An act of kindness
In September 2003, I was travelling in Northern India with my parents. We saw abject poverty in much of the rural areas. We gave out food, change, pens to people all along the way with one exception.
We were unable to buy first class tickets for the train journey from Agra to Jaipur. We had to ride in a non-AC car with the locals one hot afternoon. It was 42 degrees Celsius in the shade, and we had finished drinking our last bottle of water when a local man got on the train from a village stop. One of the empty bottles was sitting at my mother’s side on the hard wooden seat. This elderly man in tattered clothes sat opposite to us, and he kept staring at my mother’s thigh. She got very worried that the man would rape or rob her because of his long stares. She almost sat on my lap. As the train was pulling into the next station, the man got up and motioned me to give him the bottle. He jumped off the train. When he returned, he handed my mother a bottle full of yellowish water.
As I figured out later, he was concerned that my mother looked extremely dehydrated. He wanted to get some water from the station tap using the empty bottle. We (North Americans) consider ourselves as civilized and refined people. Yet we have to be reminded constantly how to be kind and compassionate towards others. Do we really know how to live in the moment, be truly mindful of our surroundings, and be aware of other people's needs?
On the way to Marymana (Mother Mary's last house before her
assumption) - April 2004
My next stop was Virgin Mary's house in the hills after Ephesus.
I was told by my host at the guesthouse that I should be able to take a
taxi up there for less than $20 USD. The taxi drivers would not take me
there for less than $40 USD one way. One of them told me to wait for 2 more
tourists to share the cost of the ride.
I waited for half hour and there was no other independent
traveler. It was 2 pm and I knew I had to get going. I started walking and the
taxi driver scared me by saying that there are a lot of wild dogs in the
bushes and I would be eaten up by wild animals. I pretended I could not hear
them and hiked up the hills for 6 miles. Giant tour buses went by. Even
though I did not look up, I could sense curious stares from the passengers on
these buses.
While hiking, I prayed to God and Virgin Mary for protection.
There were trees that provided shade for me pretty much the whole way. I was
not too dehydrated after the 1.5 hr hike. To my surprise, admission was only
$2.50 USD since I entered the premises on foot. If I had come by a vehicle, it
would have been $15 USD for admission. So things really worked out money-wise.
I only had a 0.5 litre bottle and a can of pop that
whole time. Outside Maryemana (Mary's House) were many fountains and I had
all the natural spring water that I could drink before I started back.
Half way down the hills, a Muslim couple driving a Mercedes Benz
stopped. The wife got off the car and invited me to get into the back of the
car with her. They took me back to the exit side of Ephesus.
Normally re-entry is not allowed. I explained to the
guards that I needed to take the minibus at the other side. They let me in
and I got to see Ephesus in both directions and dramatically different lights
that normal tourists would not experience. How
much blessed and loved could I be!
Silk Road - Northern Route, August 2005
I arrived in Kashgar this morning, safe and sound. The bus ride from Yining to Korla got to be one of the worst bus rides in my memory. It reminded me so much of the time we were travelling in the Himalayan Mountains after a rainfall. It took a whooping 23 hours for a distance of 750 kms. I thought I would stay overnight in Korla but I did not because I saw everything in an afternoon. It is a lot like Las Vegas. High rises in the middle of vast barren land. Surprisingly, it must have at least 1 million in population.
The roads from Korla to Kashgar are much nicer; however, the bus was pretty run down and broke down at least ten times, especially near the end of the journey. It took 20 hours for 1001 kms. Kashgar appears to be more modern than I imagine. I took a mini tour this afternoon and would explore some more tomorrow. Depending whether the travel agent can get me a train ticket to Urumqi on Saturday, I might be flying back late to Urumqi Sunday night.
Waving down a bus outside the Atacama Desert in South America
2007
After 24 hours of non-stop
travelling on buses, I have arrived in the beautiful city of Salta in
Argentina. I will be taking a flight from Salta to Buenos Aires tomorrow night.
Will be spending 2 days there then flying off to the infamous Iguazu Falls.
