and the support of my devout fans. From left: Uncle Joh, Uncle Cory, Aunty Mei Fong, Aunty Lily, Aunty Vicky

A Bite of Taiwan

On Sunday we celebrated "Bwei Ye", which is one of the smaller lead up festivals to the Lunar New Year. Traditionally Taiwanese ppl make offerings (food and prayers) on the 2st and 16th of every month to the Earth God who protects things like your house, land, crops, businesses. Sunday was the last 16th of the year (ie. December) and the last offering of the year, therefore its a pretty huge feed. In pre 20th century poor agrarian Taiwanese society, people used to only eat meat and better food when they make offerings to the Earth God, so the 2nd and 16th are big days.

On Bwei Ye we eat Lun Bian - which is a version of spring rolls - the wrapping is a lot larger and bread like than the Cantonese spring rolls that we get in NZ. Its made by "pasting" or "throwing" a big lump of wet dough onto a hot hot-plate leaving a thin layer to cook for about 3 seconds before removing as quickly as possible. I had the pleasure of watching this done at the ShiLin Night Markets on saturday - it really is an art. You serve Lun Bian with peanut powder, coriander and sweet chilli sauce (smooth paste not lumpy like the Singaporean version) , and then roast pork or roast firm tofu for the vegos, any kind of veges that's handy, and off you go with your roll. Similar fillings is used for Gua Bao, another food you eat at Bwei Ye - its like a white chinese bun and its pretty much like a sandwich version of Lun Bian.

YUM!!

Not Excited About Pandas, either.

To my surprise I have very little interest in Taiwanese politics at the moment, except for yelling at a few particularly insatiable politicians when they turn up on the telly.

I told you I was in a vegetating state. I arrived in Taiwan between President Chen making a full on speech on New Years Day re "China is for real, lets buy more missiles to get back at them" and the pending decision on the naming of these pandas that the Chinese want to give to Taiwan. If I had enough energy I'd say, fuck pandas, even if I was five. But I don't. (What's in a name? Just read the Chinese version of the story. Fuck Pandas.)

But I did find a cool picture of my Dad at the anti-sucession law protest he went to last time he was back visiting Grandpa. Go Dad.

Blinking

I am in a total inactive mode at the moment. Its been four days since arriving in Taipei and the idea of indulging into a total wind down has gotten too far into my head and I do feel like a vegetable. Its about 15 degrees here and when I arrived on Sunday I was like a snail shrivling into its shell.

its kind of slightly abrupt given the sort of days I'd lead in the last few weeks yet my body hasn't told me that it doesn't like it (yet) - ie. It doesn't feel as if its a shock to the system or anything, but maybe it is a shock to the system after all otherwise I would otherwise not be feeling this way. or that it should be unsual.

days are slightly mundane at the moment - two weeks before the Lunar New Year and everybody is busy trying to finish things off and trying to fend off the crazy marketing from shops and department stores. The kids have their exams and my uncles and aunties are working overtime so they can go away early.

I feel like I spend my life moving from one chaos to another. I sort of watch and blink a bit.

4 Days Worth of Writer's Block

My Last Sunset

The lady at the noodle soup shop insisted that I look at the sunset tonight. It was just beautiful - a dark orange that sank into a red that melted into the busy streets of Saigon. I watched it and thought about how much I have learnt, how much I have given and taken, and how much I just love being alive. The Sunset gave in to the street lights and it was just me on a cyclo roaming into town.

Like all photos on this trip, the picture just does not do it justice.

Met a brit guy and a german girl today at the Cu Chi trip so we are having a few drinks tonight.
And here I am at 12.09am on a break from my beers blogging with more Vietnamese kareoke balsting out in the background and motobikes zooming by. I am sitting at the front of the bar exactly opposite my guest house and they have rolled on the iron bar doors about 1 hr ago - i am a bit worried that i won't get in - hello! no one mentioned a curfew to me!!

Ahh. Can't believe its the end, but I am so glad I'm coming home. I miss my family in Taipei so much and there's even more in Australia that I am missing.

I am just so glad that its ending the way that it should - happy, comfortable, complete.

Cu Chi Tunnels

Cu Chi Tunnels

Cu Chi Tunnels is part of a huge network of underground tunnels used by the Viet Minh (or Viet Cong, which apparently is no longer a derogatory term as the Vietnamese have reclaimed it, so I'm going to use it) used during the Vietnam War.

