From Suchitoto onward, the excitement waned a bit.
The busroad down a dirt road to the crossroads town of Alquilera was uneventful if scenic, including a few towns that were still rebuilding from the war even fifteen years later. After a few hours standing around a dusty sweltering crossroads in northern El Salvador, with no one around but venders who swarmed each passing bus like flies, I was starting to worry my bus wouldn’t come. I also got a chance to examine the tires of the ancient chicken busses rolling past, almost all of which were completely bald. Finally, a bus to the Honduran frontier came, and I crammed myself on with a few dozen farmers carrying bags of grain and feed, and the stereo blasting not Latin music but some 80’s mix that included “Ghostbusters” about three times. I got off the border stop of La Palma a few hours later, and encountered the first gringos and spoke the first English in nearly a week. We all split a hotel room and swapped tales about the ins and outs of backpacker travel on various continents. It was two Brits, one American and one Israeli, all of whom were pretty cool and I stayed with for the next few days into Honduras.
The border crossing was painless again, and the guards refused to stamp our passports, even when we asked! I was a little annoyed to discover that my companions had, um, not exactly declared everything they were traveling with, but I suppose no border agents want the extra hassle of searching bags or the extra paperwork of arresting a few foreign nationals.
The trip across Honduras was beautiful if seemingly endless, and we rolled in Copan a little before nightfall. Copan sits on the border with Guatemala, and its main claim to fame are its lovely colonial cobbled streets and some Mayan ruins about a kilometer outside of town. We even caught the red sox game at a local bar, owned by a twenty five year old American who had bought the place sight unseen about six months earlier. He had moved down to Honduras with almost no Spanish and having never even set foot in the country, he was also getting sued by about three different locals.
The trip to the ruins themselves was moderately disappointing. I suppose it’s hard for much to live up to Tikal for Mayan grandeur, and certainly Angkor Wat where I was not too long ago… Still, the wildlife of parrots and macaws was impressive, and the level of detail preserved in the ruins and hieroglyphics was far greater than any I’d seen in the Americas. I bid adios to my companions, most of whom will be traveling until autumn- Carmel the Israeli will even be in Peru and Bolivia this summer by the time I’m back there traveling!
Antigua Guatemala remains as beautiful as ever, though more gentrified than I remembered. Perhaps my perception of “touristy” has changed in the years since I was last here, or perhaps the place has changed. It can’t be that touristy though- I heard another story about the kid who got robbed twice within ten minutes in Antigua- oh yeah did I mention it was BY THE POLICE, who were basically demanding a wallet inspection/ID check of all drunk tourists (which I’d imagine made his insurance claim more difficult- he probably had to bribe the same cops that robbed him to write up a report to submit to his insurance company) Still, it was nice to be somewhere somewhat familiar, even if my hostel was terrible- dirty, loud, full of coked up Australians partying till 7am- thank god for ear plugs and note to self not to stay in hostel ever again. Oh yeah, and the bathroom door electrecuted you inless you used a flip flop as a barrier!
Had a great hike up Volcano Pacaya, which restored (somewhat) my faith in humanity after such a frustrating night. We drove through dense fog part way up the volcano to the town of San Francisco, an hourlong hike from actively flowing lava. (I cannot believe people live that close to an active volcano!!) The hike was gorgeous through foggy jungle, past farms and long since past lava flows. Just as we made it out of the jungle to an area that was entirely rock, the fog and clouds cleared, giving us a view of the jagged black volcanic rock, (some only formed in the past few weeks) that made up the rest of the volcano and our hike. We could see smoke and lava flowing from the volcano’s peak, and, well, headed toward it. We hiked another half hour across the moonlike surface (why do people describe things as moon-like? I mean, how many of us have actually been on the moon, and yet the description somehow aptly captures something…) The rock is incredibly sharp and tore up my sneakers in no time, of course, after a few minutes of hiking you could even begin to smell the rubber of your sneakers melting on the hot rock. Finally we got up close and personal with some real lava and the opportunity to toast marshmallows over lava. Taking my picture even ten feet from the stuff, it must have been about 300 degrees- it was opening an oven door except the heat doesn’t cease. A beautiful moonlit hike down, watching the sparks flying from the top of the mountain made quite a dramatic end to another great trip.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
El Salvador I
(SUN) Today after class (i'm brushing up on my spanish) i walked to the bus stop with my teacher, who didnt want me to get lost. She wanted to take the bus to the station, but it was only about five blocks- whats the deal with these people in these countries taking public transportation to go 300 feet? I mean, its hot but... We walked though the market, which was a little sketchy, and past some brothels where I did get some kind complements on my eyes.
The town of Juayua where the feria gastronimica (food fair) that i wanted to go to is incredibly beautiful and charming. A classic coffee country of central america town, nestled between three volcanos covered in coffee fincas, blooming with white flowers, and just a small town square surrounded by some sun drenched colonial buildings and a looming white church. The fair itself was great, food stalls lining the central park, the smell of grilling meats and frying cakes and such, and tons of people- though all salvadorean tourists. (though i did see two canadians- the first nortes yet). I had me some grilled rabbit, some tacos and churros, among other gastronomic delights. I missed the bus on the way home, because i was standing in the wrong bus stop, but a santa ana bus came, and i asked but it was an excusrion of old people. They let me sit on the steps next to the open door (bear in mind this is a 30 year old school bus!!) and chatted with the old ladies about my life and about their various relatives who live in the states. Its amazing how many people have friends or relatives or have themselves lived and worked in the US. This one guy i met in the park was so proud of his time there, where he earned 5000$ building houses in las vegas and santa monica. He showed me his working papers (fake) and his social security card (real) and even complained about the taxes! Once the bus was dropping people off, I was in front so was helping all these three foot tall old women off the bus, which everyone found uproriously funny. Another word on buses, which are all ancient american schoolbuses, (painted in insane colors and decorated inside with all kinds of holy charms,) and thus VERY uncomfortable on semi-paved or cobblestoned streets, is that i read in the newspaper here that the government might start inspecting all public buses more than 20 years old. Not a bad idea.
Santa Ana itself is fine, some nice old colonial buildings, but a bit grimey overall. No tourists though, and I've already gotten to know some locals who like to chat with a norteamericano while sipping coffee in the park. Its also funny how far high school spanish can get you- even though i'm more advanced, these very down to earth people literally ask me questions like "what do you like to eat?" and "do you have any relatives?" "what sports do you like?" "what do you do for work?" I suppose this is okay, because they accent here is insane, plus they haev many different words from other latin dialects. In Nicaragua, i thought it was hard because they dropped the end of the word, here the literally drop the beginning AND the end. The trip so far feels like one of those trips you hope for- weird encounters with locals who turn out to be incredibly kind and generous, days passing without seeing another tourist, and those things I really like here. Not to mention the best food in central america and some amazing scenery.
Tuesday:
The day began as usual with purchasing my last cup of 15c coffee in the park, (yes, starbucks is literally more than ten times that) and then attempts to travel all over Santa Ana by bus to find a working ATM machine, which I FINALLY was able to do. Its amazing what a difference just having 50$ in cash makes, I feel like I can now survive until Monday if I need to. Funny how ones perception of life changes with some cash, worries evaporate, all with just 50$. Took the bus to San Salvador, which was both better and worse than I expected- basically your standard sprawling third world metropolis, with lots of fast food places and quasi-Arabic looking gang grafitti for MS13 and other infamous LA gangs that are apparently down here. But I successfully got into town, took a bus across town, and found the Suchitoto bus. I used the bathroom, which was surprisingly clean, and they gave me a ticket, they give you tickets and bits of paper constantly down here- every bus, every site every whatever. On a bus, I understand, maybe they want to check your ticket at some point, even on a five minute city bus, okay, I guess. They even do a lot of coming to collect your piece of paper on long bus rides, and then handing you a different piece of paper. But whats going on with the ticket to the bathroom, will I be in there and suddenly the bathroom inspector shows up and demands to see my ticket? I read somewhere once that all the beuracratic redundancy is a legacy of colonialism, Spanish colonialism in particular where every massive shipment of gold and treasure needed to be sealed and resealed and stamped and approved, and given triple redundant checks to keep it all safe, and that is why there is still the legacy of beuracracy. Who knows, either way, I hope I don't get caught in the bathroom without a ticket!