I must say that during
this past week I have experienced numerous miracles. First, I got detoured in
Puno and avoided serious civil unrest in Bolivia. Then I was able to reroute
via Chile. When I arrived at a border town in Chile at 2 am in
the morning, I had no Chilean money and the hostel took me in without
questions. The miraculous part was that I was able to walk to the hostel from
the bus terminal without problems. You see, the bus terminal did not open 24
hours a day and there were a number of homeless people staking the terminal.
Petty theft is common according to the Lonely Planet guide.
The very next morning,
with less than 5 hours of sleep, I was urged by my host to check with all bus
companies to find a way to get out of Arica because the international services
are infrequent. I got lucky because I went to a very kind and smart agent at
Geminis. He told me to check with another international service bus company.
Both men checked and there was not one single seat. Then the Geminis agent went
to a national service bus company and arranged for me to go to San Pedro de
Atacama, a small town near the Chile/Argentina border. He said if I waved down
a bus on the highway, and begged really hard, I might be to get on a bus to
Salta or the nearby city, Jujuy.
I went back to the
hostel and told other tourists. They all thought that it was outrageous. I
rested a bit more and had a visit of the town centre. When I returned to the
hostal after my extreme sightseeing in Arica, my host suggested that I might
even try to hitchhiking, especially with a truck driver. When I was at the bus
terminal waiting for my bus to San Pedro, some passengers told me that there
was a 7.9 earthquake off the coast of Arica 2 days ago. Fortunately there were
no substantial property damages and no human loss.
After a pretty rough
night on the bus, I arrived in San Pedro at 9:50 am. We had to get off the bus
twice during the night at 2 control points for drug trafficking. It was
freezing cold outside even we were travelling the desert region of Chile. I did
what the kind man told me to do. I waved down a bus and the driver was very
sympathetic. I got on an international bus without having to plead with the
driver too much.
I sat with local
people for all my bus trips and managed to talk to them through hand gestures
and words common to both English and Spanish. I have not met one that is mean
to me whereas many of the tourists have this superior attitude over the locals
especially with the indigenous people. My local neighbors always tried to
help me along the way even though I did not understand them half of the time. I
feel very blessed indeed. I must get going now because I think siesta time is
over and the stores and offices are opening up again. I got to confirm my
flights with the airline office.
From Cuzco to La Paz today...in 2007
I have seen one of the
New Seven Wonders of the World yesterday. Machu Picchu is indeed very wondrous.
I made friends with half a dozen birds and one persistent alpaca who followed
me to the exit. I don’t normally take more than two pics of one
thing but I have four pics of him or her. I finally had to say to my amigo at the
exit, "Baby, I can’t take you home with me because you don’t have a bus
ticket to go down to the train station." We were both heart broken and
parted with our heads down.
As I suffer serious
Acute Mountain Sickness, I could only join an old folks´ tour. I took the train
and bus to Machu Picchu. There was a guide who did a 2 hour tour of the site. Afterwards
we have about 2 hours of free time. I was sitting down to have a sandwich and
chocolate milk which I had been carrying all that way. Then I noticed some
birds singing around me. I threw out a couple peanuts and more came. I had a
choir of birds singing around me while having lunch at Machu Picchu. It just
could not be any more magical than that!
At the end of the day
sightseeing in Cuzco, a native woman came up to me with a shopping bag full of
sweaters. She told me that they are alpaca sweaters. After some bargaining, I
bought one XL sweater from her. It is a perfect fit and the more important
thing is that it will keep me warm at the next high place that I visit - La
Paz. My amigo at the hostel confirmed that it is llama hair.
Passionate
People and Surreal Landscape of Jordan - Nov 19, 2008
Believe it or not, my
wait at the Port of Nuweiba was over 10 hours. When I got to the other shore,
it was past 11 p.m. During the unbearably long wait, I acquired
husband #9. He is a travelling businessman from Aleppo, Syria. Even though
there was a younger oriental woman, who spoke Arabic, in the group, I was the
chosen one. Julia, my competition, is a Taiwanese student who has been studying
Arabic in Cairo for the past 2 years. Julia told me that before I arrived
in the waiting area, she was the centre of attention. But seriously
though, Julia is actually on a love mission to get a visa to go to Jordan
for her Egyptian boyfriend. Ah, the things that a woman in love does for amour.
