Morocco Medley

Mountains of Olives

Ten Days in Morocco! I know, we have neglected to tell you about our past month and a half in Cameroon, sorry. Cameroon is the best, but the reality is that the internet connections are way better here, making blog entry much more possible. Here's the brief tour of our last 9 days in Morocco. We head home tomorrow, get excited!

We made it to Casablanca, albeit one bag lighter and a few days of sleep lost, and hightailed it by train to Marrakech. The contrast from Cameroon to Morocco could not have been greater - we switched from African chaos to Muslim order. We slowly let the fight to survive seep out of us and embraced our new ease of travel.

Spices

Marrakech is one of those amazing cities that absorbs tons of tourists but still retains its authenticity. The people are friendly, the food is great, and the Moroccan influence surrounds you in every tiled wall and pottery filled stall. We had a great time wandering the souks (stalls) filled with every spice, metal-work, pottery, and scarf you have ever wanted. We also hit up a traditional Hammam and got washed and massaged by a naked and slightly cross-eyed older Muslim woman.

Mint Tea and Milk Coffee

The variety of food was a welcome change. We've feasted on crepes, pizza, tajines, couscous, and washed it down with gallons of mint tea. We arrived in Morocco at the very start of Ramadan, so every day we feel just a little bit gluttonous as we gorge ourselves in front of very hungry Moroccans. It doesn't seem to bother anyone though, and they remain smiling and friendly even in the evening hours before their break fast of bread and cheese, soup, figs, and mint tea.

Rug Shopping

Rock the Kasbah

 We took a three day excursion to the desert to go see the Sahara. As cheesy as those group tours can be, it was totally worth it to see those sand dunes, straight out of National Geographic. No, our little iPod camera probably doesn't do it justice.

Small Donkey, Big Load

The first day we drove through the Atlas Mountains, stopped at various sites, and saw forts and old cities. We got to know our motley tour group and held our own as the token Americans.

Twins!

We arrived in a small desert town the second day, and from there took camels to the desert camp. Camels were fun for the first five minutes and painful for the next hour and twenty five. But the ride was beautiful and we watched the sand turn red with the setting sun. We were in the last caravan of camels and took a break at 7:30PM for our guides to break fast, so we finished the ride in the last minutes of dusk and arrived at camp in the dark.

Smiling Camel

The night in our desert camp was no luxury hotel, but it was... an experience. Dinner was delicious even if we couldn't really see it. The guides jammed on their drums and wailed some songs for a bit. Then they passed out a few ripped mats and left us to pick our spots in the sand. Sarah and I scoped out a nice sand dune outside of the camp ring, but after two scorpion sightings we scurried back to the circle. The guides made fun of us. We lay on our pads and wrapped our heads in our scarves to keep the blowing sand out of our ears.

Camel Trek

Sahara Sand Dunes

Wake-up call was at 4AM for a breakfast of bread and tea before hopping (a bit sorely) back on the camels for a sunrise return. It was sad to leave the desert but great to have a sink to wash the sand layer off our skin.

Wow

We spent another great day in Marrakech when we got back from the desert, and then headed to the beach for our last few days. We may or may not have had a weak moment at McDonald's when we returned from the desert. Sarah may or may not have been this excited to see a hamburger.

Sunset

Essouira is a beautiful seaside town. Again it manages to see millions of tourists without feeling like a Disney attraction. The streets are small and cute and filled with amazing things to buy. Morocco has not been as nice on our pocketbooks as Cameroon.

Biking in Essouira

Sarah's New Best Friend

We spent a great day yesterday biking around the area on some rickety old mountain bikes. We were treated to dinner at an overly friendly shop-keeper's house last night. In fact, it is a good thing we are leaving tomorrow or we might not survive with the number of friends we've made :).

 We love Morocco, but are super excited to return home. Can't wait to see you all!

My Morning In Court

This morning we headed to court to submit an application for two wives to claim the land and accounts of their husband who died in 2002 without a will. We arrived at court at 9AM, and did not head out until at least 1pm. I had filled out the ten page form, and had to sort through birth certificates and marriage certificates of not one but two wives of the deceased, so the form was not easy. When we sat down in front of the clerk for our first approval of the form, she did not hesitate to point out my many mistakes. No, I did not know that each time someone signs a document with a thumbprint you have to label the print!