I got on the bus which soon filled itself to capacity, then beyond as we were pulling out of town through market stalls, weaving past women carrying impossible amounts of fruit or whatever laden baskets on their heads. The venders came through the bus, somehow squeezing past the two or three to a schoolbus seat and full aisles to sell their wares. At first it makes sense someone selling bags of water or sliced mangos, which I really wanted to buy, though was too cramped to reach my wallet (which I hoped also meant too cramped for anyone else to reach my wallet) then it gets a little weirder- shark fin pills, and people literally selling snake oil, then a guy just walking through selling dried packages of spaghetti and pasta. What next women's lingerie? YUP!
Suchitoto is an amazingly charming town, straight out of a movie. Old white colonial buildings with red brick roofs, a backdrop of jungled volcanos pocked with bomb craters and trenches, glimpses at the enormous and impossibly royal blue lake suchitoto down cobblestone alleyways. The women are wearing hand-sewn dresses, the men dressed in cowboy hats, unbuttoned shirts, boots and all seem to have mustaches- so in that case, maybe it's a little more like the west village…. But the kids are playing soccer in the cobblestoned central park, using the gate of the Moorish looking church as the goal.
My hotel is great, though its kind of eerie to be the only person staying there, and there was no one at the other hotel (too expensive) in town either. Its like an old villa with an overgrown central courtyard, complete with rusting wrought iron furniture, and low hanging mango trees that the kids throw sticks at, in spite of the fact that there are mangos all over the place on the ground. They also kept falling on my brick ceiling through the night and scaring me awake until I realized what the sound was.
Its a very liberal little corner of the country that saw much fighting. Lots of handpainted murals about farming cooperatives, for women"s and indigenous rights, against globalization and privatization. The region saw a lot of fighting during the war, and I was hoping to go take a tour of the mountain strongholds with an ex-guerilla, but he wanted more than a day's notice. Apparently you can go out and see the old guerilla camps, tunnels, trenches and field hospitals that are still in the mountains, as well as taking in some rainforest beauty and 300 foot waterfalls. Oh well, next time- Ill have to make do with just the waterfalls today. Also sat inside the church just to cool off- it was beautiful though, white sheets were blowing in the breeze, leftover from easter, and there were literally doves flying around the apse like I was in a John Woo movie or something...
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
March Books...
Palestine Peace Not Apartheid: Jimmy Carter
Can’t say I entirely understand all the controversy, I found the book did not blame one side or another. Who it did put a lot of blame on was power hungry politicians rather than on the people of the two sides. Surprisingly Christian in tone also, I forget that Carter is an evangelical Christian himself. I’d recommend this book highly, though I’d also like to read other perspectives on the whole issue if anyone recommends any.
Undercover Economist:
If you want to get some real life examples of how larger economic theories work, this is an excellent book that is easy and even fun to read. Starting with microeconomics and moving to macro, the book explains why coffee shops are so expensive, why lousy restaurants prevail in touristy areas, why used cars are always terrible and other economic phenomena. Great until the very end, when it got a little too pro-free trade for my opinion.
Spiral Staircase: Karen Armstrong
An interesting new genre- the “academic memoir.” Armstrong’s book started a bit dull but I cant not finish a book and so kept going with it. Armstrong, if you look at any other books I’ve reviewed, is a somewhat popular religion writer, but I didn’t realize she had had such a fascinating life. From living in a catholic convent, to pursuing a Ph. D at Oxford, to all manner of mental and physical illness in between she tells a wonderful story about finding a place for spirituality in her life. Her study of the world religions brought her closer to the divine than all the practice ever good, and I felt like I really began to understand on a deeper level what religion meant, how it operates in cultures, and how it intersects and departs from dogma.
Can’t say I entirely understand all the controversy, I found the book did not blame one side or another. Who it did put a lot of blame on was power hungry politicians rather than on the people of the two sides. Surprisingly Christian in tone also, I forget that Carter is an evangelical Christian himself. I’d recommend this book highly, though I’d also like to read other perspectives on the whole issue if anyone recommends any.
Undercover Economist:
If you want to get some real life examples of how larger economic theories work, this is an excellent book that is easy and even fun to read. Starting with microeconomics and moving to macro, the book explains why coffee shops are so expensive, why lousy restaurants prevail in touristy areas, why used cars are always terrible and other economic phenomena. Great until the very end, when it got a little too pro-free trade for my opinion.
Spiral Staircase: Karen Armstrong
An interesting new genre- the “academic memoir.” Armstrong’s book started a bit dull but I cant not finish a book and so kept going with it. Armstrong, if you look at any other books I’ve reviewed, is a somewhat popular religion writer, but I didn’t realize she had had such a fascinating life. From living in a catholic convent, to pursuing a Ph. D at Oxford, to all manner of mental and physical illness in between she tells a wonderful story about finding a place for spirituality in her life. Her study of the world religions brought her closer to the divine than all the practice ever good, and I felt like I really began to understand on a deeper level what religion meant, how it operates in cultures, and how it intersects and departs from dogma.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
February Books...
Babylon By Bus:
The true story of two college dropout hipsters who invented the “Yankees Suck” T-Shirt, making a small fortune in the process, decide to travel the world, making increasingly extreme travel adventures until ultimately traveling by bus from Amman Jordan to Baghdad Iraq, where they land jobs coordinating NGO’s for the Coalition Provisional Authority in the middle of the Iraq War. I was expecting outrageously tales of warzone hijinks, surreal experiences, and lots of heavy drug use which I got- what I didn’t expect was such a coherently written book that also strongly analyzed the current situation in Iraq. Jeff and Ray do have crazy adventures, but also detail the massive blunders and shortsightedness that had lead to the ever declining quagmire in Iraq, but do it without oversimplified anti-war rhetoric. Great as an adventure story, great as a warzone tale, and incisive and educational about many of the reasons why things have gotten so bad, this one I’d recommend on all counts- except for the kind of crappy writing.
The Ruins: Scott
Great travel horror novel by the author of A Simple Plan. Recommended beach or airplane reading.
The Places In Between: Rory Stewart
A much more interesting, funny, and well written book about Afghanistan than the kite runner. Written by a british historian who literally walked across the country after the fall of the Taliban. Amazing dry wit, astute cultural observations and keen political understanding.
Off The Books- The Underground Economy of the Urban Poor- Sudhir Venkatesh
Somewhat reminiscient of “nickel and dimed” about the working poor, but really tackles race and gender as well as class in an academic (but accessible) sociological/economic study of one neighborhood on the south side of Chicago. This is also the writer cited in “freakonimics,” which I really enjoyed. Its about the off-the-books work that people who are unemployable by the mainstream do- some of which is drug dealing and prostituion, but much of which is informal off the books, childcare, counseling, and other entrepreneurial jobs in order to make ends meet. Also explains the symbiotic roles of community leaders from pastors to gang leaders, and why neither are entirely what they seem. The only problem issue is making sure that it is read and thought over carefully to understand nuances and lack of choices available to people outside of white middle class America, because it could almost just as easily perpetuate negative stereotypes about people in the inner city.
Islam: Karen Armstrong
The origins and early history were fascinating, and then it really started to slow down in the middle. The last part picked up steam again as it discussed Islam’s struggle to move into modernity, and explained the historical forces that push to move the religion forwards and backwards.
The true story of two college dropout hipsters who invented the “Yankees Suck” T-Shirt, making a small fortune in the process, decide to travel the world, making increasingly extreme travel adventures until ultimately traveling by bus from Amman Jordan to Baghdad Iraq, where they land jobs coordinating NGO’s for the Coalition Provisional Authority in the middle of the Iraq War. I was expecting outrageously tales of warzone hijinks, surreal experiences, and lots of heavy drug use which I got- what I didn’t expect was such a coherently written book that also strongly analyzed the current situation in Iraq. Jeff and Ray do have crazy adventures, but also detail the massive blunders and shortsightedness that had lead to the ever declining quagmire in Iraq, but do it without oversimplified anti-war rhetoric. Great as an adventure story, great as a warzone tale, and incisive and educational about many of the reasons why things have gotten so bad, this one I’d recommend on all counts- except for the kind of crappy writing.
The Ruins: Scott
Great travel horror novel by the author of A Simple Plan. Recommended beach or airplane reading.
The Places In Between: Rory Stewart
A much more interesting, funny, and well written book about Afghanistan than the kite runner. Written by a british historian who literally walked across the country after the fall of the Taliban. Amazing dry wit, astute cultural observations and keen political understanding.
