I'm playing for the law faculty's volleyball team today in an inter-faculty tournament. I was quite looking forward to the day, but it turns out that none of the other girls on my team know how to play, which leads to a boring game. Grrrr. A lot of the girls on the other teams are quite good and it would be really fun to play with them. But as it is, my team gets slaughtered- basically, we can't even make a single play and I am also the only one that can serve the ball over the net.

So I kind of feel like this is a total waste of my day, but can't bail now unfortunately. At least I brought my computer so I can try to get some work done between matches. 4 more hours of this to go....

Fabulous! I have figured out how to add images to this blog, which means that I can now also share photos of my travels with you. These are two pictures that my friend T.T. took of Koh Tao, Thailand when we were there earlier this month. I'm getting a digital camera soon as well, so I will have more to share in the future....

I've decided that the best way to ensure that I get my thesis done by the end of the year is to stay here in the library until close every night (closes at 10pm, so it's really not that late). The only problem with this plan is that it's like an ice box in this library and I feel like I should have lugged my winter gear out here to put up with such extreme climes! Instead, I am wrapped in my too-thin pashmina scarf feeling my nose go numb. Oh well. One must suffer. ;-)

So, holing away in the library probably won't give rise to the most scintillating blog entries, but you never know... besides, I've got a few trips planned for the coming month. Can't spend every second working! And let's not forget about sailing- tomorrow is lesson 2.

I had my first sailing class ever yesterday. The university here has a sailing club, and I signed up for a class that they were offering with the Sea Sports Club out on the East Coast of the island. It is a 3-day course on laser sailboats- small one person racing boats. My next classes are Thurs and Sat next week. Anyway, I loved it! On our first day we were only out on the water for a little over an hour because we had to spend a lot of time going over theory, tying knots, how to rig up the boat, etc. I capsized within about 3 minutes of being out to sea, because of extreme confusion over what the heck I was doing, but then managed to keep the boat upright and moving back and forth for the next hour. Capsizing was a bit of an event, because you then have to single-handedly get the boat upright and haul yourself back into the boat (need to lose weight and build upper body strength to make that part a bit easier), but I am glad I did capsize because it made me realize that falling in really is not a big deal at all. Can't wait for Thursday and more sailing!

Oh, and the East Coast is really lovely. The Sea Sports Club is out at a place called Pasir Ris, which is much more residential. There are parks, trails, beaches. You can even see Pulau Ubin (another small island) from the beach where we launched. And in fact, the park at the Sea Sports Club has the coolest playground ever! If I was a kid, that place would be my heaven. Who am I kidding? I don't have to be a kid to enjoy it!

Today is the last day of the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival. I went to Chinatown yesterday to see if there were any special celebrations happening, but alas, there didn't seem to be much besides copious amounts of mooncakes for sale. Apparently, the moon festival is no longer that big of a holiday- not even comparable to Chinese New Year. My Chinese roommate, Tang, said that the Moon Festival has even been surpassed by Christmas in China!

I've tried a few bites of mooncake though, in honor of the holiday. That's an interesting story.... apparently mooncakes became famous because during the time when the Chinese were under threat from the Mongols they used the mooncake to smuggle messages to organize a rebellion to overthrow the Mongols. The mooncakes are a very rich cake made from lotus paste and other sweet fillings, and the Mongols didn't like them, so they knew the Mongols would never find the messages hidden inside. The rebellion was organized for the 15th day of the 8th moon, was ultimately successful, and led to what today is the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival.

While on the topic of food, I did decide to try a local food while I was in Chinatown yesterday- peanut soup. Basically, it tasted like sugar water with peanuts in it, so I wasn't really that keen on it. Though it did have really yummy rice dumplings with a peanut butter-like filling inside.

You can also get toasted sandwiches out of vending machines here. It kind of scares me, so I haven't tried it....

I don't often think of Asian countries as being as overtly patriarchal as, for example, the Middle East or Latin America, but gender discrimination certainly still exists out here. I just found out about two existing policies in Singapore that illustrate this point. First, health coverage in Singapore does not extend to the dependants of female civil servants, only of male civil servants (comes from the idea that the male should be the main provider for the household). Second, the medical school here has a quota system where only 1/3 of the class can be female. Apparently, this discriminatory practice is accepted because of the heavy government subsidies expended on medical education and the "belief that female doctors are more likely to quit active medical practices when they get married and become mothers, thus wasting national resources." To me, this is an illustration of why Singapore is still hovering on the edges of the developed world, but hasn't made full entrance into it. There needs to be some basic recognition of equality between the genders, and at the very least an attempt to purge discrimination from government programs.