We paid for our form submission in another room, and then brought the whole crowd - the two wives, a daughter, and two witnesses, in to the Head of Registry to approve the application. He started with a formal lecture to the family on the importance of wills. He explained how Cameroonians are afraid to write wills as they believe it is a bad sign that they will die soon. He is in charge of wills in the whole region, yet only has about 200 wills in his safe. The Head of Registry then passed around a book called 'How to Write your Own Will' that he was selling for 1000 CFA ($2.25). But it didn't stop there. He then explained to the wives that this must be hard for them, having lost their husband, and offered two more readings that might help them in this difficult time: 'How to Survive Being a Single Parent', and 'Widowhood and Menopause'.

We stayed with the family in the jovial Head of Registry's office for a while longer while Caroline whirled around getting yet more photocopies, and his attention turned to the two 'white man' in the room. He talked to us about how he would never visit the states until Americans come here and give offerings to make up for enslaving his people. He wished us good travels here, and emphasized that we should be sure to learn from the people of Cameroon, and informed us the best thing we could bring back from this country would be a handsome young husband to share!

Getting to know you

Our Dining Room

Our first week in Bamenda has been packed full of activity (but with plenty of free nights to type my blog entries, so beware this is a long one :)

Our entertainment center

 When Ashlyn and I arrived Friday evening, Roxana and James took us to our new apartment, rented to us by the local Baptist Mission. The living room/dining room is huge, so we expect lots of visitors (yes that means you)!

Friday night after dropping our belongings off we went to eat dinner with Roxana and James, our French neighbor Elphie, and another friend of theirs, Amy. I ate grilled fish and French fries, pretty delicious. Ashlyn and I once again passed out at a ridiculously early hour.

My mosquito-free bed!

Saturday was a shopping day. Roxana and James took us around the market and we got some staples for feeding ourselves. Ashlyn and I have been cooking like champions, which is impressive considering neither of us are regulars in the kitchen. If only you had seen us the first time we tried to light our gas stove! Saturday night’s meal was rice with green pepper, carrot, and mango.

The Official Belo Walk

Hiking through the greenery

Sunday we went up to Belo, a small town to the north of Bamenda. Belo has a nice walking path that an international volunteer created, and we began our walk in the sunshine and relatively cool weather. Unfortunately the markers for the path often get stolen and used for firewood, so we quickly lost the path. However, the diversion was fortuitous, as we came across an older man who was collapsed on the side of the road. Many others passed him, but no one had stopped to help. Roxana and James worked on deciphering what he was saying in Pidgin, the Cameroonian language combination of English and local dialect. Once we stopped to help others gathered around, though many were still hesitant to get involved. The man may have had a stroke, so we hailed a passing motorcycle driver and put him on it to take him home, with Roxana holding him on the bike from behind. Good deed for the day accomplished, and kudos to Roxana for jumping to action so quickly.

Just sittin there being cute

The skies looked ominous for the daily downpour, so we stopped by a local volunteer’s house for tea and chats. Afterwards we completed another portion of the trail, and then headed back for a taxi to Bamenda. In case you are concerned about all our taxi rides, most taxi rides in town are about 30 cents. Our trip 40 minutes out of town was only about $2.25.

Ashlyn in front of the office

Monday we had our first day at the office! Aide Legale Libre (ALL) for Cameroon is a small legal aid organization that provides legal services to those who can’t afford representation. The organization currently consists of a Cameroonian lawyer, Caroline, and a Volunteer Services Organization international volunteer from Britain, Roxana. Together they have gained non-profit organization status, opened an office, secured funding, and built a portfolio of about 50 cases. Pretty impressive. Our first day was intended to be a case review, but surprise client visits took over most of the day.

Pretty flower from our hike

Here is a taste of our client visits for the day: Asunkwen is a client who is a journalist and a member of the Southern Cameroon National Council (SCNC), the political group based in Bamenda that favors secession from the northern part of the country. SCNC members have faced much persecution in Cameroon, and Asunkwen spent a considerable amount of time in prison for his membership in SCNC and his political writings. ALL helped him submit a complaint to the United Nations Human Rights Council reporting the wrongful detention and the abusive conditions of detention. We met with another client, Richard, who is disabled and in a wheelchair. Richard wants to file a labor case for wrongful dismissal due to his disability. He must first submit a complaint with the labor inspector, as per Cameroon’s requirements. Another client, Joseph, had his land taken from him and has filed a case to gain the land back.