Cu Chi town is about 60km from Saigon – I took a 4USD group tour there. The Guide is a comedic guy who breaks into song every now and then and makes pretty tasteless jokes about being injured by booby traps. Its a pretty good set up at the Ben Dinh tunnels - where you get a little class room to learn about the history etc, then you have some replicas of booby traps and munition factories and a fantasitc rubber-tyre sandle making workshop for tourists. Only the tunnels that we were allowed to crawl in were genuine left overs from the war, the rest is pretty much replicas. Flocks of Vietnamese kids just loves them. Most of the propaganda (obviously in the text book communist style) the outdoor Tunnel Museum blasts are really really anti-American, ie. almost personal. they call them "merciless devils" "ruthless representation of demons" and other stuff like "heartless bombs destroyers" and had a profile on a twelve year old girl soldier who was given the honour of "American-killer hero". Kind of like a less toned down version of "Tour of Duty" or "Rambo" - except the Americans are the villains. As much as I feel for the Vietnamese as victims on their own land, and they do have the right to gripe - its just as one sided as American versions of the war. Its interesting to an extent but it actually made me shut off after a while.

Saigon is the HQ of the South Vietnam and American armies - which controlled the teritory by day, but at night its the Viet Cong guerillas hiding in the tunnels that controls the vast area around Saigon. They come out at night to get supplies from the Villagers and do some fighting and booby trapping. Most of their years would be spent in darkness. We got to try crawling some 1 km of the tunnel system (I only lasted 30m...) it was dark and narrow and the fact that you are stuck in there with 20 other ppl is bloody scary - I never knew I could have claustrophobia but hey, I would be definitely after a few years in one of these, particularly having to fight, look for food, and dodge napalm.

I can not but admire the tennacity and determination of the Viet Cong - the Americans probably had ten folds more amount of resources and technology than they did - the VC had Chinese and Russian backing but really it didn't quite reach the amount of power the Americans had. I am not quite sure if ideology was really what each side was fighting for - I doubt that many of the peasants and gurillas would actually understand what communism really means. Nor most of GIs for that matter. The VC had nothing to lose - most of them are starving to death. Many of them fight on pure resentment of foreign control, revenging for the deaths of their families, and the sheer determination to protect their own land and be their own master. This is their land, that's why they won. No matter how much you may shell it, poison it, burn it - its their land.

Much of the land near Cu Chi is still laced with chemical defoliants which poisons the soil and water which still affects agricultural production in that area. Not mentioning two or three generations of babies that are born through out the years with deformaties due to their parents being exposed to various chemicals sprayed by the Americans.

The War Reminiscence Museum

Lucky me got to visit the War Reminiscence Museum in Saigon on the way back from the tunnels. Its like their version of the War Memorial,except ofcourse resources meant that its much smaller and less well curated. There are some pretty gruesome photos of massacres committed by the Americans that not many of us are familiar of, which wiped out entire villages of the elderly and children (can a five month old baby be accused of "helping the VC"??). Including one partly committed by a former American Senator Bob Kerrie who admitted to his crimes in 2001. Its really ironic that Americans can put any one they like on the international war crime trials but they deal with their own kids with their martial law. One law for me, one law for every one else. Sounds familiar?

Another irony about this museum is that a lot of the photographs are supplied by American and Western journalists rather than Viet Cong photographers from their own side of the story. Mainly because war coverage was quite novel and every news agency sent their own photographers rather than buying stuff from each other. The Viet Congs on the other hand had next to no resources to fight, let alone photography. They did have some very good photographers but the products were low in quantity and quality as they had no equipment for processing either. The ones that actually did come out had to be paint brushed like early 20th century studio photos.

A very very touching exhibition one should not miss is a gallery dedicated to photographers world over that has died in the line of duty. It was touching to me because some of the photos they took were the ones that I first ever saw about the Vietnam War as a child - ie. the one by Koichi Sawada of the woman and her kids swimming away from bombs in the river. And one of Dicky Chapelle, one of the only women photographers around at the time who's dying photo after a helicopter crash just stabbed right into me.

Other points of interest is pretty unsavoury - a guillotine brought in by the French to get rid of anti-colonialists and then used by the South Vietnam gov to get rid of communists. And some very unerving jars where deformed foeti affected by chemical sprays are preserved. You should really be prepared when you go.

So this concludes my very gruesome day of learning about the Vietnam War.

Say Saigon

Heeeeyyyyy!! I'm in Saigon!!

I am travelling alone again after a good 3 weeks with my mate Emma and then the PEPY team. I flew out of Siem Reap this morning (after a last minute dash to the temples to do a Bayon binge with Emma on a tuk-tuk, cutting it fine getting to the airport, the usual WaWa style).