While I do enjoy living in Singapore, I also have a few gripes. And this blog wouldn't be completely honest if I didn't include the negative, would it? First, the one thing that has REALLY annoyed me these last couple of days is the way Singaporeans communicate- they will not answer simple questions! I know this is cultural and North Americans are actually probably quite unique in their directness, but having been conditioned into the North American way of relating to the world, I can't help getting a little annoyed sometimes.... So, examples: (1) I wanted to order a pizza. I called the pizza place and asked what their special included (they advertise 2 for 1)- was it a 1 topping pizza or a 2 topping pizza, etc? The woman WOULD NOT answer my simple question. No, I had to give her my address and actually order it. But how could I order the pizza if I didn't know what I was ordering??? (2) One of the local gyms was advertising a 6-week trial membership for $20. Wow, that sounds like a great deal, right?? So I called up the gym to find out how long the promotion was lasting, and what the normal membership fees were. Would they answer my questions? Of course not. I had to make an appointment to go in to the gym and meet one of the managers for a tour and to discuss membership options. So I did this. All I wanted to know about was the trial membership. Would they tell me anything about it? Of course not (I am beginning to wonder if it even exists). They kept trying to push a full membership on me and a 12-month contract, and even gave me a special student "deal" ("only for you"- yeah right). And I had to sign up TODAY or the offer would go away. I admit that when we finally got down to a the student deal, it was an ok price, but of course I hadn't come prepared to pay an enrollment fee and 3 months deposit. Couldn't even pay it today if I wanted to. After over an hour of meeting with the guy for a simple gym membership, it all came to nothing. See why I am annoyed? And I am a very patient and tolerant person! You should have seen my friend Heather who was with me (and admittedly still has "the rage" against Singapore- even after living here for 6 months)- she was seething!!

Pretty much everyday there are little things like this that happen here in Singapore. In general, none of this bothers me, because I have actually experienced far worse inconveniences in other places in the world. It's all part of what you have to expect about living overseas. If you come with an expectation that things will be the same as at home, you are bound to be disappointed and to not enjoy your time overseas. Expect to have to adjust to a totally different way of living, and you can chalk it all up to a "different" but simulataneously exciting and enriching experience! So yes, I am a bit annoyed, but it's a small inconvenience when considered on the whole.

All the same, I think I will make a list of things I "like" and "don't like quite so much" about life out here (in order to give you all the real picture of life in Singapore):

I LIKE
- The diversity of neighborhoods and places to hang out in Singapore- it will take me the whole year to explore this entire island.
- The multiracial society.
- How CLEAN everything is (huge fines for littering and such is a small sacrifice to keep a city this wonderfully clean).
- Singapore's location- it's a great base for exploring the rest of Asia.
- All the subsidized activities, food, computers, etc. for students out here.
- The excellent public transportation system.
- That taxis are so affordable.

I DON'T LIKE
- How long it takes to get everywhere on public transportation (waiting and more waiting) and that I couldn't have a car or motorbike if I wanted to because of all the fees and never-ending procedures to go through.
- That it also takes forever to hail a taxi in this city- waiting an hour on the street is not unheard of.
- People walk soooo slow here, never move to let you pass, and will often smash into you on the sidewalk and not apologise.
- The only real form of local entertainment seems to be shopping.
- Living costs are quite high (except food at school), and the apartments really are not very nice for what you pay.
- That the rulemaking goes a little far here... leading to a complete lack of flexibility in all areas of life.

Singapore has some fantastic storms. Booming thunder, lightning, torrential downpours...the whole works. Love it (especially for the cooling effect). Right now I am waiting out such a storm. Normally they pass within an hour or so. I don't want to attempt to walk to the bus while the rain is still coming down, so instead I am hanging out in one of covered outdoor walkways between buildings and getting caught up on internet and such. The buildings here are architecturally designed to be as "open air" as possible. Thank God, because it actually gets soooo cold in the classrooms where the AC is pumping that I would rather put up with a little heat than freeze to death.

I am very impressed with my fellow students and professors (the two that I have) here at the National University of Singapore. Studying here really impresses upon me the narrow-minded approach that Americans have to the world. Yes, law school in the U.S. is probably the most challenging in the world, and no doubt prepares students more to be lawyers than schools out here (I still can't believe law degrees are an undergraduate degree in most of the world?!), but still our education is very limited to what matters in AMERICA, and no where else. We just don't look outside. Here in Singapore everyone knows about the legal systems in, at the very least, the US, UK, Australia, New Zealand, France, Germany, India, China, and maybe even places like Sri Lanka and South Africa. It's amazing. They can tell you how the political systems are structured, how judges are selected for the highest court of the land, how international law is incorporated into the domestic laws... sometimes I feel rather small when I realize that my Singaporean professor may actually know more about the American legal system than I do.