Monday night we attempted our own version of the spaghetti omelet, with spaghetti, egg, and tomato. It was a bit of a fail, but spaghetti with egg tastes great anyway.

Tuesday we reviewed cases in the morning. Ashlyn and I will be working on a bunch of cases of youth (under 18) who are in prison. These cases were recently given to ALL by the prison administrator, and some of the minors have only been incarcerated for a few weeks, while others have been there over a year. Most of their charges are for theft. There is one young boy who has been in prison for nine months for stealing a football. Both of his parents are deceased, and we think that the courts may have lost his file and thus no one has checked in on why he is still in jail. Another group of three boys were accused of stealing a pig from a local farmer, and confessed after the farmer beat them severely and threatened to burn them.

As all of these cases were given to us by the prison administrator, we must circle around to the courts to find their official charge sheets and trial date information. This task has already proved to be a challenging search, as we need to check handwritten record books for each different court room, arranged according to the approximate date the child first appeared in front of a judge. Talk about an administrative nightmare.

Tuesday afternoon was our first law clinic meeting. Every Tuesday and Thursday ALL holds a clinic for local law students to come learn about a certain topic or work on a case. The students seem really interested in learning about human rights work. They are a nice group and Ashlyn and I look forward to get to know them better. Tuesday we played a game called Werewolf with the group, where designated werewolves kill off civilians in the town, and the townspeople must hunt out the werewolves by killing off suspects. We used the game as a jumping off point to talk about jungle (mob) justice. The students discussed how once someone is accused of a crime, there is very little they can do to convince others they are not guilty, and how one outspoken person’s accusation heavily influences the rest of the group.

Tuesday night was pasta with ‘tomato sauce’, but we used tomato paste which neither Ashlyn nor I have much experience with… another botched pasta attempt, this one not quite as tasty as the last.

Wednesday was court day! We dressed up in our suits (most days are just ‘look smart’ days, but court requires a suit). As we found out later that day, there are some who didn’t approve of our pants suits. A lawyer stopped us in the (outdoor) hallway to the court, and asked Caroline why the two white ladies were wearing pants. All of the other women wear skirt suits, except Roxana who has tried to challenge the trend of trying to kick women in pants out of the courtroom. Nobody kicked us out of anywhere, but we will probably wear skirts next time, just in case. We also had an interaction with another difficult lawyer. He seemed nice at first, but we soon realized he is the lawyer who is threatening to take Caroline and Roxana to court for child trafficking. Roxana is caring for, and hopes to adopt, an adorable five year old girl named Princess that was abandoned by her family. He derisively calls Caroline “Human Rights”, as in “Hey you, Human Rights, you think you can just step in and change things?”

Judge attire in Cameroon

Most of the day we went around to different judges, magistrates, and other officials for introductions at both the Court of First Instance and the Court of Appeals. Introductions seem especially important to the Cameroonians, as we learned during our visit to the Court of Appeals. Caroline had a scheduling matter to present at the Court of Appeals, and as the three judges had already taken their seats up front when we arrived, she quickly donned her black robe and wig and directed us to a side bench to sit while she joined the other lawyers at a front table. [Yes, both judges and lawyers must be dressed in the traditional black robe, white collar, and (conspicuously blonde) wig when presenting at the Court of Appeals. Judges have additional decorations. It is quite a sight.] However, after we sat for a moment, the three judges noticed us and made a comment to the lawyers. Caroline spoke up on our behalf, but the judges continued to speak and soon enough Caroline got up and motioned for us to follow her out. Apparently the judges did not want us in the room if we had not first met the President of the Court of Appeals. Caroline explained that we could be from a whistle-blower international organization, there to record any shortcomings of the Cameroonian courts and expose them to the world. White people listening in on official government proceedings was never a good thing in the eyes of these judges.

Wednesday night we went to a live concert! We heard Kareyce Fotso, a well-known Cameroonian solo artist with a gorgeous voice. Kareyce played guitar, drums, and other local instruments while dancing and singing. She also had a magnetic personality that the audience seemed to love, and they went on stage continuously to put money on her head and kiss her cheek while she played. At one point Kareyce took a poll of the audience to see who was in favor of polygamy and who was against (polygamy is a common practice in much of Cameroon). As far as I could tell the results were about 50/50, though it was too dark to tally the gender breakdown of opinions. Kareyce made many other jokes that the audience loved, but she spoke mostly in French so we had a tough time following. 