Aqaba is much, much
cleaner than any of the port cities in Egypt. King Hussein Highway is
incredibly well maintained. The prices in Aqaba are lower than that of the
cities in Egypt. Jordanians love their king, so much so that there are pictures
of him everywhere.
As I was trying to
find a restaurant that serves breakfast at 8:30 a.m. this morning, an elderly
man approached me and asked if he could help me with anything. I said
"breakfast" and he invited me to have coffee with him at his jewelry
store. Imagine if I had accepted his invite, I would have husband #10 by
now. Well, the logical side of me instead chose to sit in a minibus heading for
Petra for an hour for it to get full.
I wish I did not spend
so much time in Egypt. I had no choice but to skip Wadi Rum. As we were
driving past Wadi Rum, the landscape outside the window was incredibly surreal. I prayed that there will be peace in the Middle East in the near
future, and I can visit Iran, Iraq and Lebanon with a stopover in Jordan.
Hopefully I will be able to meet my Prince of Arabia next time.
Tomorrow is my big day
in Petra so I will try to rest up now. I haven't been walking for many days and
my feet are quite healed. I should be able to explore the Rose City on foot for
10 hours.
Reporting from Wadi
Musa (Moses' Valley) outside Petra...
On
the Road to Damascus, Syria - November 2008
I
just had the biggest meal I have had in weeks since I left Vancouver 3 weeks
ago. To indulge in the Syrian pastime of eating is effortless; however, the
aftermath could result in the consumption of a handful of Tums. Syrian cuisine
is definitely the best among the Middle Eastern countries.
The
Syrian fatteh is rather different from the fatta in Aswan, Egypt. Syrian chefs
marinate meats before cooking and this makes such a big difference. I also had
shish tawouk which is chicken shish kebab - the best that I ever ate.
Enough
about food, let me tell you what happened this morning. I went to the Old City
today with the hope of re-creating the scene of how Saul, the Christian
prosecutor converted into Paul, the most influential evangelist in the
Christian church history. Well, I did not accomplish what I set out to do.
First, I could not get into the Umayyad Mosque. Then I got lost trying to find
the "Straight Street" in the Old City.
Don't
let the name of Straight Street fool you. The streets here are
anything but straight. One wrong turn you will be walking in the
totally wrong direction. Well, the good thing is that I wandered into an area
that is hardly visited by foreigners. I believe it is a wholesale market.
I
bought myself a beautiful "sheesha", water pipe for smoking fruit
favoured tobacco. I picked the different parts to be assembled together.
It has to be the most gorgeous sheesha that I have ever set my eyes on. I
bought it from a shop looked after by 3 young men. The oldest one could not be
more than 20 years old. The other two boys appear to be brothers who
are about 10 and 12. The whole experience was very enjoyable even though we did
not know each other's language.
Back
to Paul the evangelist...Supposedly he was imprisoned in a jail near a city
gate of Old Damascus. His companions lowered him to ground level in a basket to
make an escape. St. Paul's chapel, which I did not find, marks the spot where
the event took place. By following a group of French tourists, I nevertheless
managed to see St. Ananais house. Sometimes tourist groups could be useful that
way.
I
was extremely tired by the time I finished being lost in the Old City. I ate,
then crashed into my bed and did not wake up until 6:30 pm. I located the
museum on my way to the restaurant and will visit it tomorrow morning before
taking a bus to Palmyra because most of the artefacts from Palmyra are
actually displayed in the National Museum in Damascus.
As-salamu alaykum
Eggs a la head in Porto, Portugal - September 2009
Greetings from Porto,
Portugal It is 6:30 am and very dark outside. The sun does not rise for another
45 minutes. I am sending this email from my little netbook, lying in bed.
I totally adore my netbook even though I carried it the whole day yesterday, my
shoulders are still good as new.
I had the most amazing
day yesterday. As always, I got lost while visiting the old city of Porto.
However, this time I was not alone. A young man from Sweden was asking for
directions from the locals who were sitting on their doorsteps, drunk and/or
stoned on a warm Saturday afternoon. Before I know it, Fabian and I were
travelling together.