Singapore is a very interesting country in which to study the law because Singapore intentionally look to other countries for guidance in its own courts. For example, Singapore's tax law is taken almost totally from South African tax law. Singaporeans look around the world to see who is doing things right, and then borrow and make it their own. Of course, Singapore has only been a country since 1965 and is still very much in the early years of developing its judicial system. But it's good to be in a country where people realize that they can learn something from the experiences of others....

So I promised I would actually write something about my trip to Thailand, rather than just babbling on about technology and backpackers.... I spent one day in Bangkok, basically doing nothing, with the exception of going to one of my all-time favorite restaurants for dinner: Cabbages and Condoms. I love this restaurant! Now, you may be wondering about the name...it does have a purpose. The restaurant is run by the Population and Community Development Association, one of Thailand's biggest charitable organization, in an effort to raise public awareness about AIDS. The name "cabbages and condoms" came from the idea that condoms should become as common and "everyday" in Thailand as is cabbage (a staple of the Thai diet). So, the restaurant serves great food, including vegetables that come from rural development projects, and simultaneously raises money for an important mission. It ultimately makes one's meal that much better knowing that your money is going back into the community. That, and they even give out free condoms in place of mints at the end of your meal.

The main purpose of the trip to Thailand was to accompany my friend Heather back to Koh Tao, where she had been taking a diving course and needed to pick up some gear that she left behind the last time she visited the island. I had never been to Koh Tao before, but had spent an idyllic few days on neighboring Koh Pha Ngan in August 2001. Koh Pha Ngan is famous for it's full moon rave parties, but as you probably all know, I'm not much of a raver, so I actually spent my time there on the other side of the island enjoying a peaceful, tropical paradise. Koh Tao is similarly situated, with beautiful stretches of beach and lush green hills. Koh Tao, however, is eerily reminiscent of "The Beach" in that a small community of westerners have found their way to the island, and apparently never plan to leave.... It's "the" place to dive in Thailand, so divers come from all over the world to either teach or take the dive masters training programs. They pretty much spend their days diving and basking in the sun, and their nights drinking and using drugs. It's a bizarre alternative universe that draws a certain type of person in, creating a microcosm of Western culture in the midst of a Thai paradise. The locals and tourists flit around in the fringes of this culture, and if they're like me, try to actually avoid the Western influence and find the Thai culture that still exists if one looks for it....

So, the trip to Koh Tao was very enjoyable because I mostly just lazed about on the beach and ate good Thai food. I was there with Heather and two other girls whom we pick up along the way- T.T. from New York and Flavia from Brazil. They were both lovely girls and I really enjoyed talking to them. Also, there was a fantastic tropical storm our second night at the beach, and I LOVE these types of storms. Sitting on my balcony staring out at the sheets of water pouring off the tin roof and the rain pounding beyond was a most enjoyable way to pass the evening.

Went back to Thailand this last weekend for the first time since 2001. It was great to be back! Although the rushed weekend trip to Bangkok and Koh Tao did not fully satisfy my need to experience Thailand all over again. And it was a bit strange to be back as a tourist, rather than living there. It also made me feel rather old, to see how many changes had happened in just a few short years. The biggest change that I noticed was a change in the backpacker culture. Of course, there are still the age-old grungy backpackers out there who go to Thailand for no other reason than to wallow in their own filth and lose their minds to drugs. But there also seems to be a "new age" of backpackers who no longer retreat from the rest of the world as they backpack across unexplored lands, but is a city-hopper who travels on the high-tech road complete with laptop computer and mobile phone. Hostels are now providing wireless for these savvy travellers- no more tramping through unfamiliar streets to hunt down an internet cafe or waiting in frustration as the one computer in the shop keeps booting you off in the middle of emails. It's all about 24 hour contact with friends and relatives, photos taken with digital cameras sent immediately over the internet, and free internet calling and constant instant messaging. Some of these technological advances are a bit disconcerting for those of us who appreciated the simplicity of life on the ride, but at the same time the indisputable convenience of travelling as such is a seductive possibility. I am about to succumb to some of these developments myself, planning to venture into the world of skype and to buy my first digital camera soon. I don't think I will go so far as to bring my laptop with me on trips (the paranoia of losing it or having it stolen on the road is too great), but I do appreciate the pervasive presence of technology and how easy it has made it for me to stay in touch with family and friends back at home.