Thursday was a holiday (at least for the Christians) in Cameroon – Ascension Day, when Jesus went up to heaven. We didn’t see much celebrating going on, besides for Caroline going to Church most of the day. We got down to the office early because apparently taxis stop running for the morning. We were meant to head down to the market to help a youth environmental group do a river clean-up, but we had a surprise potential client visit that delayed us and we missed the cleaning portion. (After seeing the riverbed they were cleaning, I can’t say I’m too sad about missing it…). The potential client was another SCNC member, and he had lived in Japan for a few years and applied for political asylum there. He was detained in Japan for nine months as his case was being processed, and eventually he came back to Cameroon because he could not take any more time in jail. Unfortunately we could not do much to change the Japanese asylum process, and many other countries have similar practices.

We arrived at the clean-up day as they were cleaning up (hehe), and chatted with some of the participants. One was a recent law school graduate who was just joining the ALL law clinic, Tsenghor. Ashlyn and I decided to take advantage of being down at the market to fill out our supplies, and Tsenghor spent the next few hours helping us get non-white man prices at the market. (Have I mentioned yet that all foreigners are ‘white man’ according to Cameroonians? It does not matter if you are female, if you are of a different ethnicity, or even if you are more than one person, you will still be called ‘white man’.) We headed back to the office for law clinic in the afternoon. During this clinic we assigned specific minor prisoner cases to each of the students, so that Ashlyn and I have local student partners to work with on each case. When we go on jail visits we will be accompanied by the student so that they can translate from Pidgin into English.

Thursday night we cooked black beans and rice. Our new supply of spices really helped out the meal.

The Mayor of Bamenda

Friday we headed back to the Court of First Instance to represent a woman who was pressing charges against her husband for accusing her of being a prostitute, kicking her out of the house, and otherwise abandoning his husbandly duties. We also spent a good deal of time trying to track down prisoner charge sheets, but realized we needed a more organized search system, so headed back to the office to create a proper spreadsheet.

Caroline and Melissa cooking

Ashlyn and I left around 3pm to attend a lecture given by the Mayor of Bamenda on decentralization. It was a small gathering of westerners and Cameroonians, and the Cameroonians led the Q&A in asking all about governmental plans to decentralize different ministries, and how much power the mayor now has in various areas. It was an interesting and lively discussion. Afterwards we met a few other volunteers at the International Hotel for dinner and drinks.

Spare chicken parts

Saturday we had a lunch party with Roxana, James, Caroline, her daughter Melissa, and Princess. Roxana and James had a chicken they had received as a gift, and Saturday was slaughter day. Caroline cooked up lots of other food as well – she was particularly nervous about having enough to feed Ashlyn, who is a vegetarian. Ashlyn and I perfected our

Roxana chopping and Princess helping

black beans for the occasion (and made so many of them we will be feasting on black beans for the next week), guacamole (they have the most amazing avocados here), and sangria with fresh pineapple and mango. We had a great time listening to James play guitar, chatting with Caroline about her family, and playing with Princess. The sad news is James has to leave Cameroon this week,as he got an unexpected job interview. So the gathering served as a goodbye party as  well.

Arli and Princess bonding

Saturday night was game night with some volunteers and some Cameroonians. We played dictionary, where you make up definitions you think might fit a word. The cultural gap between the various countries represented added a special twist to the game. We also told some jokes and riddles. What is a name made up of two four-letter words – the first word a child hates to hear and the second word a child loves to hear. Give up? BEAT-RICE. Don’t worry, I didn’t guess it either.

Which brings us to today! Ashlyn and I spent the morning on home improvement. It’s amazing the furniture you can create out of stacked boxes and random pieces of wood. Then we went for a great walk through Bamenda. Once we split off of the busy, honking, craziness of the main streets, we discovered the real Bamenda – rough dirt roads, kids playing jump rope, laundry flapping, and greenery everywhere. We didn’t take our cameras on this walk, but next time we will do a Bamenda city life series of photographs.

Miss you all, drop me a note when you get a chance!

