Thank you and goodnight.
So here we are. I've had a few random bits to tell you.
First of all, I made a horrifying discovery. I had been using this minimal program to resize my photos I was going to post. Kinda along the same lines of the now-available Photoshop Express- stripped down for sake of not consuming the resources something like Photoshop proper does, if you just have to do simple things.
Well.
I was resizing some pics the other day when I had one of the originals open next to a newly resized on with said program. To my horror, I only then realized that it had been pretty much bleaching the color out of my pics this whole time. And ya know, I always knew the pics I was posting didn't look as good as the originals but couldn't really put my finger on why. Ugh. I hate even thinking about it. Anyway, I'm just using PS now, fuck it.
Second of all, I got a camera. I didn't purchase an SLR. Reasoning- If I was going to buy one, I really wanted to get one with live view, which gets more expensive. And the main reason is, let's face it, with SLRs, the buying doesn;t end with the body and a couple lenses. In fact, if you're like me, you could end that sentence at "the buying doesn't end." I have other expensive hobbies I've been neglecting as it is (buying audio gear), so I'm not in a position to go starting another one.
So I bought a nice Canon point-and-shoot. And I have to say, I'm soooooo glad to have it over my old piece of shit. God I hated that thing. Sure it was thin and fit in my pocket, but the joy ended there. The pics I've already taken with the new one are just stunning compared, which brings me to Third of All.
Third of all, I changed my layout because I was thought my old one was too plain and frankly, I was getting tired of the little non-sequitur blurbs they were putting on the comments bar that two thirds of the time weren't funny.
Fourth of all, I, of course, have new pics to show! Thailand! Kuala Lumpur and Malaysia!
BUT.
Before I put an entry up with them, I have some others to show. Below is an amalgamation of pictures I've wanted to show for whatever reason but haven't had a context really, so I'm going to show them now because I just plain want to.
( 23 big pretty pics )
Q- What exactly do you do, anyway?
A- I'm the Senior Production Manager, which my resume puts best- "Responsible for overseeing all elements of the operation of two theaters, three musical venues, a nightclub, and all private events on board, with a focus on their technical integrity. Part of this includes coordinating the needs of the Production Managers, Stage Manager, Band Master, Line Captain, Audio Manager, and Guest Entertainers. It also includes (but is not limited to): organizing and executing rehearsals, operating the lighting and rigging systems in the main theater for all shows, acting as primary liaison between the department and other Senior Officers of the vessel for our mutual needs, overseeing all administrative and human resource needs of the department and staff, and holding meetings on a regular basis with both staff and senior management. Also, I act as primary point of contact for shore side technical management, by providing detailed reports of all production shows, and minutes of all technical meetings."
Q- Where do you... live?
A- That's a tricky one. I'm from Boston (US) originally. On my off-time, I bounce between there, New York, and Providence, where my family now lives. I will likely eventually settle in New York, but for now, the majority of the time I live on a ship.
Q- How'd you get in to that?
A- What, production or ships? I've been doing production-related work for, hell, 13, 14 years? Jesus. I got in to that by by begging my neighbor (who was a lighting guy) to teach me, and then working really hard, reading a lot, reverse engineering a lot of stuff- basically taught myself, with the help of a few good mentors. Ships? I had just quit a job managing a production outfit in Boston and opened the paper to an ad that said "Work on Ships!" I didn't give it mind at first but started thinking about it more and more, and two weeks later I was like, "Fuck it. I've always had the option of traveling for work and have never taken it." So I started throwing a resume around. When I took the ship job, I actually turned down offers from Cirque Du Soleil and Disney. Cirque would have amounted to touring North America's finest parking lots, and Disney has a reputation for being Nazis and miserable to work for.
Q- Can you get me a job?
A- Just as soon as my company decides to start paying me a finders fee, like their headhunters.
Q- What are the living quarters like?
A- Depends on your position. I have a room with a full bed, a desk, a couple chairs, nice big window, big tv. It's larger than what I would probably have if I lived in Manhattan, for sure. My room is a management room- most people are two to a room, in bunk beds, dorm style type situation. All rooms have their own bathroom. Executive management like the Captain have something more like a suite. I knew one captain that had a dog :)
Q- What about family and visitors?
A- Most people rated staff and higher have different degrees of privelege for family travel, from reduced rates to free for immediate family. If I was married, my spouse could live onboard with me for $10 a day. Also, I have an option for one person to be my "designated travel companion," which is kinda the same thing. I haven't used that one yet- any attractive females out there that aren't busy for a few months? ;P heh.
Q- How's the food?
A- Depends on the chef. In my current company, the food has been at least good pretty consistently. Can't say as much for Royal Caribbean, some of the food they give their crew is absolutely horrible. They actually served us cow hooves one day, which was appreciated by the three employees who actually like it. We had people cooking the pizza that don't really have pizza much where they come from, so they were putting things like peas and carrots on it, not knowing any better. Anyway- There are three mess halls for crew- the crew mess, staff mess and officers mess, depending on your rank. All entertainment department positions are allowed to eat in the public buffet, which is where most eatI usually eat at the buffet during the day and have dinner in the officers mess, because I like having something more, i dunno, "assembled?" for dinner. You have to be careful eating because the option is there to eat steak and cheesecake every night, and as I know all too well, can pack on 20lbs easily if you're not careful.