Saigon is quite different to Hanoi - one obvious thing is weather - its sooooo hot here compared to the bleak coldness of Hanoi. Motorbikes are just as crazy but the roads are a lot wider and I can handle it a lot better after 4 weeks of good training all over South East Asia.

Still am not sure whether to call it Ho Chi Minh City or Saigon - I have referred to the city as HCMC before I arrived as it is the official name and seems to be a bit more PC/respectful. But since arriving and soaking in the atmosphere I've decided that Saigon is more feel good. I asked the guest house host what he calls it, he recons the older generation calls it Saigon, youngsters call it HCMC, but now there's a come back for Saigon. So dunno, I don't think the locals mind either way.

Obviously not the same city portrayed in the romanticised Western docos on the "Fall of Saigon" or the "Quiet American" type things anymore (was it ever?) - this place has seriously modernised, reminding me more of Taipei or Bangkok in many ways. Vietnamese chicks are a lot more boisterous than Cambodian girls and they seems to run the show here. Food and shopping is pretty choice here - less of the hot soups here as its hot as, so lots of fruits and cold fruity nutty coconut drinks like in Thailand and Cambodia. Seems to have more Chinese speakers here too and things are a wee bit cheaper, most likely cos its just a bit less toursty. What I mean is that there's heaps of tourists too, but that they blend in with the local consumers just as much cos its so businessy here.

My guest house room is up in a loft type place on a really really really really really busy street corner - the interior deco theme colour is obviously cream I feel like I am Repunzel living on a white pagoda. I have a little balcony overlooking the chaos, long flowy curtins and a giant picture of a water fall on the feature wall. trippy. The more expensive room I ordered (which I didn't want anyway) had been given away (again) so this room is cheaper at 11 USD/ night. Its steep compared to Laos and Thailand but its quite good for a city like Saigon. So yeah not too fussed for the time being.

I just had a shrimp rice cake soup drizzled in fish source + pig fat?!?! type dish, not entirely confident on the hygiene and am worried it might hit me some time tomorrow...
The ladies serving them at the Ben Than markets laughed at me because I had no idea how to eat it and asked for it to go with noodle soup (i had seen another girl with something similar so just asked for what I thought it was). How embarrassing.

Tomorrow I'll be heading to the Cu Chi tunnels (Viet Cong tunnels during the VN war) for a half day trip - wish me luck!!

Don't Buy The Wrong Bottle

Otherwise you'll be very very sorry. Don't rely on the labels either. Gassoline for your motorbikes comes in recycled alcohol and softdrink bottles on the side of the road. YUM!

Mystic Angkor Wat

Another dream came true this week when I visited Angkor Wat... We were lucky enough to be able to visit the temples for 2 full days and 3 quick dashes in between going to the PEPY Ride School and various other Siem Reap escapades. There are over 70 temples spread over about 40km square worth of space, so a week was really not quite enough to cover everything. Although we got to spend a lot more time than most other tourists there, it was really just a quick scrape of the highlights. For a better and more comprehensive version of history, I'd refer you to this or this, or google, rather than having me blab on and not quite doing it justice...

The first day at the Angkor was spent with our fourth grade buddies from the school, which was really quite special for them as well because most of them have never been to the temples themselves, a pilgrimage for many Cambodians. Being there was just senstational. The sheer height and spread of the main temple (Angkor Wat) was just overwhelming. Not mentioning having to descend the Wat via steel ropes! My highlight was definitely at Bayon, at Angkor Thom (Second most popular temple) where I was taken aback by the stone faces which adorned the top of the stupas. The sunlight shifting on the faces make them look as if they were alive, the lips look as if they would begin speaking and telling stories of the people that used to live and die here thousands of years ago. It would be better if there were no one else around, just me and the jungle and the stone faces - just like how Indiana Jones would have liked it. Ta Prom again was just amzing - its referred to as the "jungle temple", a low level (as in height) temple with its bricks shrowded in gigantic vines of tree roots and growth. Apparently most of the temples were in that condition at the beginning of the 20th century, but upon renovation a lot of the jungle growthwas removed. It was decided that they won't remove the growth at Ta Prom because a) its too far gone, it would take too long and too expensive, b) the root systems has in fact supported the structures of the buildings for thousands of years, to remove them it would simply collapse in a heap, and c) it just looks asthetically cool that way!!