The Singaporean government tries to keep everyone in line by instituting strict laws and penalties- of course, Singapore is infamous for this and most foreigners know that you can't chew gum, do any drugs (automatic death penalty), jaywalk, etc. The aspect of this "rule of law culture" that I most get a kick out of are the government banners everywhere on the street showing a person breaking the law, with the slogan "Think you can do such-and-such? THINK AGAIN." Ha ha, I love those. I've seen those banners for jaywalking and weaving in and out of traffic. One of my friends told me she saw a similar banner showing a person trying to squat on a western-style toilet (Singapore has both western-style toilets and more traditional squat toilets, and I guess some people don't understand the concept of a sit-down toilet and try to climb up on the toilet and squat, thus, as you can guess, causing a huge mess).

I had a very eventful weekend. Signed up for a tour of China Town sponsored by the university on Saturday. The best part of the day was a visit to the Chinese Heritage Center. The center is a cleverly-designed museum that showcases life in China Town at the turn of the century. Half of the museum is a replica of the living quarters of the residents of China Town at that time- one can walk through and looking into cell-like rooms, kitchens, and workshops in order to understand what living conditions were like back then (extremely cramped and poor). In fact, I think it is one of the best cultural museums I've been to because of this aspect- aside from pictures, films, etc. it gave a real picture of what life was like for the Chinese immigrants.

Saturday evening I went to a beach party sponsored by the Graduate Students Society. The party was held on Sentosa Island- a small island directly to the south of the city. Sentosa is mostly a resort and man-made beaches, although it was still lovely, and good to know that there is a beach nearby where I can escape the urban jungle. Though I am hoping that Pulau Ubin (another nearby island) offers a more genuine (or perhaps I should say less resort-like) beach experience.

The party was definitely fun, although kind of like reverting to college madness. lots of European exchange students making themselves sick from the free flow of alcohol.

I'm beginning to explore more of Singapore. I have now been to China Town, Boat Quay, and Orchard Road, as well as Little India, Kampung Glam, Raffles, Clarke Quay, and the Harbour Front. Orchard Road is the shopping mecca of Singapore. Huge shopping malls and department stores line the street, selling everything from designer shoes to knock-off watches and tourist t-shirts. There are a few good reasons to visit Orchard Road, primarily big book stores and movie theatres. Boat Quay is one of the more picturesque areas on the waterfront- it is across from the Asian Civilizations museum and is basically a row of restaurants with patio dining on the waterfront. China Town is just what you would imagine- a mini China squeezed into an 8 - 10 block radius. I loved it. There are cheap merchandise stalls, shops selling beautiful antiques, and a whole street of hawker stalls selling Chinese food. I want to go back at night because it looks like they block off the street and light paper lanterns all around.

An observation about Singapore: Singaporeans are super good at marketing. Everywhere you go there are advertisements and many are quite high-tech and catchy. In the underpasses on Orchard Road the walls are lined with billboards that change in perfect synchronization. The clubs at school must have so much money because their event posters are huge and poster-like with color pictures and advertising catch-phrases.

Melaka, Malaysia is small, artsy town in the southwest of Malaysia. A 4.5 hour bus ride from Singapore (a small chunk of which is spent at immigration), Melaka is an easy weekend trip. I went to Melaka to meet up with my good friend Chizuru, who was passing through Malaysia on her way to India. Chizuru and I somehow both managed to arrive at the Traveller's Lodge in Melaka within half an hour of each other, quite a feat seeing as we both were a bit delayed getting there, and I spent about an extra hour walking around the town just trying to find the hostel. First, for anyone going to Melaka, Chizuru and I definitely recommend staying at the Traveller's Lodge. It's inexpensive, very clean, friendly, and in a good location. Chiz and I actually spent a good deal of time just lounging in our air conditioned room and getting caught up on each other's lives (while enjoying some decadent wine and chocolate). Aside from long chats between friends, we spent most of our time wandering around Melaka's China Town, popping in and out of clothing and crafts shops and art galleries. We both loved the local artists in Melaka, falling particularly hard for the paintings by an artist named Titi, who was as friendly as he was talented. I have to confess that we didn't do much besides talk, shop, and eat. We made a point of sampling some of the local baba nyonya delicacies at Cafe 1511, and went to a really fabulous make-your-own-satay restaurant called Capitol Satay.