Off The Books- The Underground Economy of the Urban Poor- Sudhir Venkatesh
Somewhat reminiscient of “nickel and dimed” about the working poor, but really tackles race and gender as well as class in an academic (but accessible) sociological/economic study of one neighborhood on the south side of Chicago. This is also the writer cited in “freakonimics,” which I really enjoyed. Its about the off-the-books work that people who are unemployable by the mainstream do- some of which is drug dealing and prostituion, but much of which is informal off the books, childcare, counseling, and other entrepreneurial jobs in order to make ends meet. Also explains the symbiotic roles of community leaders from pastors to gang leaders, and why neither are entirely what they seem. The only problem issue is making sure that it is read and thought over carefully to understand nuances and lack of choices available to people outside of white middle class America, because it could almost just as easily perpetuate negative stereotypes about people in the inner city.
Islam: Karen Armstrong
The origins and early history were fascinating, and then it really started to slow down in the middle. The last part picked up steam again as it discussed Islam’s struggle to move into modernity, and explained the historical forces that push to move the religion forwards and backwards.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
January Books...
The Coma:
Alex Garland has written some great stuff, but this experimental novel really never took off for me. A great idea- a nonlinear narrative of consciousness in a coma, but it ended up feeling like it was trying too hard to be something it wasn’t. The book also took about an hour to read, which was a little disappointing as well.
Social Intelligence:
This is the best semi-popular book on psychology I’ve read in a long time. Sometimes it seems like I just read basically the same book about psychology over and over again, that cite all the same studies and research, but this really pulled them all together well. Although it references all the studies and researchers I already find interesting: Ekman, (4 horsemen guy), Baron-Cohen (Simon, not Sascha), and others, it distills them efficiently and makes useful and meaningful connections and offers applications to them all.
The Kite Runner: Khaleed Hosseini
Book as movie
I have very mixed feelings about this novel, the tale of an Afghan refugee who grows up in America, and his childhood friendship with a servant boy. Clearly, the book’s intention is to educate westerners about Afghan culture and recent Afghan history by telling a story filled with details that illustrate the rich culture and heartbreaking history of a nation. (Though I can’t help but wonder if another, political, agenda, to justify the war there- perhaps the author’s intent, perhaps the book was usurped in this way.) In the details, the book succeeds- by pulling no punches and including wonderful small written illustrations of life in Afghanistan over the past forty years, I walked away feeling like I understood much better. But the story taken by itself, was almost laughably absurd in its Hollywood-like plot, right down to the three-act structure and everything from the beginning coming perfectly full circle to the nauseatingly sweet and manipulative ending. It was like the writer went to a screenwriting workshop and then wrote a novel- is this what the novel has come to, an early draft of a Hollywood movie? The completely Western narrative structure superimposed on another culture ultimately felt forced, detracting and distracting the reader from what was recommendable about this book, which did make for an educational and quick read. I may spoil the end a bit here so stop reading if you plan to read the book but come on: He now has to fight his childhood enemy to the death forty years later? And I was thinking the moment the character was introduced If this guy comes back forty years later as the bad Taliban guy, I’m gonna throw up. Well, he did. Basically, this is a crappy epic movie in books form.
From a cultural standpoint of trauma, I also questioned the book. The boy is traumatized by the relationship with Assef- no doubt, but his trauma reaction is completely western- suicide attempts, silnce, etc. I’m not sure if the sequilae of trauma really unfold this way in a culture where child abuse/buggery is more integrated into /endemic to the culture. That’s not to defend the behavior with a kind of cultural relativism, just that I don’t think you can put an American trauma reaction on an afghan situation.
Alex Garland has written some great stuff, but this experimental novel really never took off for me. A great idea- a nonlinear narrative of consciousness in a coma, but it ended up feeling like it was trying too hard to be something it wasn’t. The book also took about an hour to read, which was a little disappointing as well.
Social Intelligence:
This is the best semi-popular book on psychology I’ve read in a long time. Sometimes it seems like I just read basically the same book about psychology over and over again, that cite all the same studies and research, but this really pulled them all together well. Although it references all the studies and researchers I already find interesting: Ekman, (4 horsemen guy), Baron-Cohen (Simon, not Sascha), and others, it distills them efficiently and makes useful and meaningful connections and offers applications to them all.
The Kite Runner: Khaleed Hosseini
Book as movie
I have very mixed feelings about this novel, the tale of an Afghan refugee who grows up in America, and his childhood friendship with a servant boy. Clearly, the book’s intention is to educate westerners about Afghan culture and recent Afghan history by telling a story filled with details that illustrate the rich culture and heartbreaking history of a nation. (Though I can’t help but wonder if another, political, agenda, to justify the war there- perhaps the author’s intent, perhaps the book was usurped in this way.) In the details, the book succeeds- by pulling no punches and including wonderful small written illustrations of life in Afghanistan over the past forty years, I walked away feeling like I understood much better. But the story taken by itself, was almost laughably absurd in its Hollywood-like plot, right down to the three-act structure and everything from the beginning coming perfectly full circle to the nauseatingly sweet and manipulative ending. It was like the writer went to a screenwriting workshop and then wrote a novel- is this what the novel has come to, an early draft of a Hollywood movie? The completely Western narrative structure superimposed on another culture ultimately felt forced, detracting and distracting the reader from what was recommendable about this book, which did make for an educational and quick read. I may spoil the end a bit here so stop reading if you plan to read the book but come on: He now has to fight his childhood enemy to the death forty years later? And I was thinking the moment the character was introduced If this guy comes back forty years later as the bad Taliban guy, I’m gonna throw up. Well, he did. Basically, this is a crappy epic movie in books form.
From a cultural standpoint of trauma, I also questioned the book. The boy is traumatized by the relationship with Assef- no doubt, but his trauma reaction is completely western- suicide attempts, silnce, etc. I’m not sure if the sequilae of trauma really unfold this way in a culture where child abuse/buggery is more integrated into /endemic to the culture. That’s not to defend the behavior with a kind of cultural relativism, just that I don’t think you can put an American trauma reaction on an afghan situation.
Monday, January 1, 2007
All the Books: 2006
Dharma Punx – Noah Levine
Although the writing was not great, the story of Noah Levine’s memoir of inner and outer journeys from juvenile hall misery to Buddhist dharma teacher was hard as hell to put down. Levine managed to stitch a series of vignettes into a larger story that did have some real power, and I’m sure having a famous and well-published father didn’t hurt. His writing about the turn toward spirituality, and frank descriptions of self and spiritual doubt were as good reads as the more dramatic tales of punk rock life and pilgrimages across Asia.
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – Jonathon Safran-Foer
I was surprised at how much I enjoyed this novel told from the perspective of a quirky and gifted Manhattan boy after finding “Everything is Illuminated” a bit over-hyped and disappointing. Like the “Dog in the Night-Time” book, EL&IC managed to skirt the perils of sentimentality in spite of its potentially precious sounding premise- a precocious boy on a quest to learn more about his father who died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Fun, funny, poignant and engaging, definitely one of my favorites this year.
Our Inner Ape – Franz De Waal
As a psychologist I found this book by a primate anthropologist who studies Bonobo apes absolutely fascinating. While the chimpanzee is often cited as humanity’s closest cousin, the Bonobo ape is often overlooked as a human cousin. An animal with a very real culture, ability to see the future, feel empathy, express language and other attributes we think of as exclusively human, (not to mention the sex orgies) the book holds up a mirror to humans and provokes some very interesting questions about human social behavior and our biological capacity for kindness and generosity. I found this helpful for thinking about psychology as well as questioning what it is that defines us as uniquely human.
The Wisdom of Crowds – James Surowiecki
I always enjoy Surowiecki’s business page piece in The New Yorker, he makes seemingly dull, dry topics on the cutting edge of the business world accessible and interesting by drawing from psychology and the wider culture. The Wisdom of Crowds however, was taking one idea and really stretching it out far- farther than might have been necessary. Although an interesting thesis about how decisions are made, what makes a good decision and when and how “groupthink” can be a positive or negative, and some thought-provoking psychological and economic studies kept me interested, it ultimately felt stretched a little bit thin. The accounts of group analysis predicting more accurately than individual “experts” about everything from sports to elections to terrorist attacks were particularly interesting, as was the part about the science behind the universal experience of why committees and group projects are so inefficient.
The Dhammapada – Words of the Buddha
This is a phenomenal spiritual text and a great psychological theory and practice. A surprisingly pragmatic approach to life that is as good and relevant now as it was 2500 years ago.
The Tao Te Ching – Lao Tzu
See above. These little aphorisms are a bit more oblique and a little more ancient than the Dhammapada, but a wonderful read in the morning to check out one or two to keep in your mind for the day.