The second full day there was probably the best day of my holiday so far - Emma, Patricia and I rode from Siem Reap to the temples and roamed the shaded paths for a day, just chasing the wind and soaking up the chill that the sandstones and the jungle gives you. Highlights include: Monkeys doing monkey business in the middle of the road, learning a silly song from kids at a shrine, finding a great pink lake at sunset, racing the local kids home, and being stuck in a traffic dispute at peak hour.


Emma and I did something rather crazy again on January 2nd, when we turned up to the temples at 5.30am for sunrise. When we arrived it was still the dead of night, shooting stars falling from the sky. We entered the main wat in pitch blackness - aided only with my tiny little kathmandu flash torch. The ground is quite uneven and it was really hard navigating through because you can't see where your feet is landing. We climbed up the Wat, again in pitch blackness - thank goodness i didn't look down. There were drones of bats shreaking in batches, one of them even did a dropping on Emma, who was obviously not impressed. There were staircases and corridor turns every where and we soon lost the 10 or so ppl that we came with. There was however a glimpse of light coming from the shrine to the giant buddha in the middle of the wat, where a few monks were guarding. Beside the giant Buddha there was a row of smaller Buddhas statues in the dim light, headless (thanks to the tombraiders - as in, the real ones) and some adorned in yellow shrowds. It was quite a spooky affair. When one of them started moving I just screamed like a baby. It was in fact one of the security guards just checking that everything is ok... Sunrise however was a bit of an anti-climax after our experience in getting there. We simply chose the wrong spot right beside a renovation construction thingimo. But being there with so many other punters was just fun by itself.

We returned for sunset on the last night before we were leaving Siem Reap, this time at Ta Prip which was a much farther away temple with less tourists. It was what I would call an abandonned castle - with its tall towers and dusty orange appearance in the sunlight, and flex like grass growing in patches on the towers - it looked like an unshaven man. It was a dramatic sunset to be on the top of an endless jungle and the sun disappearing behind the gold rims of the purple clouds. I feel so lucky, so so lucky.

PEPY Ride School

About PEPY
PEPY stands for “Protect the Earth, Protect Yourself". http://www.pepyride.org/ PEPY Ride School is the labour of love of Daniela Papi and Greta Arnquist, two very inspiring young women who started the project from their experiences of travelling in Cambodia. It started as a group of bike riders cycling around Cambodia teaching school children about environmental protection. It soon grew into a bigger fundraising project cooperating with the NGO called American Assistance for Cambodia/ Japan Relief for Cambodia, an organization that has built over 250 schools in rural Cambodia since 1999. PEPY began building a school in about 1.5 hours drive from Siem Reap. PEPY also equipped the school with desks, funded a water pump, vege patch and greenhouse, computers, and a very exciting solar panel!! (see what else on the website)

I started as a volunteer fundraiser in Australia in July this year for PEPY. My chance to check out the school and other PEPY projects was with the first PEPY volunteer trip scheduled for December 05-January 06. This is actually the main reason why I am in South East Asia right now, while combining Vietnam, Laos and Thailand while I can!!

The Volunteer Trip 31 December to 6 January
The Volunteer Trip spanned over a week where 30 of us (Many of them English teachers living in Japan) based ourselves in Siem Reap and commuted out to the school most days to work with the children and on the school grounds.

Opening Ceremony
The first day we were there was the opening ceremony for the new classrooms that PEPY built in cooperation with the Japan American Assistence and the Asian Development Bank. It was an extremely emotional morning where the overwhelming welcome and warmth from the Kerela (Amatya Sen fans – I am seriously not kidding!!) people . Most of them had not met foreigners before, and to have a bus load descending upon them was quite a shock to the system. There were 13 nations represented: We all got to introduce ourselves and our country, and it was just the most proudest moment of my life when I stepped out for Taiwan with my flag. (see previous post)

The week consisted of the following activities:

Teaching Activities
- each volunteer “buddying up” with a 4th grader – mine was a girl called Pinh. We spend a few hours with them talking to them and get them to know us. Which proved to be quite difficult as we couldn’t communicate and the kids were mostly really shy.
- English lessons – out in the field and in the class room which they just loved
- Art and craft classes - I coordinated the arts program – we gave them crayons and colouring pencils which many of them hadn’t seen before
- Sports - we also gave them soccer balls and frisbees etc)
- Environment and hygiene - Clean up rubbish competition, and teaching them how to brush their teeth

Classroom Upgrades
- Desks – which we donated were sanded
- Decorations, a lot of which were contributions from Japanese children
- Gifts to the school: books and stationary, including a special edition of Harry Potter in Khmer – which JK Rowling gave special permission to translate and publish