Q- Do you get much free time to get off the ship?
A- Clearly this is not a question anyone on LJ has asked me, cuz you've obviously seen the pictures, but I get asked it a lot onboard by passengers. Not all departments get as much, some people don't get any because of the timing of their jobs *shudder to think*. I wouldn't do a job like that unless there was a LOT of money involved.
Q- Do you guys have raging parties?
A- Well, we are sailors after all, we have a reputation to uphold. Me personally though, I actually don't drink very often while onboard. That's largely because I'm a beer kinda guy and the selection of beer here is piss, piss, and more piss. Also because I only have so much tolerance for for the idiots that are all like "WOOOOO PARTY!" all the time. Often I'd rather play Xbox.
Q- Speaking of Xbox, why were you so excited GTA IV came out?
A- Because as action-packed as my life may seem from reading the posts, the truth of the matter is that more than half the time, I'm in transit between places, and even with work I have an awful, awful lot of free time sometimes. Sitting and staring at the wall in your cabin can be maddening, they show the same shows on TV all the time, and you can only watch CNN for so many hours. I would be a lot less sane without an Xbox. And for the new GTA to come out a week before my contract starts is utterly perfect :)
Q- Have you ever gotten "involved" with a passenger?
A- "Involved" with a passenger = instant termination of employment. Major liability issues there.
Q- What is your next route and what cities will you be visiting?
A- May
11th-Malacca
12th-Penang
13th-Phuket
14th-Langkawi
15th-Port Kelang
16th-Singapore
21st-Freemantle
27th-Vung Tau
29th-Shinoukville
30th-Bangkok
31st-Ko Samui
The second reason was, well, one of the realities of travel: sometimes, you get somewhere you want to visit, it's easy to get around and communicate, the weather is perfect, and everything falls in to place like magic. Other times, like my time in India, you arrive on a holiday and a lot of things are closed, you're having worse jet-lag than usual, so you don't have as much energy to get around or to deal with a place that is more challenging than average to communicate or get around, the list goes on.
If you ask most people to write a list of ten places they want to visit before they die, I think it's safe to say at least half will have Egypt on there. That might be conservative.
I'm no different. It's a subject that sticks out in my mind as one of the defacto things fascinating as a young boy, along with dinosaurs and astronauts and toy guns.
Therefore, blogging on Egypt affords no half-measures.
( click here for really big Egypt post )
ca·coph·o·ny –noun, plural -nies.
1. harsh discordance of sound; dissonance: a cacophony of hoots, cackles, and wails.
2. a discordant and meaningless mixture of sounds: the cacophony produced by city traffic at midday.
3. Music. frequent use of discords of a harshness and relationship difficult to understand.
This is my favorite word. Keep that in mind, as I am, after all, about to write about India.
There's literally 100 guys with signs out here. Some of the signs have 6 names on them, and I'm looking for mine. I don't know it yet, but I'm at the beginning of one of the more surreal hours I've had in years.
There are still remnants of the self-medicated haze that made the 14-hour flight from Heathrow go by in a blink, and now it's aiding a bit in smearing this whole sequence events in to a delightfully absurd tapestry. First the hostile immigration official getting very angry because he couldn't seem to understand how my passport could possibly say I was in Chile a couple months ago, then the man that came out from the baggage processing area that, though in uniform, had every bit of exposed skin painted bright red. And now, this.
Finally I see my name. As usual, my driver doesn't speak any English, so we silently make our way to the car. Off we drive into the night, through the outskirts of Bombay. For 40 minutes, I watch a world like none I've ever known scroll by, emerging out of the darkness in front of us, and quickly disappearing into the night behind. holes we maneuver around with thing on fire in the middle of the street, police with huge sticks breaking up a mob, groups of people dressed up in traditional garb singing and jumping up and down in a frenzied outdoor party, dark alleys with herds of homeless milling about. I really wish I had words that could capture what I watched out the window, but I don't. It was the most amazing eye-candy, leaving me feel completely awed and alien.
There comes a point sometimes when you've traveled a lot that you've grown so accustomed to being in foreign environments, you hardly even notice anymore. Sometimes if you think about it too much, it can make the adventurer inside of you get a long face. Let me make a recommendation- If you ever start to feel that feeling, like there's nowhere on Earth left that will still seem like another planet to you, well, a trip to India is in order.
Finally we arrive at the Ambassador Hotel. From the nice car the port agent sent to pick me up to the 4 guys that escorted me from the car to the front desk (one to open the door, two to carry the luggage, one standing there welcoming me by name), I'm starting to feel like an ambassador myself.