V for Vendetta – Alan Moore
Another one I wanted to be sure to read before seeing the movie. Kept me so occupied that I got a nasty sunburn while reading this one on the beach. Highly relevant to our times as terrorists/freedom fighters fight against a police state/protective government. This was a point that the movie version made a lot more heavy handedly than the book.
One Breath at a Time – Kevin Griffin
I’ve encountered some people who find that this book strays a little too far from the orthodoxy of original Buddhism, but I found this book’s attempt to bridge 12-step recovery and Buddhist principles effective and useful. This is certainly not the first book of its kind, there are four or five others, all of which are recommendable. Griffin structured this one a little differently as a narrative memoir of addiction and recovery that serves as the basic structure. From there he builds his points about the twelve steps and their points of convergence and departure from the Buddhist dharma. This sometimes made for a somewhat stilted presentation, I’d get into the narrative and it would break for exposition or vice-versa, but overall I’d highly recommend this book for anyone interested in addiction, recovery, Buddhism or psychology.
The Quiet American – Graham Greene
This was the first book I read after getting tickets to travel to Vietnam for the summer. The novel, set in 1950’s Vietnam as the French struggle to hold their colonies and the Americans begin to take an interest, is at its most basic level a classic love triangle story. On another, it works as a metaphor for the decline of European empires and the rise of America’s global influence in the Cold War era as two men jockey for the affections of a young Vietnamese woman. The extended metaphor is hardly one-to-one, allowing for nuance in understanding and the beautifully written prose captures the ending era of French colonial Saigon. The plot itself was both moving and gripping, while ultimately quite dark in tone and outlook. A definite read.
In Search of Captain Zero – Allan Weissbecker
A great idea for a book- part surfing memoir, part crazy adventure journey driving south into Central America in search of an old friend, Weisbecker has a great story on his hands but nearly ruins it with his intolerably overwritten prose style. Only true devotees or surfing or adventure travel writing will be able to appreciate the great story buried beneath the language.
The Places That Scare You – Pema Chodron
What can I say, Chodron writes wonderful books that explain the practical application ancient Buddhist (usually Tibetan) practices, for use in everyday human interpersonal or other situations in contemporary times. The Places That Scare You is no exception, though it is far more practice oriented than theoretical or descriptive of concepts as some of her other books are. She delves right into the how-to and why-to of Metta, Maitri and other ancient Tibetan practices that heal both the individual and those around them. Highly recommended.
Bangkok 8 – John Burdett
Bangkok Tattoo – John Burdett
Two great mystery page-turners about Sonchai Jitlecheep a former Buddhist monk turned police detective in contemporary Bangkok. Son of a GI and prostitute, Jitlecheep bombs around the underbelly of Bangkok, investigating murders, corruption and the standard noir novel fare, like a Bangkok Confidential The backdrop includes international criminal syndicates, illegal Burmese Jade/methamphetamine triangle trade, stolen cars and corrupt cops, cheap sex change operations, the local and global sex trades, gender roles, Malaysian terrorists, Buddhism, the Yakuza, and the Vietnam War. Raises the age old question of whether its worse for your Karma to sell and prostitute your mind or your body. Burdett, a British ex-pat, has lived in Southeast Asia for years and has extensively researched the subjects he covers while deftly weaving them into page-turning mysteries. Highly recommended, especially for 23-hour airplane rides to Bangkok.
Don’t Know Much About Mythology – Kenneth Davis
I was a little disappointed in the dryness of the material here, given what a potentially rich subject this is. Maybe it was because I listened to this during rush-hour commutes rather than reading it for pleasure. Still, a decent overview that includes early history of humankind as well as the evolution our myths across time and place.
Will In The World – Stephen Greenblatt
Somewhat disappointing after all that I’d heard and the brilliant basic concept. (Again maybe because I mostly listened and didn’t fully read this one.) A popular history book, Greenblatt offers a biography of William Shakespeare that is told partly through the way events in his personal life, or historical events during his lifetime may have shaped the plays and poems that he penned. Gives wonderful context for the plays that helps to explain what they meant at the time and what they mean now. Definitely recommended for armchair historians and Shakespeare buffs.
Unchained Memories – Lenore Terr MD
The writing in the book was schlocky to the point of ridiculousness, but Lenore Terr does know what she’s talking about when it comes to trauma. Even though the case studies/vignettes were written in the style of a cheap thriller, or “unsolved mysteries” voiceover, they were compelling nonetheless. Terr, a forensic psychiatrist most well known for “Too Scared to Cry” and other research on Chowchilla trauma victims, recounts seven cases she consulted on about recovered memories. These were of horrible trauma, abuse, witnesses to crimes, secondary trauma and the ways and whys that trauma is repressed in conscious memory and is expressed in unconscious ways. A worthwhile read for those with little knowledge of trauma, though maybe a bit sensationalist and simple for psychologists to read.
The Sorrow of War – Bao Ninh
The novel/memoir describes the Vietnam War from the viewpoint of a young soldier in the north, resulting in a sort of Vietnamese “The Things They Carried.” It was banned for years in Vietnam, partly because it so fiercely questioned the point and pursuit of the war, harshly criticizing atrocities committed on all sides. The book was far more of a reflection of the American genre of Vietnam fiction than one would expect. Like the tropes of the American narrative the soldiers drank and drugged to excess, raped and pillaged, hated themselves, lost their innocence and cultivated their cynicism with the propaganda of army and government. Unfortunately, my taste for the sentimental and romantic is limited, and the love story was so treacly to my western taste that I found it cloying, though this is not unusual in the Asian literary tradition. Definitely a worthwhile read for anyone interested in recent American history and the Vietnam War. Particularly fun to read the scenes about escaping from a train while its being bombed while on that very train in Vietnam of course!
The Honourable Schoolboy – John LeCarre
I’m a big LeCarre fan, though have mostly read his more recent books and not so much his early cold-war era books like The Honourable Schoolboy. This was another that was particularly fun to read while traveling around Southeast Asia, where much of the book takes place- hard to believe the vivid descriptions of Phnom Penh under siege as I sat in a Phnom Penh café reading thirty years later. The descriptions of Laos also captured the recent history and wild-west feel of the place that continues today. As for the content of the book, it was a typically well-researched and informed blending of historical events and places with complex psychological characters and an even more complex plot. I’ve noticed in the evolution of his writing that LeCarre’s plots have become somewhat more straightforward and his characters more complex over time, the opposite of his early novels, which felt more plot driven. Amazing to remember how enormously the cold war once loomed and played out across the globe, profoundly shaping (an ending) the lives of millions, and then suddenly over.
Shogun – James Clavell
Again, reading in Tokyo made the book all the more enjoyable. While hardly literature, a bit dated and not so politically correct to the contemporary reader, the book still had great historical exposition woven through the plot. I really felt like I was learning something about world history and culture and not just enjoying a meaty page-turner.
Charlie Wilson’s War –
Nonfiction account of the American backed Mujahideen war in Afghanistan against the Soviet Red Army. Provided enough great details of real-life crazy cloak and dagger intrigue and larger than life (but real!) characters to make it read more like a spy novel than the nonfiction historical account that it was. Fascinating to understand the ways that just one weapon can change the course of history. Another definite read for anyone interested in the cold war or Afghanistan’s recent history.
Don’t Know Much About the Bible – Kenneth Davis
And it’s true, I feel completely embarrassed about my ignorance, and thankfully now less so. I enjoy listening to these types of things on my many drives, and this one was far better than the mythology one. I really felt like I got a much better sense of the bible, its historical context, the cultural and historical reasons for certain interpretations, where the book stands in the continuity of other religious texts that came before and after. I hardly feel qualified to comment much on the bible, but I do feel much better informed for engaging in debates about religion, which was my primary goal in listening to this book.
A Short History of Mythology : Karen Armstrong
This was a little disappointing after enjoying many of her other books so much, perhaps it just didn’t go into enough detail about the myths that it covered, though the connections between classical Middle Eastern / Babylonian mythology and the Bible were quite interesting. A short read, but I didn’t feel like I walked away with much more than what I had going in.