The Journey Over

Off to Cameroon!! On May 24^th I left for the summer, and I will be followed by Sarah in a few weeks. After a tasty last lunch in the United States with my grandparents, my brother dropped me off at JFK around 4pm for the first leg of my journey. My flight to Casablanca was on Royal Air Maroc, though nothing about the airline struck me as particularly royal. I made friends with my seat-mate, Anniessa, and chatting with her helped pass the long time between take-off and our first airline meal. Anniessa’s dad was already in Casablanca and her grandparents live there, so she suggested I chat with her father to get some tips on where to go during my 14 hours in the city. Sleeping on the plane was only mildly successful, and I was thrilled when we finally landed at 7AM. After some confusion as to whether my baggage was actually checked all the way through, we made our next friend, Nate, who also had an all-day layover.

Cute kids and delicious snacks

Anniessa introduced us both to her dad, Rafiq, who works for the U.S. Army doing cultural sensitivity training. Her dad immediately offered to drive us in to the city, and take us to their grandparents house for tea and snacks. He was incredibly friendly, and seemed to know or chat with everyone in the airport and on the streets. The grandparent’s apartment was quite impressive, with a Moroccan-style sitting room in one half and a Western-style dining room on the other. They adopted an orphan recently, Oumnia, who was the sweetest thing and immediately came over to sit in my lap. Rafiq warned us ahead of time that grandpa is rather grumpy, and indeed after he greeted us hello he retreated to the rest of the house. Grandma proceeded to bring out juices, delicious fresh peppermint tea, cookies, and pancakes with honey, jam, and cheese to spread on them. Heavenly.

Rafiq had a quick dentist appointment that we all walked to, and then he took us on the bus downtown. He showed us around the medina (the marketplace) and warned us not to get lost, and showed us a central sculpture that he refers to as ‘the pimple of Casablanca’.

My New Friends with 'The Pimple'

Then he walked us to the train station where we needed to catch a train back to the airport that evening, and helped us buy tickets. Nate and I bid farewell to our wonderful tour guides around mid-day. We went to a café to relax, get out of the sun, and hydrate. Then made our way back in to the medina, where we wandered narrow alleys for a while, looking at all the goods for sale, getting harassed by salesman, and smelling all sorts of scents.

Small Arli, Giant Mosque

After the medina we headed over the Giant Mosque, which was true to its name. I wandered down a flight of steps to the side of the mosque into the women’s washroom, where women come to wash themselves before their five daily prayers. I met a nice girl who showed me around and explained that the Jews and the Muslims are like brother and sister here in Casablanca, they just want love and peace. We continued our cab ride to another marketplace, and unfortunately got a bit ripped off on the ride, but so it goes on your first day in another country. Then we high-tailed it back to the train station to catch a 5:30PM train back to the airport. By that time we were both having trouble keeping our eyes open to watch for our stop because we were so tired.

My flight from Casablanca to Douala, Cameroon left at 9:30PM, and I slept whenever the flight attendants were not bothering me for a meal until we landed at 3AM. I got a nice Cameroonian man to help me get a good exchange rate at the airport (450 Francs for $1), and crossed my fingers that there would be a taxi driver, Seraphin, with my name on a piece of paper when I exited the building, as arranged by my organization. He was indeed there, though we couldn’t communicate much because he spoke mostly French. We made it to the Baptist Mission at 4AM, where I had a reservation for the following night. However, the night guard did not have the key to the office, and so there was nowhere for me to wait inside. Seraphine decided we must wait in the taxi, as there were too many mosquitos outside. He reclined his seat and promptly fell asleep, while I lay awake sweating in the hot car and listening to the mosquitos enter the car through his open window. I was thrilled when the first signs of daylight peeked through the trees, and even more thrilled when people finally began to emerge from their rooms. I paid Seraphine extra before sending him off, and yes it would have been worth it to rent a room for my arrival night.

The mission served breakfast at 7AM, and after some tea and eggs I felt slightly more human, though still incredibly dirty. I made friends with a Canadian family that had just spent a month travelling in Cameroon. The father, Marvin, grew up as a missionary kid in Bamenda, and took his family there to show them the sights. He gave me plenty of tips on living in Bamenda and surviving Cameroon. I finally got a room around 11AM, and slept for an hour and a half before heading back to the airport in a taxi to meet my classmate Ashlyn. I had a communication failure while buying a SIM card to use for calls in Cameroon, and ended up spending much more than I wanted to and getting very frustrated, but it worked out fine and the credit on my phone should last a good while.