Before I get any
further with my narrative, I must make a confession. I did not expect this
trip to be an eye-opening one. Was I ever wrong in assuming this! I am
once again educated by my travels. For instance, now I know the Portuguese
version of Benedict is Bento. English words now make sense to me and I am
very persuaded to study Latin. I am also intrigued by the Portuguese tiled
walls. They totally removed my pre-conceived notion that tiles, especially
painted porcelain tiles can only be found in bathrooms or kitchens.
While walking down to
the river bank, I stopped to look at the map under the bridge, Ponte Dom Luis I
(designed by Gustavo Eiffel). I got hit by an egg. At first I thought those
darned sea gulls pooh on my clean black T-shirt. I let out a loud cry and
wanted to return to the guesthouse. Some lady who was going to hang her laundry
to dry, gave me a freshly washed towel to wipe myself. Another lady came out to
wipe me. Fabian was going to take me back to the water tap that we were
drinking from. You see the egg cracked right on top of my head. My face and
hair were covered with the sticky stuff. Thankfully the temperature was not too
high or else there would have been scrambled eggs a la head. Well, the sea
gulls gave me the best hair conditioner that I could ever hope for.
Driven by the idea of
having a fish dinner by the sea, we ventured out to the mouth of the river. We
were wandering in the city centre right by the sea. Almost all the stores were
closed except for SPAR and Inter-Marche. According to Fabian, SPAR is the
largest supermarket chain in Scandanavia. Inter-Marche is a French owned
supermarket.. None of the local stores was open. We were about to give up the
idea of having a seafood dinner at around 6:30 pm. Then I got a glimpse of the
Atlantic Ocean in between the buildings. I wanted to watch the sunset from the
most western point in continental Europe. When it got chilly, we got up and
started walking towards the bus stop. The restaurants opened and the BBQ on the
sidewalks were warming up outside the restaurants...
I had grilled
bacalhlau (I think rock cod) for dinner. Of course, I had Port wine which is
the best red wine that I have ever tasted. What would an authentic Portuguese
dinner be without a chocolate mousse tart? The best part is that the cost of
this dinner is only 15 Euros.. No wonder there are so many British and French
tourists here.
This is a long email
because I might not be able to write in 1 -2 days. Don't worry about me. I
feel safe and I know I am protected by at least 4 guardian angels
surrounding me everywhere I go.
From Russia with love in October 2011
Greetings from
Ulan-Ude, Russia!
From Kazan to Yekaterinburg, it is a 15-hour train ride. I have to say out of the 5 Russian cities that I visited, I like Kazan the most. I love its peacefulness, harmony and bookish atmosphere. Half of the population is Muslim and the half Orthox Christians. If you look at picture #82 carefully, you can see the minarets on the background and golden onion domes on the foreground. The picture has not been photo-shoped. Nowhere else in the world could have a mosque and a church within a block of each other; never mind in the same Kremlin.
Yekaterburg is famous for the gruesome murder of the last Russian royal family, the Romanov's. They were murdered in July 1918. I visited their final resting place at Sts. Peter & Paul cathedral in St. Petersburg. I thought I would also light a candle at their death site in Yekaterinburg where they were hiding from the Bolsheviks. For a mid-size Siberian city, Yekaterinburg has many more public jumbo screens than some world-class cities. Its wealth comes from the nearby precious stone mines.
This is my 13th day in Russia and my Russian vocabulary is still limited to a dozen words. However, I managed to keep myself entertained for the greater part of a 60-hour train ride without saying a whole lot of Russian to a train full of non-English speaking Russians. I got a 70-year old Russian grandma to sing and recite poetry to me. Other times I have had staring contests with kids and a young man from Tajikistan who now lives in Irkutsk.
The Buryats are Mongol descendants and they account for 30% of the population here. Tomorrow I will make a day trip to a Buddhist temple 23 km away from the city. On my way there, I will also visit the ethnological museum to better understand this culture. Ulan-Ude is famous for the 22-meter tall giant Lenin head. There is also a golden Lenin statue outside the new Orthodox Church on the newer side of the city. The locals just love their Uncle Len!