See No Evil - Robert Baer
A great follow-up read to Charlie Wilson’s War, this was another thrilling nonfiction spy account. This is Robert Baer’s memoir of his time in the CIA, from recruitment in the 1970’s through the present and provided the (very loose) basis for the movie Syriana. Baer details some of his training, the history of the agency and his time spent in Beirut, India, Russia, Kurdish Iraq and elsewhere. I did wonder a little about his political motives, which were very anti-Clinton and anti-Iran, and also wondered what the book would be like if published now in the mess that is Iraq, rather than the run-up to war. In spite of the politics toward the end, it was a great read for the first three-quarters, with amazing anecdotes about cold war era CIA escapades in all corners of the globe.
Stumbling on Happiness – Daniel Gilbert
This was kind of another in the Daniel Goleman/ Malcolm Gladwell mold of semi-popular psychology. Gilbert, a harvard psychologist, explores what makes people happy and social beings, utilizing recent studies about mirror neurons, delayed gratification, anticipation, fear/regret, and other “hip,” oft-cited and unique social psychology studies. Very informative, though not a lot of new ground for the well read or armchair psychologist.
The Anatomy of Hope – Jerome Groopman
I always enjoys Groopman’s health and medicine related articles in the New Yorker, so was moderately disappointed by his full-length book. I found the writing somewhat arrogant, though was able to ignore it and get engaged in the stories and studies that he used to illustrate the ways people cope with cancer. Definitely worth a read for anyone with an interest in health psychology as it makes accessible a number of the main principles of this subdiscipline of psychology where it intersects with medicine and bodily healing. Being an MD- an oncologist at that- Groopman wastes no time on flakey or trendy miracle cures, instead citing real science whether it gives us pretty answers or not.
The Mission Song – John LeCarre
The latest LeCarre, and like his last novel, a bit disappointing. Definitely more political and conspiratorial (and more obvious) feeling than some of his earlier books and far from his best. Better than Absolute Friends, and some good characters and early well researched exposition about African post-colonial politics, culture and history, but nothing that really stuck with me.
Holy War Inc. – Peter Bergman
A great introduction to the world of Al-Qaeda, and the ways that it uniquely utilizes technology to its advantage. This differentiates it from other anti-modern strains of Islamism (or religious / cultural fundamentalism) like the Taliban. Not a lot in here that was new to me, but I’m a bit of a nerd about this stuff. Still, an accessible and nice summary, history with some solid theories about Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda.
Little Children – Tom Perrotta
Yes, there is now a movie. I wanted to read the book first as I’ve enjoyed Tom Perotta’s other novels, which, while not heavy literature, are a pleasure to read. He’s kind of like an American Nick Hornby- writing stories about finding masculinity and relationships in one’s 20’s and 30’s while making solid observations about human weaknesses. Takes place in suburban Boston, the well-sketched story of couples struggling with children, commitments and community hysteria. Less boring than a book about the suburbs sounds. Similar to, but less nasty, than other suburban satires.
Jerusalem: One City, Three Faiths – Karen Armstrong
A rich and comprehensive history of the city from pre-Judaic times through the present. Does what good history does best, remind us how situations that may intractable in the immediate future always change over time. Takes the reader through conquests and dominance by various faiths and ethnic groups, some bloody, some peaceful. Left me feeling far more hopeful about the capacity for change and peace in a place holy to so many people the world over. A strong word of caution at the end that the longest lasting rulers of the city were the most tolerant of all the city’s faiths.
A Death In Belmont – Sebastian Junger
I read this mainly because I’ll read anything by a fellow Wesleyan graduate, which is not a particularly good reason. Ostensibly about the Boston Strangler case and Junger’s strange connection to it (The strangler worked as a handyman for his family) the book does paint a nuanced picture of racial politics and American culture in the 1970’s that is the best part of what would otherwise be a ho-hum true crime book. Some of the psychology parts were also interesting, to see both how much and how little we’ve progressed in understanding psychopathy in the last thirty years, and therefore worth a read for all you forensic psychology people out there.
An Unquiet Mind – Kay Redfield Jamison
I enjoyed this book far more than I thought I would, as I’m often skeptical about the genre of the mental illness memoir. Jamison is a psychologist and researcher, who writes a clear and refreshingly understated memoir of her own lifelong struggle with bipolar disorder. This is definitely recommended to anyone seeking greater understanding about bipolar disorder and mental illness from a personal and clinical perspective.
Pledged, The Secret Life of Sororities – Alexandra Robbins
I’m really not sure what possessed me to read this, or to continue reading it once I’d started. I’ll say this, if you have preconceived notions of sorority women as overly conformist, bullying, promiscuous, superficial, alcoholic, bulimic, superficial and catty, this book isn’t about to change your mind. It was kind of just nauseatingly depressing from start to finish, and I felt like taking a shower to feel clean afterwards.
SO: This years top recommendations:
Best Novels: Quiet American, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
Best Page Turners: The Bangkok 8 Books
Best Memoirs: Dharma Punx, An Unquiet Mind
Best Nonfiction (Cultural/Historical): Jerusalem: Three Faiths, One City
Best Nonfiction: (Science/ Psychology): Our Inner Ape, The Anatomy Of Hope
Best Nonfiction: (Spirituality): One Breath At A Time, Dhammapada, Places That Scare You
Although the writing was not great, the story of Noah Levine’s memoir of inner and outer journeys from juvenile hall misery to Buddhist dharma teacher was hard as hell to put down. Levine managed to stitch a series of vignettes into a larger story that did have some real power, and I’m sure having a famous and well-published father didn’t hurt. His writing about the turn toward spirituality, and frank descriptions of self and spiritual doubt were as good reads as the more dramatic tales of punk rock life and pilgrimages across Asia.
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – Jonathon Safran-Foer
I was surprised at how much I enjoyed this novel told from the perspective of a quirky and gifted Manhattan boy after finding “Everything is Illuminated” a bit over-hyped and disappointing. Like the “Dog in the Night-Time” book, EL&IC managed to skirt the perils of sentimentality in spite of its potentially precious sounding premise- a precocious boy on a quest to learn more about his father who died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Fun, funny, poignant and engaging, definitely one of my favorites this year.
Our Inner Ape – Franz De Waal
As a psychologist I found this book by a primate anthropologist who studies Bonobo apes absolutely fascinating. While the chimpanzee is often cited as humanity’s closest cousin, the Bonobo ape is often overlooked as a human cousin. An animal with a very real culture, ability to see the future, feel empathy, express language and other attributes we think of as exclusively human, (not to mention the sex orgies) the book holds up a mirror to humans and provokes some very interesting questions about human social behavior and our biological capacity for kindness and generosity. I found this helpful for thinking about psychology as well as questioning what it is that defines us as uniquely human.
The Wisdom of Crowds – James Surowiecki
I always enjoy Surowiecki’s business page piece in The New Yorker, he makes seemingly dull, dry topics on the cutting edge of the business world accessible and interesting by drawing from psychology and the wider culture. The Wisdom of Crowds however, was taking one idea and really stretching it out far- farther than might have been necessary. Although an interesting thesis about how decisions are made, what makes a good decision and when and how “groupthink” can be a positive or negative, and some thought-provoking psychological and economic studies kept me interested, it ultimately felt stretched a little bit thin. The accounts of group analysis predicting more accurately than individual “experts” about everything from sports to elections to terrorist attacks were particularly interesting, as was the part about the science behind the universal experience of why committees and group projects are so inefficient.
The Dhammapada – Words of the Buddha
This is a phenomenal spiritual text and a great psychological theory and practice. A surprisingly pragmatic approach to life that is as good and relevant now as it was 2500 years ago.
The Tao Te Ching – Lao Tzu
See above. These little aphorisms are a bit more oblique and a little more ancient than the Dhammapada, but a wonderful read in the morning to check out one or two to keep in your mind for the day.
V for Vendetta – Alan Moore
Another one I wanted to be sure to read before seeing the movie. Kept me so occupied that I got a nasty sunburn while reading this one on the beach. Highly relevant to our times as terrorists/freedom fighters fight against a police state/protective government. This was a point that the movie version made a lot more heavy handedly than the book.
One Breath at a Time – Kevin Griffin
I’ve encountered some people who find that this book strays a little too far from the orthodoxy of original Buddhism, but I found this book’s attempt to bridge 12-step recovery and Buddhist principles effective and useful. This is certainly not the first book of its kind, there are four or five others, all of which are recommendable. Griffin structured this one a little differently as a narrative memoir of addiction and recovery that serves as the basic structure. From there he builds his points about the twelve steps and their points of convergence and departure from the Buddhist dharma. This sometimes made for a somewhat stilted presentation, I’d get into the narrative and it would break for exposition or vice-versa, but overall I’d highly recommend this book for anyone interested in addiction, recovery, Buddhism or psychology.