Ashlyn’s flight landed a bit late, and we fought our way out of the airport refusing offers to help us with bags or show us to a luxury taxi, and made it to a yellow taxi with a small crowd following us to ‘help’. Douala airport seems to have a bit of a reputation for being pushy. We hung around the mission for a while and checked communications, and then ventured out into the streets for supplies. We got fruit and pastries for the bus the next day, and ended up eating half of them for dinner because it started to get dark and we could not find a cheap place to eat. We lay down to read around 8PM and were sound asleep not long after.

Gospel entertainment on the bus

The next morning we caught a taxi to the bus station at 7AM, grabbed our bus tickets, and went to a little snack shop for breakfast. We both had our first spaghetti omelets, a popular dish here of spaghetti mixed with egg with tomato and other seasonings. I love it. We met a nice older white business man who told us lots about Cameroonians, and when we asked where he was from he replied ‘from earth’. The bus finally took off around 10:30AM, and almost immediately a woman stood up at the front and began to preach. She was a gospel singer, and got all of the bus singing and clapping along with her. After a lot of talk about Jesus, she moved on to talk about her new CD, which sold quite well amongst the passengers, then her soap, which miraculously removes all skin problems. We had another salesman come on later in the ride, and we bought his candies that help you piss out any impurities. Everybody on the bus loved those.

We had a bit of a mishap over the lunch stop, when our new Cameroonian friend had us sit down with him to eat grilled plantains and meat, and grilled sour plum. We were not aware that the break was a strict 15 minutes, and were just starting our bathroom trip when we spotted the rest of the bus filled with passengers and ready to take off! We got some glares as we rushed to our seats in the back of the bus. All things considered the bus ride was quite pleasant, not too bumpy and great scenery. We arrived safely in Bamenda¸ greeted by Roxana and James, our wonderful work colleagues and guides to how to survive life in Cameroon. Roxana and James are from Britain and have been working with ALL for Cameroon, the legal aid organization where we will be working.

Updates to come soon from my first few days in Bamenda and work at the legal aid organization!

Home Again Home Again Jiggity Jig

Hi Friends!

First we owe you an apology - we fell off the blog wagon for our last month of adventures. Call it travel fatigue, call it technology frustration, mostly we're just sorry we left you hanging.

We are back in the good ole US of A! It's great to be back, despite the fact that our travel hours logged since our return seem to have increased instead of decreased, and we are still living off the same set of tired summer clothes out of a bag.

At some point I would love to sit down and pen our last few weeks of wanderings. For now, I'll just pass on the link to some great Rajasthan pictures. My parents joined us for 10 days of a circuit tour of the hottest desert region of India. By our side they experienced the beauty of many forts and palaces, the aggravation of many touts bothering them to give money/buy silk/come to their shop, and the shock of a vacation for the most part devoid of meat and alcohol. We visited waterless lakes, saw the Taj Mahal, went on a tiger safari, and developed a new language with our buddy and faithful driver, Vinood. You can check out my dad's pro pictures here:

Rajasthan Pictures (http://picasaweb.google.com/kaarechristian/INDIA2010?authkey=Gv1sRgCKzW4cu4mfj77AE&feat=directlink#)

We're so excited to be back on the same soil as all our pals :)

This Old Beach

Well children, it's been awhile since I've penned my own post here at sarahandarliadventures.com. I'm a lazy blogger, what can I say. Arli is the motivated one, the 110-degree heat and constant blackouts here in Inde haven't slowed her down a bit.

So I'm here to write some belated prose regarding our "vacation" week on the island paradise that is Ko Pha-Ngan, off the southeastern coast of Thailand (oh how we mis you, Thailand!). We had a hell of a week on the little limestone mount of Ko Pha-Ngan, which is primarily known for the wacked-out Full Moon Parties (and Half Moon parties, and Black Moon, and Shiva Moon, and...), drugs, hippies, and a general party atmosphere. Oh yeah, and excellent beaches. Just a note: most of the phtos here are stolen from teh internet. I don't have access to our flash drive at the moment, so I'll do my best.

Our journey to the Ko began on a lovely bus from Bangkok. Small aside...we decided so late in the game that we wanted to go to Ko Phangan that all the trains AND buses were sold out the day we tried to make reservations. So we spent an extra day in Bangkok, and visited the Chatuchak market, also known as JJ Market.