The American influence is omnipresent in Singapore. Televisions on the public buses screen American shows and advertise American movies ("Must Love Dogs" is getting a lot of promotion out here). American brands are everywhere-- I can probably find almost any store out here that I could find in the States. For that matter, the Scandinavians also seem to be doing well, as many people have Nokia phones and I live right next to an IKEA (in fact, my first ever visit to IKEA was here in Singapore). One of the cool things about Singapore is that it is such an interesting mix of cultures. Not only is the Western influence unavoidable, but, of course, Asia has made its mark here as well. Today, when I was talking with my research advisor about the different ethnic areas of town-- Little India, Kampung Glam (Malaysian), Arab Street, China Town-- he made the comment that Singapore is actually "one big China Town." In many ways this is true, as the Chinese make-up by far the largest proportion of Singaporean people and the Chinese way of doing things is reflected in government and business. Singapore has differentiated itself from China, however, in promoting its multiracial society. I am still trying to grasp how exactly this all works, as it seems clear to me that many people associate with those from their respective ethnic and language groups (walking down the street you may pass different small groups of people speaking in Mandarin, Hindi, Malay, and other dialects), but at the same time nearly everyone in Singapore speaks English and groups communicate with each other through English. Also, I believe the government has an official policy of trying to make the different groups mingle- for example, in their housing scheme there are quotas (or something of that sort) that say, for example, "so many Malays must live in this neighborhood, or building, so that the neighborhood remains multi-racial." It's all very structured. Probably the most structured/regulated place I have ever been. I have yet to decide if I think the regulations are too invasive, or rather, easy to live with.

Singapore turned 40 on August 9th, and in recognition of this occasion, the city hosted a whole week of celebration. I attended the celebration at Marina Bay on Sunday evening with a group of foreign students from China, Japan, and Hong Kong who all live in the same building as myself. After making many transfers between trains and buses, we found our way to the celebration site, and decided to start the evening with a traditional "steamboat" dinner. Steamboat reminded me of Japanese suki yaki because it was a pot filled with boiling broth placed in the center of the table-- everyone then went to a buffet of raw meats and vegatables and filled heaping plates to bring back to cook in the broth. This particular steamboat had the added element of a grill surrounding the pot where each diner could choose to grill meats and vegetables instead of boiling them. It was a kind of make-your-own dinner event (which I love). Most of us foreign students were amateurs at steamboat, and managed to burn many of our meats on the grill, before we realized that we were supposed to put some oil on the grill to prevent burning. Alas, we ended up making such delicacies as "cucumbers a la charcoal." The meal ended with a free ice cream bar-- flavors to choosed from: red bean or corn. I really have a hard time getting used to beans and corn as the dessert flavor of preference in this region of the world.

After dinner, we made our way out to the concert grounds, where Singapore played host to a number of famous singers from China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. We watched a sort of "Asian Spice Girls" performance before the stage fell silent for the fireworks show. And what a show! These fireworks far out-performed any I had ever seen. In the U.S. we tend to think that the most magnificent fireworks involve the biggest explosions, but here the fireworks became a form of art, like a dance. Each night during the celebration Singapore hosted a different fireworks "choreographer" from around the world. The man who put on our show was from France, and the entire show was beautifully choreographed to music and sound-effects blasted through speakers. It was so beautiful that there were none of the "oohs" and "ahs" of a usual fireworks display, but instead a deep silence of appreciation.

The blog is officially up and running once again as I set off on a new set of adventures abroad.... It all starts today, my first day in Singapore. I don't have a lot to report yet, as most everything is a bit of a blur, as it usually is on the first day in a new place. The taxi ride from the airport across town to my apartment gave my first glimpse of what it really means to be one of the world's busiest ports-- Singapore's shore is lined with enormous cranes and huge shipping boxes, and boats dot the horizon. What I saw of Singapore's downtown as we sped past on the highway included soaring skyscrapers and more skyscrapers under construction. I live somewhere on the edges of town (I am really not quite sure where yet), on the 15th floor of an apartment complex that can be defined more by it's stark simplicity than its comfort. I share a rather small, linoleum-covered bedroom with another girl, whom I have yet to meet. As far as I can tell, there is no air conditioner, which was a big disappointment after living a whole summer in DC with inadequate AC. I guess I had nothing to complain about.... So, I'm feeling a bit skeptical about my housing arrangements, but will reserve judgment for the time being. I've spent the last few hours wandering around the NUS campus trying to get my bearings-- quite a task because the campus is so huge! Not much to report besides the fact that I managed to successfully register for classes. Next I need to meet my advisor and register for my student visa.

Delhi Impressions

Delhi is everything everyone ever described and more. We are staying in a rather dingy hotel (the"Smyle Inn") in Paharganj near Old Delhi. Last night we discovered the meaning of "cleanish" rooms- ie. there's hair on the sheets and pillow and the blankets smell like a dirty dog. Actually, it's not so bad for seasoned travellers such as ourselves. Well, we did sleep covered head to foot in our clothes (primarily due to the chilly night air though), banged the bed several times to kill any microscopic flesh munchers, and surveyed the wall thoroughly for blood (it is said the bed bugs lie in wait on the wall instead of in the beds for their prey). We also covered the pillow cases with Cara's sleeping bag to make sure no remnants of the last sleepers haunted us at night. You see, Cat is a little paranoid after being attacked by those mysterious bed bugs in London, that left her itching for weeks and scarred still.