The Quiet American – Graham Greene
This was the first book I read after getting tickets to travel to Vietnam for the summer. The novel, set in 1950’s Vietnam as the French struggle to hold their colonies and the Americans begin to take an interest, is at its most basic level a classic love triangle story. On another, it works as a metaphor for the decline of European empires and the rise of America’s global influence in the Cold War era as two men jockey for the affections of a young Vietnamese woman. The extended metaphor is hardly one-to-one, allowing for nuance in understanding and the beautifully written prose captures the ending era of French colonial Saigon. The plot itself was both moving and gripping, while ultimately quite dark in tone and outlook. A definite read.
In Search of Captain Zero – Allan Weissbecker
A great idea for a book- part surfing memoir, part crazy adventure journey driving south into Central America in search of an old friend, Weisbecker has a great story on his hands but nearly ruins it with his intolerably overwritten prose style. Only true devotees or surfing or adventure travel writing will be able to appreciate the great story buried beneath the language.
The Places That Scare You – Pema Chodron
What can I say, Chodron writes wonderful books that explain the practical application ancient Buddhist (usually Tibetan) practices, for use in everyday human interpersonal or other situations in contemporary times. The Places That Scare You is no exception, though it is far more practice oriented than theoretical or descriptive of concepts as some of her other books are. She delves right into the how-to and why-to of Metta, Maitri and other ancient Tibetan practices that heal both the individual and those around them. Highly recommended.
Bangkok 8 – John Burdett
Bangkok Tattoo – John Burdett
Two great mystery page-turners about Sonchai Jitlecheep a former Buddhist monk turned police detective in contemporary Bangkok. Son of a GI and prostitute, Jitlecheep bombs around the underbelly of Bangkok, investigating murders, corruption and the standard noir novel fare, like a Bangkok Confidential The backdrop includes international criminal syndicates, illegal Burmese Jade/methamphetamine triangle trade, stolen cars and corrupt cops, cheap sex change operations, the local and global sex trades, gender roles, Malaysian terrorists, Buddhism, the Yakuza, and the Vietnam War. Raises the age old question of whether its worse for your Karma to sell and prostitute your mind or your body. Burdett, a British ex-pat, has lived in Southeast Asia for years and has extensively researched the subjects he covers while deftly weaving them into page-turning mysteries. Highly recommended, especially for 23-hour airplane rides to Bangkok.
Don’t Know Much About Mythology – Kenneth Davis
I was a little disappointed in the dryness of the material here, given what a potentially rich subject this is. Maybe it was because I listened to this during rush-hour commutes rather than reading it for pleasure. Still, a decent overview that includes early history of humankind as well as the evolution our myths across time and place.
Will In The World – Stephen Greenblatt
Somewhat disappointing after all that I’d heard and the brilliant basic concept. (Again maybe because I mostly listened and didn’t fully read this one.) A popular history book, Greenblatt offers a biography of William Shakespeare that is told partly through the way events in his personal life, or historical events during his lifetime may have shaped the plays and poems that he penned. Gives wonderful context for the plays that helps to explain what they meant at the time and what they mean now. Definitely recommended for armchair historians and Shakespeare buffs.
Unchained Memories – Lenore Terr MD
The writing in the book was schlocky to the point of ridiculousness, but Lenore Terr does know what she’s talking about when it comes to trauma. Even though the case studies/vignettes were written in the style of a cheap thriller, or “unsolved mysteries” voiceover, they were compelling nonetheless. Terr, a forensic psychiatrist most well known for “Too Scared to Cry” and other research on Chowchilla trauma victims, recounts seven cases she consulted on about recovered memories. These were of horrible trauma, abuse, witnesses to crimes, secondary trauma and the ways and whys that trauma is repressed in conscious memory and is expressed in unconscious ways. A worthwhile read for those with little knowledge of trauma, though maybe a bit sensationalist and simple for psychologists to read.
The Sorrow of War – Bao Ninh
The novel/memoir describes the Vietnam War from the viewpoint of a young soldier in the north, resulting in a sort of Vietnamese “The Things They Carried.” It was banned for years in Vietnam, partly because it so fiercely questioned the point and pursuit of the war, harshly criticizing atrocities committed on all sides. The book was far more of a reflection of the American genre of Vietnam fiction than one would expect. Like the tropes of the American narrative the soldiers drank and drugged to excess, raped and pillaged, hated themselves, lost their innocence and cultivated their cynicism with the propaganda of army and government. Unfortunately, my taste for the sentimental and romantic is limited, and the love story was so treacly to my western taste that I found it cloying, though this is not unusual in the Asian literary tradition. Definitely a worthwhile read for anyone interested in recent American history and the Vietnam War. Particularly fun to read the scenes about escaping from a train while its being bombed while on that very train in Vietnam of course!
The Honourable Schoolboy – John LeCarre
I’m a big LeCarre fan, though have mostly read his more recent books and not so much his early cold-war era books like The Honourable Schoolboy. This was another that was particularly fun to read while traveling around Southeast Asia, where much of the book takes place- hard to believe the vivid descriptions of Phnom Penh under siege as I sat in a Phnom Penh café reading thirty years later. The descriptions of Laos also captured the recent history and wild-west feel of the place that continues today. As for the content of the book, it was a typically well-researched and informed blending of historical events and places with complex psychological characters and an even more complex plot. I’ve noticed in the evolution of his writing that LeCarre’s plots have become somewhat more straightforward and his characters more complex over time, the opposite of his early novels, which felt more plot driven. Amazing to remember how enormously the cold war once loomed and played out across the globe, profoundly shaping (an ending) the lives of millions, and then suddenly over.
Shogun – James Clavell
Again, reading in Tokyo made the book all the more enjoyable. While hardly literature, a bit dated and not so politically correct to the contemporary reader, the book still had great historical exposition woven through the plot. I really felt like I was learning something about world history and culture and not just enjoying a meaty page-turner.
Charlie Wilson’s War –
Nonfiction account of the American backed Mujahideen war in Afghanistan against the Soviet Red Army. Provided enough great details of real-life crazy cloak and dagger intrigue and larger than life (but real!) characters to make it read more like a spy novel than the nonfiction historical account that it was. Fascinating to understand the ways that just one weapon can change the course of history. Another definite read for anyone interested in the cold war or Afghanistan’s recent history.
Don’t Know Much About the Bible – Kenneth Davis
And it’s true, I feel completely embarrassed about my ignorance, and thankfully now less so. I enjoy listening to these types of things on my many drives, and this one was far better than the mythology one. I really felt like I got a much better sense of the bible, its historical context, the cultural and historical reasons for certain interpretations, where the book stands in the continuity of other religious texts that came before and after. I hardly feel qualified to comment much on the bible, but I do feel much better informed for engaging in debates about religion, which was my primary goal in listening to this book.
A Short History of Mythology : Karen Armstrong
This was a little disappointing after enjoying many of her other books so much, perhaps it just didn’t go into enough detail about the myths that it covered, though the connections between classical Middle Eastern / Babylonian mythology and the Bible were quite interesting. A short read, but I didn’t feel like I walked away with much more than what I had going in.
See No Evil - Robert Baer
A great follow-up read to Charlie Wilson’s War, this was another thrilling nonfiction spy account. This is Robert Baer’s memoir of his time in the CIA, from recruitment in the 1970’s through the present and provided the (very loose) basis for the movie Syriana. Baer details some of his training, the history of the agency and his time spent in Beirut, India, Russia, Kurdish Iraq and elsewhere. I did wonder a little about his political motives, which were very anti-Clinton and anti-Iran, and also wondered what the book would be like if published now in the mess that is Iraq, rather than the run-up to war. In spite of the politics toward the end, it was a great read for the first three-quarters, with amazing anecdotes about cold war era CIA escapades in all corners of the globe.
Stumbling on Happiness – Daniel Gilbert
This was kind of another in the Daniel Goleman/ Malcolm Gladwell mold of semi-popular psychology. Gilbert, a harvard psychologist, explores what makes people happy and social beings, utilizing recent studies about mirror neurons, delayed gratification, anticipation, fear/regret, and other “hip,” oft-cited and unique social psychology studies. Very informative, though not a lot of new ground for the well read or armchair psychologist.