Holy. Shit. Guys, if you think Angkor Wat blew my brain out, well, JJ blew my brain out TWICE. Talk about some serious onion-ing. That place is a nutfarm of shopping. It is a shopping mecca about the size of 257 football fields, where you can buy anything from preserved rat feet to ice cream on buns to old sneakers to baby squirrels. It's a miracle we made it out alive. We had an amazing afternoon, where even Arli got into the shopping spirit and blew several hundred baht on some wicked cool shared clothing.

The coolest photo I could find of Chatuchak- and quite appropriate, I believe. Side note- we went back again the next weekend...

Anyway, with our loads considerably heavier, it was on to the bus station to get to the Ko. It was an overnight bus, one of those posh double-decker, airbrushed affairs with blue LED undercarriage lighting. Upon arrival at the dock aproximately 11 hours later, a nice young man approached us and sold us on a night at his bungalows at Ao Srithanu (Ao means "bay". I think.) on the Ko. Since we didn't really know where we wanted to stay (just that we DIDN'T want to stay in Haad Rin, the center of all the partying), it was fine with us to make the commitment.

The place was called Laem Son (known to us as Lame Son the rest of the week), and we arrived there later on that morning after an exquisitely boring ferry ride. Well, well. To put it bluntly, folks, this place is the balls. A beautiful, quiet stretch of white sand and clear blue water to call our own. Yow. They showed us to our little bungalow, we said hi to the ants, and hopped into our swimmies and ran out the door to the beach. Ah yes. We had all sorts of grand plans for the week, but the sight of this slice of the heaven pie made us abandon most of them.

I nabbed this from some other blog, hence the sunset as opposed to daytime view. Nabbers can't be choosers.

The first day we just lazed around, swimming and sunning and eating panang curry. Later that night, we discovered that the beach is also perfect for heart-melting sunsets (see above). Sigh. We watched the sun disappear over a coldish beer at the Three Monkeys Bar at the end of the beach, the local hippie hangout. We watched several sunsets from there, and made lots of weird and wonderful friends.

The next day, as usual, was full of plans to do something or other, but we ended up hanging out with Tip the tattooer and his sweet Brit girlfriend at Bamboo Tattoo, and getting our first tattoos, traditional Thai bamboo style. They hurt a little, but the great thing about bamboo is that it doesn't bleed at all- no scab, so we could go swimming the next day. Nice! Here is a cheesy picture of mine that I sent to Mum n Dad, you'll have to wait for a picture of Arli's until we unpack the flash drive someday.

Welcome to the densely populated world of the tattooed! It's a racing pig. Dad-o made me a keychain just like it when I was a wee one, so it's special to me. Oh the tattoo with a secial meaning....Tip wanted to make it all tribal-y looking, but I was like, nope just that please.

So anyhow- the next few days were full of same-same swimming and lazing about. We did some sub-par snorkeling at the northern tip of the island, rented a motorbike and got lost several times, ate some mexican food, drank lots of beer with our new pals (howdy Eddie!), played with puppies, fought gigantic bugs, and generally chilled out. One night (the night of Half-Moon party, incidentally) we spent down in Haad-Rin, expanding our minds and observing the generally crazy and delightfully colorful atmosphere. One thing we refrained from that night was the consumption of one of these:

Ah, the bucket. A can of Coke, bottle of vodka, and bottle of M-150 (aka, Redbull). And some ice. They were selling these everywhere, with creative names such as "F**king Cheap Bucket" and "F**king Good Bucket". I'll stick to my shakes, thank you very much. We shared a truck back to the bungalow with some Half Moon partiers who looked like they'd had quite enough partying already, thank you very much, at the relatively early hour of 10PM. Shared our stories with Eddy over a beer, and got on to bed.

Our last full day on the island was spent on a boat tour of Ang Thong Marine National Park. We actually did some worthwhile snorkeling (who knew how much cooler LIVE coral was than DEAD coral!!), swam on a few lightly populated beaches, and got scared off a hiking trail by a band of maurading, rabid monkeys. I hate monkeys.

Not much else to report on our vacation week- it was the perfect break from our trip- just what we needed before we decended on India, which has been "incredible" (as the advertisements boast), but far from vacation-like, however. Ko Phanagan gets our vote for "Place Most Likely To Host a Sarah and Arli Mid-Life Crisis Bar Ownership On a Beach". As long as there are laws to be broken, and amputated limbs to be mended, we could very well end up there some day....

