The World is Your Oyster

I'm way behind on blogging, of course, I always am. But who says a blog should be a consequtive log of events? In good time I will give my wonderful days in Taipei with Michael their proper due, but for now I'll share a limited set of pictures from Cambodia. In Siem Reap, Sunny and I rented bicycles during our four-day stay, and found them a handy way to travel throughout the city. Of course, it's currently the rainy season in Cambodia, and more than once we were caught riding in the rain. It's not Seattle rain, the light mist we experience constantly from September to May. No no, the "rainy season" in Cambodia means a sheet of water dropped from the sky, heavy enough to soak a person in several seconds. It's astounding! I love it!

OK change of plans. As you can see, there are no new pictures. Sorry to disappoint, please file a complaint with blogger.com, which is the most inefficient and frustrating blogging system I have ever used. It is also the only one. I imagine someone from blogger is reading my complaint right now and my blog will be put on some sort of blog black list. Maybe it already has been, and that's why I cannot upload pictures. Or perhaps it's this archaic device I'm sitting in front of, which in 1995 would resemble a "computer" but it has a slower processing speed than my TI-83. Yes, you remember, TI-83 Tetris was the only way to survive calculus in high school. That calculator would be an impressive addition to the hardware collection in this Cambodian internet cafe. I won't complain further, considering the Khamer Rouge Regime killed nearly 30% of the Cambodian population from 1975-79. The country is easily forgiven for being a bit behind in computer technology. Speaking of obvious segues, I have been astounded to learn of the horriffic history of Cambodia, and knowing how much occurred in my life time only opens my eyes and frightens me even more. In high school, my progressive history teacher (is that an oxy moron?) Ms...dear god I can't remember her name. Have I been out of high school that long? Regardless, this idealistic and hopeful teacher of mine, who I shamefully had for two years and absolutely adored because she had bumper stickers that said "Free Tibet" and "Whirrled Peas"and I STILL can't remember her name, was always trying to raise our awareness of world events. We watched a film called "The Killing Fields," an account of two reporters during the Khamer Rouge take-over and the subsequent events in Cambodia. I remember thinking "Where's Cambodia?" That's embarrassing. At least I now know where Cambodia is.

Tomorrow I head East to Thailand for a few days, then fly to Taipei to see Michael's new apartment and his beautiful girlfriend Shiho for one evening, and on May 30th I land in Seattle. Traveling is wonderful, but I will be very happy to be home.

If you're looking for a place to shamelessly seek sexual relations with easy hot foreign women, Bangkok is it. Despite the big buddha and a boat ride up the Chao Phraya river, Bangkok didn't really appeal to me. I got out of there after only a day and went to Sihanoukville, Cambodia and spent a week on the beach. I'm currently in Siem Reap, Cambodia visiting Angkor Wat (grand ancient temples - love them!) and instead of returning to Thailand immediately (which I was secretly dreading), I will try to make it to Vietnam. Stay tuned...

Books I've read on my trip:
Mountains to Mountains - Tracy Kidder. Highly recommend it. I'd write a review but you know how to use the internet.
Tuesdays with Morrie - Mitch Albom. This book is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend you pick one up. It shares many of life's valuable lessons and is overall uplifting and inspirational.
The Fountainhead - Ayn Rand. Not my typical choice of author, but this book was recommended to me and overall I'm glad to have read it. The characters are dispicable but I learned about architecture and the importance of integrity. Plus I was so absorbed in the plot I could hardly put it down.
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte. My mom has been trying to get me to read this book since I was 12 years old and I regret having put it off so long. I loved this book page in and page out. Jane Eyre is strong, smart, and self-aware, a true heroine.

I'm currently reading: Foreign Babes in Biejing by Rachel DeWoskin, a great recommendation from my brudda about a Western woman's 5-year experience in Beijing. Quite funny. On tap is: The Know-It-All : One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World by A.J. Jacobs. I picked it up in an English bookstore in Hong Kong (I was in heaven! Books in English!).

I'm sad to leave my bro, who I've been with for the past week and a half in Hong Kong and Taipei. We've had some great moments. At the rate I'm going, I'll blog about them maybe a month from now.

On to Thailand!

I haven't much time to write at the moment, but I am making an effort because I imagine this will be my last blog update for a while. Michael and I spend 4 jam-packed days in Hong Kong (and I've subsequently realized that everywhere in Asia is jam-packed, with people). There are many fun stories to impart, but for the sake of time, the highlight of my Hong Kong experience:

I made the news.

My 15 minutes of fame are up, I suppose (ok, I was on air maybe 15-seconds, but in a city like Hong Kong with a population of 10 million people, I figured it's equivalent). A reporter was conducting a story on tourism and fundraising at the Giant Buddha just outside the city, and she targeted her perfect tourist victim to interview about my thoughts on the tourist destinations of Hong Kong. The first question she asked, as she glanced over my blond hair and sunglasses was, "Excuse me, miss, are you a tourist?" Was this woman mocking me? I gave what I thought were decently eloquent responses to her questions (Michael was standing by and will attest to this statement), but in the snippet that aired that night, I thought I sounded like a ditsy valley-girl. I almost wish I had played the part entirely and said "It's, like, really great to be in Hong Kong in the Republic of China, looking at this big statue of the emperor. " At least that was I would have made Leno. No matter how I actually appeared on TV, I was happy for the experience. In the least, it makes for a decent blog entry.