The Anatomy of Hope – Jerome Groopman
I always enjoys Groopman’s health and medicine related articles in the New Yorker, so was moderately disappointed by his full-length book. I found the writing somewhat arrogant, though was able to ignore it and get engaged in the stories and studies that he used to illustrate the ways people cope with cancer. Definitely worth a read for anyone with an interest in health psychology as it makes accessible a number of the main principles of this subdiscipline of psychology where it intersects with medicine and bodily healing. Being an MD- an oncologist at that- Groopman wastes no time on flakey or trendy miracle cures, instead citing real science whether it gives us pretty answers or not.
The Mission Song – John LeCarre
The latest LeCarre, and like his last novel, a bit disappointing. Definitely more political and conspiratorial (and more obvious) feeling than some of his earlier books and far from his best. Better than Absolute Friends, and some good characters and early well researched exposition about African post-colonial politics, culture and history, but nothing that really stuck with me.
Holy War Inc. – Peter Bergman
A great introduction to the world of Al-Qaeda, and the ways that it uniquely utilizes technology to its advantage. This differentiates it from other anti-modern strains of Islamism (or religious / cultural fundamentalism) like the Taliban. Not a lot in here that was new to me, but I’m a bit of a nerd about this stuff. Still, an accessible and nice summary, history with some solid theories about Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda.
Little Children – Tom Perrotta
Yes, there is now a movie. I wanted to read the book first as I’ve enjoyed Tom Perotta’s other novels, which, while not heavy literature, are a pleasure to read. He’s kind of like an American Nick Hornby- writing stories about finding masculinity and relationships in one’s 20’s and 30’s while making solid observations about human weaknesses. Takes place in suburban Boston, the well-sketched story of couples struggling with children, commitments and community hysteria. Less boring than a book about the suburbs sounds. Similar to, but less nasty, than other suburban satires.
Jerusalem: One City, Three Faiths – Karen Armstrong
A rich and comprehensive history of the city from pre-Judaic times through the present. Does what good history does best, remind us how situations that may intractable in the immediate future always change over time. Takes the reader through conquests and dominance by various faiths and ethnic groups, some bloody, some peaceful. Left me feeling far more hopeful about the capacity for change and peace in a place holy to so many people the world over. A strong word of caution at the end that the longest lasting rulers of the city were the most tolerant of all the city’s faiths.
A Death In Belmont – Sebastian Junger
I read this mainly because I’ll read anything by a fellow Wesleyan graduate, which is not a particularly good reason. Ostensibly about the Boston Strangler case and Junger’s strange connection to it (The strangler worked as a handyman for his family) the book does paint a nuanced picture of racial politics and American culture in the 1970’s that is the best part of what would otherwise be a ho-hum true crime book. Some of the psychology parts were also interesting, to see both how much and how little we’ve progressed in understanding psychopathy in the last thirty years, and therefore worth a read for all you forensic psychology people out there.
An Unquiet Mind – Kay Redfield Jamison
I enjoyed this book far more than I thought I would, as I’m often skeptical about the genre of the mental illness memoir. Jamison is a psychologist and researcher, who writes a clear and refreshingly understated memoir of her own lifelong struggle with bipolar disorder. This is definitely recommended to anyone seeking greater understanding about bipolar disorder and mental illness from a personal and clinical perspective.
Pledged, The Secret Life of Sororities – Alexandra Robbins
I’m really not sure what possessed me to read this, or to continue reading it once I’d started. I’ll say this, if you have preconceived notions of sorority women as overly conformist, bullying, promiscuous, superficial, alcoholic, bulimic, superficial and catty, this book isn’t about to change your mind. It was kind of just nauseatingly depressing from start to finish, and I felt like taking a shower to feel clean afterwards.
SO: This years top recommendations:
Best Novels: Quiet American, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
Best Page Turners: The Bangkok 8 Books
Best Memoirs: Dharma Punx, An Unquiet Mind
Best Nonfiction (Cultural/Historical): Jerusalem: Three Faiths, One City
Best Nonfiction: (Science/ Psychology): Our Inner Ape, The Anatomy Of Hope
Best Nonfiction: (Spirituality): One Breath At A Time, Dhammapada, Places That Scare You
Thursday, August 10, 2006
PDR LaoLao
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Back in BKK
Back now in Bangkok to regroup before the Tokyo acid trip. Bangkok suddenly feels homey and comfortable, rather than exotic, foreign and overwhelming as it did when we first arrived. Spent the afternoon finshing errands, buying snacks so we don't starve in Tokyo, and a surprising amount of time on Khao San Road, hippei backpacker hell. Its like Haight-Ashbury, Bourbon Street and Chinatown in a blender, with five dollar tourist flophouses above it. Last chance for anyone to place their orders for "used" backpacks, cheap pharmaceuticals available without prescription and anything bootlegged you could want. Noted a few more errant monks as well getting cash out of the ATM and even smoking cigarettes- none that were pimps, but then we never made it to the red light district. Still the insane "I Love the King" shirts on every third person you walk by, and king posters and billboards everywhere you look. These people seem more royal-crazy than the british tabloids.
Was really ready to get home by the end of Vietnam, but now suddenly sad for the trip to be ending, and ready for a few more adventures. Don't know how much writing I'll be able to do from Tokyo, so look forward to seeing and talking to you all come monday!
Monday, August 07, 2006
Yes, Virginia, Laos is a real country.
Luang Phabang, in the People's Democratic Republic of Laos is nothing short of amazing. We arrived at night, and so didnt see the beauty of the place until daylight the next morning. The former royal capital of Laos, its a town at a bend in the Mekong where the river meets a tributary, making the town itself almost an island, nestled in a valley of jungled mountains and cliffs rising from the rivers. The architecture is a blend of French Colonial, traditional laotian and vietnamese, with a heavy dose of royal architecture as well. There are also dozens of Wats (temples) at least a few on every block of the small town, making it even more beautiful with their flowing red roofs and golden trim. A more gentle flowing architecture than those of thailand. The streets are beautifully lined with small silk shops and stalls selling local laotion wares, and brick paved alleyways cut through wooden houses bursting with flowers, almost all with a view of the quiet mekong against the mountains. Our guesthouse, xieng moung or something, was an old french villa with a lovely porch over a courtyard with tropical birds, hanging orchids and lotus birdbaths. Much classier than our usual flophouses, and not much pricier.
Spent the first day exploring the wats, and town. Everywhere you look are the saffron monk robes out of the corner of your eye, bright against the whitewashed walls of the town. There must be hundreds of monks between all the temples, who are even more noticeable in such a small town. The romantic idea some of us westerners have about the monks is givena reality check here. First, most of the monks appear to be elementary to high school aged, not the college age and older that they are in Thailand and Cambodia. Seems to be like going to catholic school. Constantly see them handling money, eating after noon and breaking various other rules. Even saw a gang of toughs and monks hanging out by a temple entrance at night and trying to sell me ganja!
At the center of town is a small mountain, hill really, which we hiked for sunset views. There are multiple temples, shrines, stupas and statues on the way up, and a large stupa at the top with stunning views of the town, river and region.
Booked a boat with our usually opium-nodding guesthouse attendant to see the pal ou grottoes up the river in the morning. The boat ride was lovely, hardly another boat on the river, and a few hour trip with only the occasional stilt house set on the steep clay banks of the river. Very "Apocalypse Now." The caves are a pair of old grottoes where buddhas and other icons that can no longer be used are stored. You approach from the water, after a half submerged and breaking bamboo dock, where some stairs lead up to the first cave, filled with amazing ancient rotting and rusting buddha figures resting serenely amonst the rocks and stalagmites. The second cave is further up. Wrought iron doors are set into a cliffside, like something out of Tolkien's Middle Earth. Entering the deeper cave you need a flashlight to explore the depths, viewing a statue here, a sculpture there in the eerie sliver of artificial light. Very spooky, very cool, really felt like an Indiana Jones movie, and I'll leave the multiple pop-culture and film references at that.
Came back to explore the night market a bit, silk and t-shirts the name of the game mostly, though I did find an old book of the dhamapada written on palm leaves and a legit antique. More shopping opportunities again than we planned, though we were a bit better restrained this time. They have great t-shirts, and seem to put their kids to work selling and weaving like its nothing- guess that explains the child labor issues in other parts of the world- they're just already culturally used to it, used to and expected to help out the family by working. The laos people also do a funny thing where they tap all the goods at their stall with the money after you buy something for good luck. Money is a pain, as the largest bill here is 2000 kip, or 2$, which makes you feel like a real big shot when you change 80$ or so at the bank.