Paharganj is a bustling tourist haven. Bright oranges, purples, blues, greens, yellows, golds, silvers, and every color in between dangle from shops. The streets are just wide enough for two rickshaws and a motorcycle to squeeze by each other, of course, narrowly missing colliding with the scores of pedestrians also trying to pick their way through the busy streets. Street vendors constantly haggle passersby to come into their shops and sample their wares. Blaring horns urging anything in front of it to get-out-of-the-way. Cows really do seem to "blend right in", unperturbed by the noise, chaos, and frantic mobility. It is common for a cow to stop in front of a cafe and gaze at you while you eat, or to see an elephant walking through the streets while eating dinner. The cows often graze in the garbage (wouldn't want to eat that) though shop owners do feed the lucky cows a carrot or two in the evening. The streets are uncommonly clean considering the cows wander throughout, in fact we do not have to "watch our step"at all. Although we have decided that this may be a result of the constant traffic, resulting in the fact that any fecal matter is simply ground into the street, rather than the possibility that there are persons specially employed to clean up the shit of these holy animals.

We are still discovering the food. Indian food definitely deserves its good reputation. So far, we've only tasted the vegetarian fare, and lots and lots of chai masala (what we know as chai in the states- a milky, sweet, ginger, cardamom delight). We've also had a couple of fabulous sticky honey sweets from street vendors, and samosas of course.

Peanuts cooked in hot sand, rice balls boiled and topped with syrup, samosas (a pastry filled with curried veggies and potato) with chutney and yellow curry served in a biodegradable leaf bowl, many forms of chapati, etc also line the streets . ..

We arrived in Delhi on Saturday morning, fortunately avoiding the exceedingly long immigration line at the airport through the stealthy work of a business man Cat befriended on the plane. We then sailed through the crowds of taxi cab drivers, having pre-arranged airport pickup with our hotel. Ahh, smooth sailing . . .we loved India already.

The people are joyful, kind, friendly and helpful, save a few amusing calls, "where are you from? Are you from Australia? You are very beautiful. Why are you so serious?" As far as the impending tormet that we were told awaited us, we have experienced very little of it. Of course, there are the typical pushy shopkeepers and male stares, but this is nothing threatening in the least. Maybe many people who've travelled here and felt immensely harrassed had not travelled to Arab countries previously. So far, nothing compares!

As far as begging goes, yes, it is intense. This is definitely a country of contrasts. Children and elderly people do tug your arm, but children seem to know you will not give them $$$ and ask for chai instead (of course this request is much harder to refuse). Their feet are black with dirt and crusty from walking on pavement. Mothers with babies wrapped in their arms follow you and look after you with pitiful eyes. It is a difficult situation to deal with because we want to do all we can to help them, but we're not sure what the best approach is. We have had a number of conversations about this, but these social problems remain unresolved. The poverty in India is more "in your face" than in many other places, so it makes one have to confront the problems, rather than simply push them to the side... How many countries have open, tiled urinals in side streets where men go to relieve themselves, backs to the street, requiring passersby to squeeze past them as they urinate and fill the air with their filthy stench? (the street referred to is on the way to our hotel. Funnily enough, we didn't notice that men were actually openly peeing right next to us until maybe our 4th or 5th time passing by. Wondered where that smell came from...)

We had a discussion with a shopkeeper the other evening who loved Bush, and thought all Muslims were bad people (of course we do not share his opinion). He said that everyone here has his or her place (referring to the caste system) and told us of his state, Rajasthan.

Yesterday evening we wandered to Connaught Place, past families and groups of rickshaw drivers cooking their evening meal on open-fires on the sidewalks. Trees overhang the dark street that glows with the firelight. . . .we meandered through a labyrinth of concrete barriers blocking the construction on the metro, and finally found our way to the heart of Connaught Place. Here, wealthy Indians go to have icecream and eat in nice restaurants. McDonalds and Pizza Hut were available. After wandering around for awhile we decided to hire an auto rickshaw back to Paharganj.

We spent much of today and yesterday wandering the bazar in Pahaganj and have already broken down and purchased gifts. We know of two friends getting married and just couldn't resist the urge to buy wedding gifts. There are many tempting products in the shops here, and we simply can't resist the prices!

Somehow three days have disappeared and we're not really sure what we've done with ourselves. Wandering up and down Paharganj, talking with shopkeepers, sleeping late into the morning, trying to make plans to leave Delhi (seems we keep postponing a departure), getting caught up on email, and simply commencing the real vacation.