This hotel was really kind of kitsch. Imagine a four-star hotel built in the 50's and not a single thing has been changed since. My room had a radio built in to the night stand. This thing amused me so much I took a video of it-
The timing on the fourth channel couldn't have been more perfect. Heh :)
I took a walk around for a bit but quickly decided to go to sleep. I had a whole day tomorrow to explore, and it turns out my friend Nikhil was in town to show me around.
Nik met me at the hotel the next day. We walked down to the Gate of India to get a ferry to the Elephanta Caves.
What I found amazing was there were tons of people jumping in that brown water fully clothed. Nik said it's common place, that people will jump in clothed to cool off or for fun and no one really thinks much of it. It suprised me, because of not only the obvious dirtiness of the water, but also that it was right on a boat landing, with huge objects maneuvering around that area. There was a dumpster full of water about ten feet behind me where I took this pic, and a woman was bathing her children in it.
We climb very haphazardly across several ferries tied together and off we go.
After a long, slow ride to the island we get off climbing over several boats the same way. We're greeted by a cacophony of noises distinctly Indian- young kids running around with kettles selling cups of chai (which Nik advised me not to drink, because the water in it might upset my unconditioned stomach), People hollering out sing-song chants in Hindi to advertise the various foods they had for sale, troops of kids banging on drums.
We stopped on the way back and tried a whole bunch of things from this woman- I mostly had mangoes and berries.
The Elephanta Caves are a World heritage Site and where made as a shrine to Shiva. The amazing thing about them is that they were carved out of SOLID ROCK. I don;t have to say much here, the pics speak for themselves.
Let me reiterate- CARVED FROM SOLID ROCK, people. Think about that for a minute. The chamber in the last one was something you saw throughout. Inside was a hemispherical protrusion. Nik told me that this was actually supposed to be Shiva's penis, and women that were having fertility problems could pray there, apparently sometimes even going as far as to lift their sari, and, well, you get the picture. There were several of this same thing, maybe implying that Shiva also had six penises? God of Destruction, hey, why not right?
We took the ferry back, and I couldn't help noticing I was getting stared at. A lot. "We don't get many 6'3" white guys walking around here, said Nik. This became more apparent as he howled in amusement at me trying to get in the back of a Fiat taxi-
The rest of the day was a leisurely walk around. Random pic I liked from the day-
He took me to his favorite tea house and ordered some really, really good masala chai. It was an explosion of flavors, it was awesome.
We walked over by the University-
and stopped when I asked, "what the hell is that?"
The answer was "sugar cane juice."
I would have liked it if it wasn't for the faint taste of dirt in it I couldn't ignore. See the guy painted red in that pic? Turns out I had arrived on a Hindi holiday- The Festival of Colors. Part of the festivities is everyone paints themselves in beautiful pastel colors. It was great, all these amazingly colored people everywhere We should have a holiday like that.
Nik couldn't stay out late, because the next day was Easter. It had been religious holidays back to back all week between the three major religions. I saw him off at the train station and wondered around.
It really is a different world. I walked for quite some time, never having been so obviously alien to everyone around me as I was there. Street vendors, a complex array of smells good and bad, Bollywood movie houses, beggars and homeless children, chaos and noise in every direction... I was tired. I still have a long trip ahead of me. I call it a night, and leave for the ship in the morning.
Off I go to Dubai, Egypt, and onwards to the Med.
Vietnam. Part of me thought it might be the progressive thing to do to try to experience the country on it's own merit. War? What war? But it became clear to me that the elephant in the room would not be possible to ignore. I would come to find that it was intrinsic to their identity as well, the "American War," as it's referred to, as much as it was for me as well, growing up in America, raised by the generation that fought both there and, in many ways, at home too.
Emotions were mixed on the ship- there were a lot of Vietnam veterans on board, and a get together was hosted for those that wanted to have a talk about what it was like to be returning. From what I understand, it went a little rough. Not bad, but rough. One man with pretty intense scarring shared a story of being in the wrong place when napalm was dropped and experiencing parts of himself melting off. Another proclaimed he was not getting off the ship and threw down the microphone. I talked to a couple vets myself over the days book-ending it and asked them what it was like to come back. In contrast to how some of the others clearly felt, he was indifferent, like it bared no more significance to him personally than our visits to anywhere else.
I was up before everyone else that morning (as I usually am with the odd hours I keep). I walked on open decks as we sailed up river. There were groupings of little fishing boats tied up together we kept passing, most people on asleep, though the occasional one would be up and be waving hello. The water was perfectly still. The jungle was lush and thick, and the air was fresh. The temperature was perfect, and there was an ever-so-slight breeze. It was peaceful.
So I wanted to check out a couple war-related sights. Greeting people getting off the gangway was a group of young Vietnamese girls whose significance I just plain don't know. Sorry girls. Nice dresses, though.
I didn't end up not having as much time as I wanted, and a big part of it was the traffic.