Michael's Comment: For the sake of geopolitical accuracy, it must be noted that the correct full name for Hong Kong is: Hong Kong Special Administrative Region. Don't forget Sucka!

Alas, I sign off. Tomorrow I leave for Thailand for three weeks and will doubtfully much chance to blog. I apologize in advance and will make my best efforts on your behalves, dear readers.

I haven't blogged in a long time, and I'm beginning to feel guilty. Again and again I have experiences worthy of a blog posting, and at moment of the happenings I think "wouldn't this be grand on my blog?!" Subsequently I'm amused for the proceeding half-minute I try to out-do myself with clever ways of recounting my stories.
Unfortunately for you, reader, these musings occur mostly in my head and rarely make it to the world wide web. Unfortunately for me, my sporatic blogging has caused me to feel guilty about 1. leaving my devoted readers in an undesired state of suspension and 2. the possibility of leaving out something or someone meaningful I have encountered on this trip.
It was unfortunate timing that my impatience with blogger.com grew past its tolerable threshold during my time in Germany. I loved my week with Ulrike in Hamburg. She worked during the day at her neuroscience lab where who knows what she really does. I like to imagine her with a Mary Shelly mindset: potions brewing in flasks and test tubes in musty dark cave with only the sound of electric current buzzing to muffle the screams of mercy of her "patients." Our evenings were some of the happiest times of my entire trip: we'd run or rock climb and henceforth celebrate our sporty and diciplined lifestyles with elaborate homemade salads and of course, red wine. Our philosophical yet analyltical conversations went late into the night, and many of the world's problems were discussed and resolved. Unfortunately I neglected to write down our brilliant solutions so sorry folks, George Bush will be president until I can come up with something else.
Uli and I traveled to Berlin to visit mutti, my German grandmother and Ulrike's real grandmother. Although many fun times were had during our weekend get-a-way, the highlight just may be when I discovered that street vendors sell pickles to eat on the spot. Walking down the street eating pickles in Berlin. Life ain't bad.

There are many stories from my two weeks in France, but I especially loved one lunch with Krystel, Dominique, and Krystel's father, who is 80 years old and incredibly old-school French. He spent several years in the US just after WWII, so clearly he was an expert on the US and had plenty of things to impart to me about my home country. Everyone at the table, other than myself, roared with laughter when he mentioned his experience with "mees keen-too-kee." I had no idea what they were talking about. Think, Kate, think: if you were French trying to communicate something, what would you mean by "mees keen-too-kee?" It dawned on me: he was saying "Miss Kentucky." He had dated Miss Kentucky while he was in Louisville in the 50s! A hilarious round of questioning ensued, but mostly I gathered from the nostalgic twinkle in his eye that Miss Kentucky of 1950 was quite a looker with a cute Southern accent, and this Frenchman before me still thought about her from time to time. Classic.
I also loved the moment when my 12 year-old French sister, Celia, discovered that I wore contact lenses. The conversation went something like this:
"You wear contacts, Kate? What is your real eye color?"
"Same color you see here, they're not colored contacts."
"Why not?
"I don't know, I guess I thought it was ok to have my own eye color."
"But if you don't change your color, why do you still wear contacts?!"
I guess sweet Celia hadn't been educated about secondary reason for wearing contacts (just a positive side effect): to help with vision.
One afternoon I went mushroom hunting in the woods near Thonon. We were searching for "morilles" which are rare and delicious (so I hear). We were a team of two guys and two girls; the guys knew how and where to find the mushrooms, and Stephanie and I mainly wandered around fields after them. When she and I discovered the abundance of pretty wild flowers, our nearly non-existent interest in finding mushrooms vanished altogether, and the rest of the afternoon was focused on arranging boquets. Sometimes I truly love to be a girl. The boys didn't find any mushrooms anyway.
I swam with the Club de Nageurs de Thonon twice during my stay, and although it was nice to "workout" (in quotes because hey, this is France. No offense to my fellow CNT swimmers), I was mainly there to gossip with former teammates whom I haven't seen for 4 years. I also enjoyed 2 days in Lyon to visit an old swimmer buddy, and although I don't particularly love large French cities, this one has its appeal. Not only was the weather flawlessly sunny, but Lyon has an unusual public service of renting bicycles! With many different locations to pick up and drop off, the bicycle service provided amusing outings mainly focused around my careless and directionless riding and Nicolas' continual state of agitation and stress (I don't think he appreciated my riding one-handed looking backwards simultaneously talking and taking photographs). I traveled to Lyon easily - only 3 hours by train from Thonon - and stayed in the apartment of my friend Nicolas and his girlfriend Audrey. I spent my two days there making a mission of embarrassing Nicolas with my American antics. I used to think that in France I fit in relatively well. However, according to Nicolas' reaction it seems I was nearly the cause of an international disaster because I ordered something salty at the boulangerie for breakfast. "We only eat sweet things for breakfast in France." He said it quite seriously. I thought it was hilarious that he would even care, let alone mention it, so naturally, the entire duration of breakfast I shared over and over again how well my salty quiche went with my sweet coffee.

The park in Lyon, my favorite place! Nicolas fortunately still spoke with me even after the quiche incident.