We’re trying to figure out what to do for the next couple of weeks. We have two girls from the office coming down to meet us here on Sat. Masha, the director of YHRG and Nadira, the program director, will be here with us for New Years. We can't wait to see them, but it does make our touring a little complicated as Masha has already been here and will only stay for a week. I think our best travel options are to either visit Rajasthan or Kashmir during their time here. Maybe Cat and I will go to Varanasi for a few days before they arrive this Saturday. Well, that's all the news for now.

-Written by Cat, with a few additions by Cara

Travel adventures begin anew as we wander the streets of Delhi, taking in the vibrant life of one of the world's most crowded and exotic countries....

First, however, we want to post some rather amusing anecdotes on Central Asia, written by two British travellers-- Basher and Jeremy-- who we met during our last week in Kyrgyzstan, and who added a bit more fun and flavor to an already memorable week in Bishkek. Here are Jeremy's observations on Central Asian Livin':

[This is an account of Jeremy and Basher's visit to Uzbekistan (one could easily substitute Kyrgyzstan- the cultures are very similar), with insights into Central Asian families, food, and toilets.... ]


"So with equal amounts of curiosity and trepidation, we arrived in Samarkand to the home of Feruza's spinster aunt Madluba, a mafia hunter employed by the government, and a sort of ball-busting version of Dorien from Birds of a Feather. Madlubu had devoted her off-work hours to caring for the hibernating bundle of blankets in the corner who she introduced as her mother. Grandma manifested few visible lifesigns, but stirred sporadically to mutter something in Russian to nobody in particular. You are like Jesus・she told me inexplicably. Unfortunately, my healing hands didn't run to curing advanced dementia.

Next up was the home of another aunt, Madriga, whose domestic arrangements involve labouring all day to bring in the mutton, while hubby sits around in a khalat, and occasionally gives his teenage son a clip round the ear. Then finally to the Bukhara abode of Feruza's own dear mother ・a journalist of some local renown, apparently, but one battling behind closed doors with the demon drink (Anyone for vodka? Oh, just me again then)・. Despite putting on her Best Mum in the World act for our benefit, mother-daughter tensions were clearly running high. The What are you doing with your
life・routine was the favourite, although the truth is that Feruza is engaged in highly daring political activism as well as putting hand to mouth as a waitress, whilst her mother subsidises big bruv professional naval-gazing. Nevertheless, the order of the day was plov-a-plenty (see below), many jovial enquiries into all things British, a rather disturbing randy fascination with Basher, and an insistence that we propose a lot of toasts, as a poor excuse for the woman to neck more vodka.

The Uzbek Book of Hospitality contains only one golden rule: offer your visitors everything you've got, and don't take no for an answer. Whatever food you have must be served up immediately (We got six mint humbugs,
half a melon and some vodka), and if your kids have any amusing talents they must use them to full effect (Dance girl, can't you see we've got guests?!). Oh, and remember: mutton equals happy guests.

Food, spurious food

Central Asian cuisine has evolved from the traditional diets of ancient Turkic tribes. The sum total of this accumulated culinary wisdom comes down
to this: catch an elderly beast that's fallen behind the herd, then boil it. Vegetables are an unnecessary extravagance for a hardy nomadic folk. Plus, I think, seasoning was outlawed as unrevolutionary during Stalinist times. So Uzbek dishes are all offal-based: ostensibly comprising either udders or double chins. All the regions of Uzbekistan put their own spin on dinner time, investing an inordinate amount of effort in reparing the kinds of cuts of meat that your cat would laugh at scornfully. Thus, the pride and joy of the Jizzekh region, for example, is the incomparable, salty
Jizz. What every Uzbek family prays for when gathered round the dinner table is, however, the nation's favourite plov. Here is a recipe for plov, just like your mother used to make:

WHAT YOU WILL NEED:

1. Some form of meat・ Ask your butcher for something that died in mysterious circumstances・
2. Plov is a rice and mutton dish. Calculate the quantity of rice needed for the evening to end like the Gluttony scene from Seven. Then double it.
3. Vodka for the chef (mandatory).
4. Garnish of soggy carrot scrapings, fished out of the plug hole (optional).
5. Spices or flavouring of any description? Not for this recipe Delia!

PREPARATION:

1. Laying your pound of flesh on a chopping board, carefully cut out the leanest, most tender morsels. Throw those bits away.
2. Tenderize by dropping on the floor a few times. Any bits of fluff that get stuck on only add sophistication.
3. Heating the rice in chip oil will be much more original than doing it the old-fashioned way.
4. At this point in the cooking you will probably begin to realize the sheer scale of the cock-up you've created. Start drinking your vodka NOW.
5. Serve the whole lot on a single plate in a great steaming heap. Stand over your guests swigging vodka menacingly until they either finish it or start to cry. As they run to the toilet, cheerfully inform them that it doesn't work.