The traffic here is the most utterly insane I've ever seen in my life. I don't think I saw a single traffic light. The way an intersection changes which street "has the green light" is the collection of vehicles keeps pushing and pushing itself out in to the intersection until it finally has control, and then it's a mad race to get as much traffic through before the act is repeated. Most of the vehicles on the road are mopeds. When all the huge, noisey, dirty, ancient trucks squeeze a road to a stop, the thousands of mopeds move up on to the sidewalks and the pedestrians have to get out of the way, quick.
It became clear in the two mile, 1-hour-and-20-minute shuttle bus ride that I would have to seriously trim down my day to get back to the ship in time.
We ride through the outskirts between the port and downtown, getting a glimpse of something I always try to get I find really important- a place in town of no significance. I think this is more important to me sometimes than any tourist attraction. It's like what the city is really like when no one is looking. What I see is lots of old, delapitated buildings, augmented around thier parimeter with sheets of corugated steel sticking out from the walls, making makshift store fronts for everything from clothes to scooter repair.
The scooter repair places I thought were interesting, because out of lack of space, they're repairing everything right on e sidewalk in everyone's way.We finally arrive at Saigon Center, a pretty rotary (round-about, as they're otherwise known) in the center of town with a large fountain in the middle, across from the infamous Rex Hotel.
It's not an official fact that the Rex was home base of CIA Operations for the war, but the general consensus of the vets on the ship is that you would be an utter idiot to assert otherwise. It has a rooftop bar with a great view that was popular with GI's back in the day. I used their internet, and they had a training for housekeepers going on in Vietnamese in the room. They were acting out different scenarios on stage, and one guy was supposed to be a sick guest in bed. He kept hamming up it, going "aaaaaaah, aaaaaaaah, ooooooooooh," putting both myself and the crowd in hysterics.
Next to the Rex is City Hall.
It was built in the early 1900's during then-French Vietnam. This is an interesting characteristic you see occasionally around this city, the colonial architecture remaining from back then. It's painted in some of the usual colonial/Victorian-type pastels, with the backdrop of dirt, dingy Saigon all around it. The statue in front is Ho Chi Minh, with a plaque that referring to him as "The Great Teacher." I was decidedly objective today, interested in what difference of perspective I might find here on the war, but it would become more and more obvious that most of what would be offered would contain unintelligent, sensationalist propaganda rhetoric. Disappointing.
I went over to the former Presidental Palace to take a tour. It was 11:15 when I got there, and they close it from 11 to 1 for lunch. So I had heard about a War Remnants Museum, which was supposed to be warehouses full of stuff left over from the war, showing graphic details of tortures and other fucked up behavior on the part of American soldiers, again narrated in a Big Brother-esque way condemning the enemies of glorious Vietnam. Unfortunately, no rhetoric was available there either until 12:30. So I backtracked to the square in front of the Palace and started killing time.
I had a really great meal at a French cafe for a few dollars. One thing I found amusing was the exchange rate: 1 USD = 15,836 Vietnamese Dong. Most everything is priced here with an assumption of increments of 1,000, so something priced 15,000 is written 15. I walked around the square, where everyone seemed to be chilling out on thier lunch break. It seemed like there was a stark contrast between rich and poor here, where you'll have some of the rotting-teeth locals eating soup from a sidewalk vendor while sitting on a piece of cardboard with other expensive-looking locals wearing Prada socializing in a fenced-off cafe right behind them.
Finally the Palace reopened.
They had a replica of the tank that crashed through the gate to end the Tet Offensive and the war on the front lawn. Inside there were lots and lots of guns and rocket launchers and grenades and explosives:
All used from the Offensive. It was here I got my first glance at the rhetoric I had been told about. There were photos of American soldiers crouched down behind a wall, as soldiers usually do. The caption read "American soldiers hiding scared from the mighty People's Army of Vietnam." Then we started the tour. The first room we walk in to, the young girl giving the tour starts to give us an overview of the history leading up to the war. She said that the French didn't really leave, they just set up "a puppet government to give the illusion of independence," but luckily "the President was a weak man" so they were able to "get rid of all the weak men" and then I lost interest around then. Instead of opting for the full hour of insults to intelligence, I wondered off and explored the rest of the Palace on my own. It turned out to be, well, incredibly boring. In fact, the most boring point of the whole trip. So I'll spare you.
It was raining by the time I went back outside. They're famous for how serious their rain is, and I was about to learn why. This "afternoon shower" had drops the size of my thumb. When I first looked outside I thought it was hailing. I ran for a cab and got one in a matter of less than a minute, which was more than enough time to drench me to the shoes at maximum saturation.
I went to a local market with the little time I had left. It was jam-packed with people and the air was filled with a hundred different odors, many less than pleasant. This part of the world is excellent if you want to buy really convincing fakes of name-brand items like Rolex watches and Louis Vitton bags.
As I left, I took one last pic.
Taking pictures was difficult. It was a really interesting place to look at in general, but hard to find any particular "thing" that captured it in a frame.
Back on the ship, I bumped in to a veteran I had befriended earlier in the cruise and asked him how his day was. He hadn't been back since he was a young man leaving Saigon in the final days of the war. He said he didn't need closure, that he finished getting over it in the mid-80's, but after our visit (speaking forward now) he did feel a sense of relief to walk around and see the city going about it's normal day-to-day chaos, almost as if nothing ever happened.