Anywho- back to the paneer. Ms. Arli will be updating you shortly on what we've been getting up to in Darjeeling and Varanasi. Namaste!

Transformations and Reincarnations

More updates for you! We have temporarily skipped over our beautiful stay in the mountain town of Darjeeling to bring you fresher news - the past four days in Varanasi! Again I will narrate for you through pictures, as going through each of our days would take the rest of my trip, and besides you all need to get back to work soon and stop goofing around reading our blog!

We survived a long train journey to get to Varanasi, aided by several mud cups of "chai, chai, chai". These got tossed out the moving train's window. Fun!

We downgraded to sleeper car, the non-air conditioned, more crowded method of travel. The insides of our lungs got a nice coating of soot by morning, but otherwise our sleeping platforms suited us just fine.

A shout-out to all the nice Indian families who helped us through the journey. We always have helpers around, whether it is a family waiting to translate the announcement for which platform our train is arriving on, a young girl who helped me jump off at a stop to buy vegetarian briyani, or a crowd of men who literally chased away a sketchy old man who was paying us too much attention in the station. Thank you all!

We spent many hours looking at towns like this one fly by the train window.



After haggling with the auto-rickshaw drivers who only want to take you to hotels that give them commission, we finally arrived at one very dirty but nicely air conditioned room. (There is a heat wave in India currently, the hottest temperatures they've had in eight years, so we splurged on our first AC room since Laos.) I won't lie, we spent a good few hours of our first day doing our laundry, cleaning the bathroom floor, and even scrubbing some walls in that place. It looks great now, you're welcome next guest.

Varanasi immediately stole our hearts. For those of you non-Hindu's, it is one of the holiest cities in India. There are religious activities going on any which way you look, and especially along the very holy, if very polluted, Ganges river. We woke up at dawn one morning to take a boat ride along the river and see the sites. Besides for some of the coolest breezes we've felt here, we saw the bustle of early morning on the Ganges. Hoards of people come to bathe in the river.


Bathing is not simply to clean themselves, but is part of a religious ritual. After bathing they go up to temples and shrines located by the riverside for prayer.

Here is a father and son looking out on the activities of the river in the morning.


Nighttime is also a busy time along the Ganges. There are nightly religious ceremonies performed, and you cannot help but to run into some prayer, music or dancing going on.

And now a non picture-filled interlude, for there is an important part of Varanasi life that cannot be photographed. Varanasi is particularly holy because if you die here, according to Hindu beliefs, you achieve moksha, an escape from the cycle of reincarnation. Anyone who is able to bring their loved one to Varanasi for their funeral does so. Bodies are cremated along the river, in huge bonfires. Onlookers are invited to walk right up to these bonfires, see the torsos of the bodies sticking out from the fire, and watch as flesh melts away from their faces. It is a haunting experience. We learned so many interesting facts about the cremations - how much wood it takes to burn a body (250 kilos), how the first son of the deceased must light the fire and once he leaves the body he cannot look back so the spirit of that body does not follow him, how a man's chest and a woman's hip do not burn and are deposited into the Ganges, how Shiva makes sure that even through a rainstorm the fires will still burn, and much more. We returned a few times to observe this fascinating ritual, though could never stay for too long before our eyes started to burn from smoke.

The streets and alleys of Varanasi provided us with days more of entertainment. There was always some excitement going on. Here I am looking very excited.

The first thing you notice about the city is that it is overrun by several different factions - humans, of course, but mixed in are water buffalo herds, wandering cows, trash-eating goats, friendly dogs, and mischievous monkeys. We could put together a whole album of our animal shots, they are too funny.

As usual we did our share of baby stalking. We were haunted by the dark eye makeup applied to some small children, supposedly so that others cannot look into their eyes and steal their souls.

Sarah and I also worked on perfect our 'India chic' style here. After a few shopping trips we are now starting to blend in more, resulting in somewhat fewer stares and unwanted attention.

Speaking of shopping, that has been another favorite activity of ours. Great cheap clothing here! The shopkeepers are excellent salesman, and can lure even tough nuts like Sarah and I in to their stores to buy goods we didn't even know we wanted...

But we refrained from entering this shop shown below, which sells some things you just don't want to have on your bed.

Yes, the streets of Varanasi kept us quite entertained. We tried to capture some of the chaos of a bicycle rickshaw ride in the video clip below. Tonight we head out to Khajuraho, and then on to the Taj Mahal! Until soon.