Tummy trouble

After a few days with an Uzbek family, mealtimes will start to look a bit like this:

Breakfast: garlic and pig trotter soup
Lunch: cocktail of antacid tablets and Imodium, washed down with tea that looks like crude oil.
Dinner: plov time again, is it Mother?

Now the human digestive system really is a miraculous thing. Think about it: day after day it does its duty, sifting through the inappropriate matter you shovel down to find something salvageable and nutritious, and
compacting the rejected remainder into soft, manageable pellets for easy disposal. After a particularly good clearout you congratulate yourself, with nary a thought to who the real hero is. Yet your stomach labours on.

After this much punishment, however, your well-maintained plumbing will have degenerated into a bubbling, gastric Chernobyl. Dashing from the dinner
table to the bathroom, therefore, you will not be best pleased to find that the antique lavatory hasn't flushed since Stalin, and is now a museum of mutant parasites, trapped like flies in amber in the encrusted bowl.
Time for a trip outside, then, where yet more horrors await.

A rickety shed down the street houses the communal dumping ground where bad plov comes to die. A letterbox shaped hole in the floor goes down 15 feet
to what can only be indelicately described as an enormous pile of crap. You're going to spend a good deal of time here, getting to know every knot in the timber, and striking up a decent rapport with the old woman from up the street who seems to walk past like clockwork every time the wind blows the door open. Aiming your watery bowel movements accurately from a
squatting position ought to be a training exercise for the RAF. Bonus points if you can make the turd pillar topple over by the sheer force of your own discharge. Twenty odd minutes of listening to the faint patter of
turd on turd later, thoroughly drained, its time to go for a lie down, and hope to God that everything will be alright in the morning."


Well, at least Cat and I didn't have to endure any stomach traumas quite that horrible, although we did have an encounter with the toilet in Osh that made us vow to become vegetarians forevermore (hmm, that didn't last long). The letterbox toilets are definitely a favourite out here, and I must note that in some ways at least, guys have it a lot easier than girls on that account!!

Written by Cara
(with a lot of help from Jeremy)

Our time in Kyrgyzstan (well, my time, since Cat is coming back here after our India trip) has flown by so fast and now there is only a week left! We've barely had time to write in the blog here, but we will make more of an effort in India when we resume our vagabonding ways. We fly to Delhi next Saturday morning, the 20th. Unfortunately, our schedules are so packed that we haven't had much time to do any preliminary research on what we would like to do in Delhi, so that will all be done on the spot.

Anyway, winter has definitely entrenched itself out here now. Yesterday was probably the coldest day of the year. Poor Cat was freezing at her work out at the base- most stores here are along the lines of open-air stalls with only small, portable heaters for warmth- and the North Face shop at the base is no exception.

I've decided that Kyrgyzstan at this time of the year is a combination of winter wonderland and winter nightmare. Everything is blanketed in white and it is gorgeous. The air is crisp and clear and the white mountains tower behind the Soviet buildings. Lenin points skyward from underneath a blanket of snow (the Lenin statue is ironically now right next to the American University- it was banished to this less conspicuous locale earlier this year and replaced on the main square with a statue of liberty-esque thing). Everywhere I go, I see mothers and fathers pulling their small children behind them on sleds.

This winter joyousness is directly juxtaposed with the vision of a woman sitting on the roadside, shivering beneath a plastic tarp that is draped over her like a shawl, hoping to make money from the small pile of sad-looking pickles that is vanishing under the falling snow. The work goes on and you would think this country would be equipped for winter, but it is not. All of the markets are open-air. Vendors weigh out oranges with chapped and swollen hands. Sniffling and rosy-cheeked children wander around trying to sell whatever they can get their hands on. I know that there are hundreds of street children in this town- you cannot avoid them- and I cannot imagine how they cope with the cold. I mean, we suffer because the heat isn't turned up high enough! This is another appalling problem that the Kyrgyz government must face: lack of gas to provide heat. Uzbekistan supplies Kyrgyzstan with gas, but their tyrant of a leader makes this relationship as difficult as possible. For example, now, for the first time in thirteen years Uzbekistan has demanded that Kyrgyzstan must pay entirely in cash for their gas imports. Of course, there is no way Kyrgyzstan is capable of doing this. So the Kyrgyz people will likely have to suffer from no heat right in the middle of the coldest part of winter. No wonder people still yearn for Soviet times.


written by Cara