Next on the itinerary was A Holiday in Cambodia.
Cambodia is a sorted place, a place you hear a lot about. Median income equals $246 USD a year. *Still* recovering from the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge and Pol Pot and The Killing Fields- healthcare, education, infrastructure, hell everything. HIV, water-bourne illness, the list goes on... It's one of the staple places people feel changed after going to, gain a sense of humanitarian responsibility. That said (and possibly sounding a little bastardly), I also think a certain percentage of people have a romanticized or egocentric motive with the whole "I'm a humanitarian and we need to help" thing. I take it with a grain of salt, and don't want it to affect forming my own opinions. Besides, I'm only here for the day. A more in depth depiction of Cambodia would probably be found on
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=91.6){kind=small}
anomalon's journal. On the positive, It's a beautiful country much like Vietnam, with some of the most unspoiled beaches in the world and amazing places such as Angkor Wat.
I took a bus in to town. The motorized rickshaw drivers were climbing all over each other and shouting as we got off the bus trying to fight for a fare. I used the internet briefly, and bought a Coke for about 15 cents US, which makes me wonder how badly I'm getting ripped off in the States when I pay $1.50.
Walking around town, one thing that really strikes me a sidewalk market I walk by. Sure you see a lot of farmer market type outdoor food sales everywhere. Usually there is more of an indoor market presence too. I was getting the feeling it was the main food market for the area, set up there on the muddy sidewalk. I zeroed in on one ladies booth selling meat out here in the heat, big chunks of raw meat hanging from hooks and other in piles on top of a sheet of wood she was using as a counter. She was digging around in the pile straightening everything out. Not the most unusual sight in this part of the world, but for some reason I kept thinking about it.
I was tired from the heat, and a little worn out by the chaos of this town. There really seems to be a lack of infrastructure you can feel here. I'm making my way back to the bus when I bump in to a photographer friend of mine. She had just come back from a temple and showed me all sorts of excellent picks. I sighed, because I knew what I had to do, despite my low energy level and growing scent. I had to make the most of my only day here and go check it out. I pay a guy $10 to drive me out there, wait around, and then drive me to the ship. I'm glad I did.
We make our way to Wat Otres, which is close enough to the ship that I can juggle it with the time available. A long dirt road brings us past an orphanage, and then to the temple.
One thing that strike me immediately upon exiting the car is the totally different vibe here. It had an overwhelmingly peaceful, calm feeling to the place. It was extremely pleasant.
There are many different shrines outdoors, all painted in blinding gold leaf.
The whole place was a technicolor delight, between the gold leaf and the bright orange of of the monks' robes, juxtaposed against the dark greys and greens of the old stone structures and vegetation around. I took off my shoes and went inside.
The interior was one room, with a large golden Buddha shrine in the center. All the walls and the ceiling were painted in beautifully colored religious art.
I loved it here. It was so calm and peaceful that I wanted to stay. Wouldn't be the first time the thought of becoming a monk had crossed my mind.
I had a conversation with one of the monks for a few minutes, and then a conversation with a nice and very dirty German man about the Love Parade, of all things. The contrast between this place and the feeling in town left me with questions in my mind.
Alas, it was time to go.
My guy took me back to the ship, and the ship took me to Bangkok, where I only had time to get on the plane and go back to Boston.
Travel. Personal development. Changing perspectives. Awakening new things.
Several days later I'm home walking through the supermarket, and I found myself still thinking about Cambodia. Something about it wasn't processing. Something was lingering with me and I couldn't articulate what I was feeling. Just then, I had walked up to the butcher's/ deli counter. Gleaming with lights from every direction, under smooth, rounded glass were perfect cuts of meat on ice, arranged in a beautiful display in a climate controlled environment, being tended to by men with uniforms and plastic gloves.
I thought of the woman with the meats on the sidewalk a few days before.
I stood there. I stared.
Bad, I know. Yeah yeah I know.
This is why I boarded the plane for the 12,000 mile journey to China with potentially the wrong type of visa. So I'll spare you all the versions of quasi-truthful explanations I had rehearsed on the plane. It doesn't change the fact that the consequences could be dire: I get held and treated like a criminal (and call me Mr. Making Stereotypes, but I get the impression the Chinese aren't very nice to criminals), I don't get on the ship, the show doesn't get put together right, I lose money and face with my company.....I spent several hours on the plane imaging myself as a bad third-rate story on CNN.
I land in Shanghai and after a quick glance at my passport and a stamping, I walk in.
I exchange $50 American for something in the range of 350-400 yuan. I just thought I was getting cab money in case my ride didn't show. I didn't know that amount would eventually cover two meals, four cab rides, two rides through outer space, and entrance to the observatory on the TV tower, with change. The port agent was there to pick me up.