Ground Projects
- Greenhouse – contracting students from a nearby Agricultural School also run by an NGO to train homeless kids
- A water pump – water comes straight out of the pump so kids don't have to exploit the lily pond at the back of the school
- Vege patch – already completed, to feed the staff and some kids that may need to travel a bit
- Paving and Fencing – PEPY volunteers to complete
- Other gardening
- Solar Panel – to be completed - I was disappointed to not get my hands on the solar panel as it had been late, but hopefully the March and August Trips would yield some pictures for me!!
- And A FANTASTIC MURAL which a Japanese school girl designed and we painted on the walls

It was really really hard work as we were working right through under the boiling sun. Every day was a grilling bumpy ride out and in from the school and usually I was covered in mud – but when we left we knew that it was a huge achievement for us and appreciated by the whole town immensely. What is most fantastic about PEPY is that it’s a continuous commitment with the School. There’ll be another trip in March and another one in August already planned. I will certainly be continuing to fundraise and advocate on behalf of PEPY and keep you all updated with their progress.

More extensive photos on the PEPY site: http://www.pepyride.org/gallery/index.php

Follow the PEPY Riders (they began on January 10th)
http://www.pepyride.org/journal/journ.html

Rising The Taiwan Flag

On the last day of 2005 I rose the flag symblising Taiwanese independence amongst 12 flags representing 12 other nations which helped build the PEPY Ride School. This is probably one of the proudest moments of my life. Being able to bring Taiwan to the world the way I want to has always been my biggest dream. In 2005 I have achieved so much in both my personal and professional life, in big ways and little ways. But I think this tops it all.


Flag courtesy to World United Formosans for Independance, and my Aunt Jean that posted it to me. This is for all of us.

Happy Pizza

- large beer lao = 1.20 USD
- khmer style noodle soup = 1 USD
- 2 slices happy pizza = 2 USD
- 1 container of fruit for your room mate who has diahorrea (most likely from eating grasshopper the night before) = 2000 riels
- tip for happy staff = 200 riels
- winter melon(coly) tea = 1 USD
- view of the Mekong River rolling by = free
- 2 beroccas in the morning = 40 baht
- being mindblowingly happy for 8 hours in Phnom Pehn = absolutely priceless

Emma ATE a Grasshopper

Words fail me at moments like this. Ask Emma for a copy of the video.

The Cambodian Children's Fund

The PEPY ppl were lucky enough to be invited to a special performance put on by the Cambodian Children's Fund in Phnom Penh, funded and run by Scott Neeson, a sort of Australian who used to be a film exect. The CCF is a shelter/school for around 120 kids who are either orphaned, abandonned or abused. See the website on what they do http://www.cambodianchildrensfund.org/

There were traditional Khmer dances which were just pure cute and enlightening, but also most poignent for me was the story of Srey, which is a true story of one of the students which she wrote herself - of the story of being born to a drunk father and gambler mother who makes them go through the rubbish dump and pimp for money. They get robbed by gangsters but finally gets sent to Scott's school where they found sanctury and education. It was a truly moving story because the actor/director/writer actually cried real tears on stage and made the rest of the childre and rest of us cry on the spot. All the children share pretty much the same story and they have been in really dark tragic places I could never imagine in my entire life. A lot of the girls barely 13 or 14 has been forced into prostitution and many many of them had not gone to school for a day before they went to the CCF.

Their generosity was so overwhelming - after the performance we got to mingle a bit with the kids & teachers. They were really curious about where we were from and what we did, etc etc. THey dressed in simple and clean uniforms and held our hands and asked our names. I had twenty kids one time surrounding me wanting to climb onto me. I let them play with my camera and they took some crazy photos. They tought me some Khmer like how to count and names of fruits. We shared a fantastic evening of dancing (break dancing & acrobats from the kids) they gave us lei leis of jasmine and orchids, it was just so warming. There's so much hope here, so much happiness. I have overwhelming admiration for not just Scott but the many many people - Cambodians and foreigners making a difference here. 18 months ago most of these kids were pretty much living just like in Srey's story - on the streets in a dark corner wishing that they weren't there.

When we walked out of the school and into the night there were more children in rags asking us for money and food. To think that there are only 120 of them here being protected and nurtured, educated and loved, and that there thousands and thousands of them still out there alone, struggling, cold, hungry, in dispair - I feel that the light at the end of the tunnel is still really far away.