As I was riding in to town, the first thing that I think any westerner notices right off the bat is the lack of a sky. It's no secret that this is one of China's major problems. In 2006, a study done by the World Bank showed China as having 16 of the 20 most polluted cities in the world. I saw another report that claimed 2 in the top 10, so maybe they've, uh, "improved."
This was my first time to Asia. I usually acclimate to new places pretty effortlessly, but right away watching the scenery out the window of the car, I get a little culture shock. There are tons of towers in every direction much like New York, but wedged down in between these buildings you see others being lived in that are missing walls, and generally look like they had been bombed out. Once we got to surface streets, I noticed all the power lines were in disarray, wrapped around branches of trees, sometimes long lengths of slack hanging in places they probably shouldn't be. There is a level of filth that I've definitely seen in less developed places, but never in a megalopolis like this. In fact, filth and disarray would become a theme through most of this trip. Not that it bothers me: shit, anyone who's seen the inside of my house knows I should feel right at home.
I get to the ship and waste no time dropping off my things. I grab a map and a sheet the ship had prepared of sentences expressing desires to go to certain locations, translated to Chinese writing. I take the shuttle bus in to town.
It hits me how much I've always wanted to come here. Not so deep inside me lies an eternal sci-fi dork that has always lusted for futuristic cities- the moreso, the better. And Asia has the corner on the market when it comes to this type of place.
One building caught my eye for how ominous it looked. I realized after a few minutes it reminded me of the evil tower in the Lord of the Rings.
So I get off the bus, and right away- the street vendors? It's ON. I've been many places in the world with pushy vendors, cabbies competing for you attention, people following you trying to get you to buy something. They're everywhere. But it's a whole other ball game here, these guys are serious and to say 'they won't take no for an answer' is laughable. They won't take it for an answer the 9th, 10th, or 11th time. I was standing at a street corner bieng harassed by one guy to buy a fake Rolex, when another Westerner said "HEY" to him. He turned to him and he said "Boo-sha-shee." (that's spelt phonetically, folks. cut me some slack). The guy instantly stopped.
"Yeah, they're relentless. "Boo-sha-shee" is a polite way of saying you're not interested and to please leave you alone, but with the right body language lets them know that you aren't asking."
(I've since looked it up and it seems more like "booya-shee," but maybe it was a dialect. Anyone?)
I walked around, ate some mystery meat on a stick for a the equivalent of a few cents (mmmmmm mystery meat). There were people all along the sidewalk with blankets down, selling wares. One guy was selling animal parts, and not for eating. He had the hoof of some animal, with a mangling of flesh and hanging bone along its 2 foot length that made it look as if the leg had been crudely ripped off of, well, whatever it was. But if that's what you happened to be looking for, he was your man.
Eventually on the formerly mentioned Westerner's directions, I got to Nanjing Road, the main shopping strip of the city. It's absolutely packed with people, so if you ever go there do keep in mind it's the absolute dream conditions for pick-pockets. Of course, being white and well over six feet tall, I was like a giant flashing beacon saying, "SOLICIT ME."
"Boo-sha-shee."
"Boo-sha-shee."
"Boo-sha-shee." Like a machine gun, and it really did stop them mid-sentence probably 75% of the time, the other 25% being like, "ooooohh!!!! you know Chinese!!!" *continues talking to you*
I thought most of the store I went in to were amazing, not for their wares but simply for how they are. A lot of the time it seemed that what would be for sale from one counter to the next was delightfully random. Candies? No? Whisky? No? Well how about some dishware? And a lot of the buildings were maze-like, which added to the allure.
But I decided that with the limited time I had, I wasn't interested in shopping. I wanted to see some sights. I wanted to check out the old part of the city, see what exactly a "Bund" is, and go to the top of the Oriental Pearl Tower, a building at the seat of my Blade-Runner-esque fantasies.
I end up taking a cab over to the old part, only to bump in to the singers from the cast randomly in a city of 20 million people. Our search together for a specific temple ended in vain, but the unique ambiance of the area can't be denied it's own value. I was feeling a bit blase after the bombardment of the shopping district, but my fun level was being restored. I mean hey, what is there to not like about a city that has a need for signs like this?
It was time to make our move. There was a place on the sightseeing map called the Bund and, despite any of us having any idea what it was, we all chose to go there.
Turns out the Bund is a large promenade on the river, with a top-notch view of downtown on the other side. It's crammed with tourists, vendors, and liesurely locals alike. I had actually already taken a pic of the view here- see the first pic I posted here? That turned out to be it. Now look closer at that photo- lots of sharp lines and shades of grey... wait, what's the fucking circus going on in the bottom left corner? I was about to find out.
The easiest way to get over to the Tower across the river is by way of the Bund Sightseeing Tunnel. Never has there been a more grossly under-described sight-to-see in the history of man. The colorful thing in the photo was the entrance to this tram that took you under the water, but not without making you feel like you had gotten a complimentary hit of LSD from the People's Republic of China. It should be called the 60's Sci-Fi Movie Tunnel, The Mystery Science Theater 3000 Tunnel, The Timothy Leary Memorial Parkway, anything.
See for yourself.
What just happened? Was it a rave? Was it a rejected Disney ride? Was it the Communist mind-control that Reagan warned me about?
Things got squirrelly from here. We arrive at the base of the Tower and they're blasting Ricky Martin. This is turning out like Fear and Loathing in Shanghai. We enter the tower and the elevator to the observatory, and the girl operating the elevator stares blankly at the wall while she robotically recites a script in Chinese and the English. I start to get the fear.
At over 1,000 ft, there isn't as much to see on the world's 5th highest observation deck as you would think, largely because of the smog. It does make it overwhelmingly apparent, though, how huge of a city we're actually talking about. From up here, it dwarfs New York in sheer urban intensity and expanse. "No joke," I think.
I did manage to get one half-decent pic up there, as the sun started to set behind the skyline and the smog:
We were running out of time. Oh shit, we were REALLY running out of time. A mad scramble ensued to try to get back to the ship. A lack of available taxis sent us in a mad run through surreal back streets of Shanghai towards the water until we finally caught one. Then communication with the driver was nearly hopeless, no matter what photos or maps we showed him. After driving in a few circles, we finally get to the ship.
1 minute to spare.
A couple sea days followed. My sleep schedule was fucked, but it didn't matter much as I had to do all my programming overnight while nothing was going on in the theatre anyway.
I sat down to lunch with Lawrence, the immigration official on from Hong Kong. He was doing the immigration work on board the vessel before we actually arrive in Hong Kong, which is it's own Special Administrative Region, and in many ways bears the characteristics of a seperate country. As a seemingly hip resident of HK, I picked his brain about where to go and what to do. He had a lot of great insight, especially for shopping.
"Is there anything in particular you want?"
"I seriously need new shoes."
He leans forward and with the most serious look on his face says, "You want to go to Mong Kok." I hold back a giggle. I felt bit childish at my amusement, but with neihborhoods named Mong Kok, a town named Phuket, and money called the Dong, this would not be the only bout of sophomoric sexual humor to be found on this trip.
My excitement level for Hong Kong couldn't have been higher. I always love going anywhere new, but above that, there's the coveted list of Most Wanted Places to Go. HK's on there.
The ship docks right in the heart of Kowloon, an area most regard as the heart of the city, though it itself is adjacent to Hong Kong Island. After 15 minutes of trying to figure out how to get out of the terminal (ranked the #1 Most Confusing Cruise Terminal in the World by me), I find myself out on the street and ready to pursue the first order of the day- wandering around. But where to start? Does anywhere seem to call to me? Call to me by name? Hmmmm......
Ah yes. Well to the luck of my vanity, it happens to be the main street of Kowloon. It's a bombardment of sights and sounds and smells and colors and cultures. Amongst the endless small shops crammed floor to ceiling with merchandise, I find Kowloon Park.
Now, I think this is a great example of something I personally have never seen in North America. Our idea of a city park is green space, be it gardens or lawn or trees. This had that, but it also had a variety of miniature forms of other recreations available, including a traditional pagoda-laden chinese garden, a hedge maze, an aviary, a giant castle for the kids, an exercise area, and a pond with coy, turtles, and ducks.
I was walking through the aviary when I crossed paths with a British woman with a 5 year old girl. As we were standing there, a cockatoo started climbing on to another's back. The kid said, "Mommy mommy look!" She replied, "Oh right look at that, he's trying to stand on the other birds back" and turned and shot me a look that said, "yeah right." "Come on let's look at some other birds sweetheart!" I laughed to myself.
I soon figured it was time to stop mucking about and make a game plan. So here we go- up to Mong Kok to check it out, look around for some shoes. Then back down to the Avenue of the Stars on the river. Then Aberdeen the "floating city," Stanley Market, then back to Victoria's Peak before calling it a day. So following Lawrence's directions, I got on the subway.
I could have taken a cab, but this is a "thing" of mine. I always try to take the subway once in every city that has one. I usually will take a cab most places, being that my time is always at a premium and it's usually the fastest way to go. But being a city boy at heart, I think you can tell a lot about a city and get a real feel for the true vibe by taking the train.
Some buddhist monks ask me to help them find the English name of a place on the subway map for them, because they can't make out the characters of my language, same as I can't make out theirs.
Three stops later, I'm in Mong Kok,
And I thought Nathan Road was stimulating? Jesus. There's so many signs overhead that you feel indoors. The urbanophile in me swooned. I was headed to Fa Yuen or Shoe Street, as Lawrence recommended. On the way I duck down one of the numerous side alleys, jam-packed with every type of flea-market-esque booth you can imagine.
I bought some odd gifts for friends for less than a dollar each. I finally hit the shoe street, and I felt a rush of elation and disappointment at the same time. This was a shopper's paradise- thousands of amazing everything, all at great prices, yet I knew I only had so many hours to see as much of an amazing city as I could. If shopping is your vice, give yourself a week for that alone if you visit here. I simply didn't have time to even allow myself to start that ball rolling, because we all know how that goes.
You couldn't walk down most streets without coming across a snack vendor exactly like this"
All sorts of things to try, depending on your level of bravery at the time. I opted not for the boiling vat of tripe in the center, but rather something more entry-level:
Can anyone identify it? It was kind of doughy, but had the taste of ice cream cone. Yummy!OK keep moving. On to Avenue of the Stars. It's a promenade on the river in Kowloon that is like a scaled down version of Hollywood Boulevard. Great view. This is where you'll find the Hong Kong Museum of Art.
A man was so amazed my hands were bigger than Jackie Chan's that he exuberantly wanted to take a picture! So I had him take one for me while he was at it.
Jet Li, Chow Yuen Fat, and a statue of The Dragon himself rounded out my stroll.
In to a cab to take the tunnel under the river to Aberdeen, then to Stanley Market. Besides the humor of seeing drunken Chinese business men in expensive suits pissing all over a wall together and laughing, the main draw to Aberdeen was the floating restaurants, and I wasn't hungry. So I left straight away to Stanley Market.
The market was a bit of a tourist trap. A lot of tourist items from sale ranging from kitch to just plain cheese, all at tourist prices. Behind it is beach with a lot of nice, little, mostly Western cafes and bars.
It was unusual in that here, I didn't feel like I was in Asia at all. It very well could have been a small resort town in the U.S. Lots and lots of ex-pats, and I think if I was an American living in HK and needed a place to feel home for an afternoon, I would definitely find my way down there to decompress.
But with the clock ticking and wanting to get more of an experience of Asia, I headed off to my final destination of the day- Victoria's Peak. This is where you can get the famous shot of the HK skyline. Ya know, this one-
Gorgeous. Simply Gorgeous.
And how about this for the best view from a coffee shop ever?
Pacific Coffee, a chain shop that's up there in the mall. Good cheesecake, fyi.So time running out, it was time to head back. I took a ferry across the river to the ship. But the night was still to end with a bang.
I bump in to Lawrence one more time as he's leaving the ship. "Hey! Get up on deck! the 8 o'clock light show is about to start!"
Turns out, every night at 8pm the city puts on a huge light show over the river, shooting from the tops of the tallest buildings and rippling with LEDs across the front of many buildings.
Having spent a decade as a lighting designer, I'm overwhelmed with glee as I snap photo after photo.
Perfect.
We sail out under the laser lights towards Saigon, a definitively different world than this.
I'm back from southeast Asia, and piecing together another entry about it. But in the meantime, I'm shocked by I've forgotten to mention something, because it's so utterly novel.
The ship that I'm working on since Easter Island up through the UK is The Love Boat. Well, kinda. It's the Pacific Princess, the ship the show was supposed to take place on. I had never watched the Love Boat, so I pulled up some on youtube. Exept for the outside shots, a lot of it looks like was clearly shot in a studio, and the Pacific Princess now is not the actual same ship it was then. The original was sold off to another company once it reached a certain level of age and wear, and the one I'm on now is just carrying the namesake. It's bigger than the original (but still very small, smallest I've worked on), and the interior is very opulent (the nicest I've seen).
It's unusual, the itinerary we're currently on- a lot of cruise ships generally will do a repeating itinerary for the duration of a season.The ships get moved to climates that are accomidating for the time of year. For example, you'll the Mexican Riviera out of San Diego, 1 week cruises, dropping off and picking up new passengers every Saturday let's say. You'll do that all winter and then when summer comes around, the ship will move up to Seattle and do the same thing in Alaska all summer.
But this cruise is a world cruise. They started in January in Ft. Lauderdale, and we're making our way west to the UK, to arrive at the end of March. Not a full circumnavigation, but past the UK the real worthwhile path across the Atlantic is northern (Iceland, Greenland, Quebec, New England), and it's too cold this time of year for that really. The other choice is a straight shot across the Atlantic, and all you get out of that is 5 days of rough seas and a stop at the Azores, which are kind of meh, in my opinion. Besides I think they want to keep the ship close to the Med because when it's done with this, it's starting a Holy Land itinerary, Israel, Egypt, etc.
So around the world on the Love Boat, that's a bit of a novelty. I'll bet it had at least some influence on the sales for this cruise.
I'll probably have a "real" entry up tomorrow at some point.
I wanted to make a quick note about me and the internet. A lot of the time, my access is from the ship's satellite feed. It's slow, it's down half the time, and it's expensive. Also it's only on terminals that are locked down like Fort Knox, so whenever I want to actually post something with pictures, it's out of the question unless I find internet on land somewhere. Which I seek out all the time, but with varying degrees of success. Often it involves trying to get directions in a foriegn city from someone who's language I don't speak.
So just a heads up that sometimes it takes me a while to reply, and days-to-a-week gaps of internet silence are not infrequent with me. Which is hard sometimes, because the internet is like crack for me :)
And don't be suprised if you've left me several comments and then, one day, you open your inbox and you have 6 replies from me at once cuz that's how i roll, yo.