Following day spent the morning exploring the local market, which was less interesting than we had hoped, mostly just cheap chinese knockoffs and fly-ridden meats, with the occasional person trying to pull aside aside to covertly offer opium to us. (We are at the bottom tip of the notorious golden triangle, and Laos the third biggest opium producing country in the world.) Afternoon we crossed the river to explore some abandoned wats, with monks occasionally letting us into the temples they were guarding for a minor bribe. Some are alleged to be haunted, and the locals steer clear, and they were very nicely untouristed and quite serene in their isolation and crumbling glory. The villages were also quiet and pleasant to explore, a few bird-flu chickens running around and children playing bocce, or the local variant- flip-flocce, a term coined genuisly by Olivia. Couldnt really explore much off-road here in Laos, due to all the unexploded bombs, but some damn good stuff to see in the mostly abandoned temples and streets. A pleasant walk home down the ancient streets with the sounds of monks chanting to accompany our stroll to the guesthouse.
Currently reading :
Shogun
By James Clavell
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Falang-A-Lang-A-Lang
Vientiane...
We abandoned our few pennies of vietnamese money at the airport in a box in Hanoi marked "Charity for extremely difficult children" which seemed like a worthy cause, if not the most impressive use of english. Anyway, the flight into Laos was beautiful, Soviet turboprop "airplane" aside, and I imagined the years of bombers wreaking havoc on the countryside with the same view I had form the plane. Laos is the most heavily bombed country in the world, with more bombs dropped in the 1960's that on all of europe combined in WWII. It also seems to have a history of being a backwater that is just taken over by other powers. Well, they beat the US and now have their own People's Democratic Republic, and its a pretty damn nice little country, and I do mean little. The Vientiane (capital city) airport was smaller than the Providence Airport- smaller than the Providence bus station even. I was expecting a mini Phnom Penh, and we got a pleasant, if more boring surprise with a quiet little place at a bend on the Mekong. The city seems to be one grand French boulevard, with a mini arc de triomphe, and then off of the boulevard are literally are dirt roads. Strangely, unlike every other country, there are actually stoplights. Its also a bit like walking right into 1975- ancient toyotas and datsuns abound, a few vw bugs and even a few out of place old Ford Galaxies. Occasionally you see a new toyota land cruiser (3rd world beaurocrats favorite car) or new pickup truck that belongs to an NGO.
Had a great lunch next to the Mekong, looking out over Thailand across the river as we ate some papaya salad and succulently sweet ribs that were cooked on a pit next to us by a lao family. Dinner was a wonderful french restaurant, and our most expensive meal to date as we ate $5 steak au herbes de provence, and a pizza that actually tasted like pizza. The chocolate mousse wasnt bad either. Next day we had a prix-fixe lunch of western food at another good french place before we left town. The city itself was tiny, and it took no time at all on our rented bicycles to see the sights, and visit the Wats (temples) which truly were beautiful, especially after the Vietnamese Pagodas which were much less interesting architecturally. Anyway, Vientiane was tiny, and amazing to think of the place overrun with spies in the 70's, you would need about two spies to overrun the place as it was pretty obvious who was not a local. How wonderful to be in a quiet place after Vietnam, where you couldnt even walk down the street or sidewalk because it was so crowded with motos and people. Hadnt realized how stressful and claustrophobic the crowds and culture Vietnam had become after a few weeks until we arrived in Laos.
Back in BKK
Back now in Bangkok to regroup before the Tokyo acid trip. Bangkok suddenly feels homey and comfortable, rather than exotic, foreign and overwhelming as it did when we first arrived. Spent the afternoon finshing errands, buying snacks so we don't starve in Tokyo, and a surprising amount of time on Khao San Road, hippei backpacker hell. Its like Haight-Ashbury, Bourbon Street and Chinatown in a blender, with five dollar tourist flophouses above it. Last chance for anyone to place their orders for "used" backpacks, cheap pharmaceuticals available without prescription and anything bootlegged you could want. Noted a few more errant monks as well getting cash out of the ATM and even smoking cigarettes- none that were pimps, but then we never made it to the red light district. Still the insane "I Love the King" shirts on every third person you walk by, and king posters and billboards everywhere you look. These people seem more royal-crazy than the british tabloids.
Was really ready to get home by the end of Vietnam, but now suddenly sad for the trip to be ending, and ready for a few more adventures. Don't know how much writing I'll be able to do from Tokyo, so look forward to seeing and talking to you all come monday!
Monday, August 07, 2006
Yes, Virginia, Laos is a real country.
Luang Phabang, in the People's Democratic Republic of Laos is nothing short of amazing. We arrived at night, and so didnt see the beauty of the place until daylight the next morning. The former royal capital of Laos, its a town at a bend in the Mekong where the river meets a tributary, making the town itself almost an island, nestled in a valley of jungled mountains and cliffs rising from the rivers. The architecture is a blend of French Colonial, traditional laotian and vietnamese, with a heavy dose of royal architecture as well. There are also dozens of Wats (temples) at least a few on every block of the small town, making it even more beautiful with their flowing red roofs and golden trim. A more gentle flowing architecture than those of thailand. The streets are beautifully lined with small silk shops and stalls selling local laotion wares, and brick paved alleyways cut through wooden houses bursting with flowers, almost all with a view of the quiet mekong against the mountains. Our guesthouse, xieng moung or something, was an old french villa with a lovely porch over a courtyard with tropical birds, hanging orchids and lotus birdbaths. Much classier than our usual flophouses, and not much pricier.
Spent the first day exploring the wats, and town. Everywhere you look are the saffron monk robes out of the corner of your eye, bright against the whitewashed walls of the town. There must be hundreds of monks between all the temples, who are even more noticeable in such a small town. The romantic idea some of us westerners have about the monks is givena reality check here. First, most of the monks appear to be elementary to high school aged, not the college age and older that they are in Thailand and Cambodia. Seems to be like going to catholic school. Constantly see them handling money, eating after noon and breaking various other rules. Even saw a gang of toughs and monks hanging out by a temple entrance at night and trying to sell me ganja!
At the center of town is a small mountain, hill really, which we hiked for sunset views. There are multiple temples, shrines, stupas and statues on the way up, and a large stupa at the top with stunning views of the town, river and region.
Booked a boat with our usually opium-nodding guesthouse attendant to see the pal ou grottoes up the river in the morning. The boat ride was lovely, hardly another boat on the river, and a few hour trip with only the occasional stilt house set on the steep clay banks of the river. Very "Apocalypse Now." The caves are a pair of old grottoes where buddhas and other icons that can no longer be used are stored. You approach from the water, after a half submerged and breaking bamboo dock, where some stairs lead up to the first cave, filled with amazing ancient rotting and rusting buddha figures resting serenely amonst the rocks and stalagmites. The second cave is further up. Wrought iron doors are set into a cliffside, like something out of Tolkien's Middle Earth. Entering the deeper cave you need a flashlight to explore the depths, viewing a statue here, a sculpture there in the eerie sliver of artificial light. Very spooky, very cool, really felt like an Indiana Jones movie, and I'll leave the multiple pop-culture and film references at that.
Came back to explore the night market a bit, silk and t-shirts the name of the game mostly, though I did find an old book of the dhamapada written on palm leaves and a legit antique. More shopping opportunities again than we planned, though we were a bit better restrained this time. They have great t-shirts, and seem to put their kids to work selling and weaving like its nothing- guess that explains the child labor issues in other parts of the world- they're just already culturally used to it, used to and expected to help out the family by working. The laos people also do a funny thing where they tap all the goods at their stall with the money after you buy something for good luck. Money is a pain, as the largest bill here is 2000 kip, or 2$, which makes you feel like a real big shot when you change 80$ or so at the bank.
Following day spent the morning exploring the local market, which was less interesting than we had hoped, mostly just cheap chinese knockoffs and fly-ridden meats, with the occasional person trying to pull aside aside to covertly offer opium to us. (We are at the bottom tip of the notorious golden triangle, and Laos the third biggest opium producing country in the world.) Afternoon we crossed the river to explore some abandoned wats, with monks occasionally letting us into the temples they were guarding for a minor bribe. Some are alleged to be haunted, and the locals steer clear, and they were very nicely untouristed and quite serene in their isolation and crumbling glory. The villages were also quiet and pleasant to explore, a few bird-flu chickens running around and children playing bocce, or the local variant- flip-flocce, a term coined genuisly by Olivia. Couldnt really explore much off-road here in Laos, due to all the unexploded bombs, but some damn good stuff to see in the mostly abandoned temples and streets. A pleasant walk home down the ancient streets with the sounds of monks chanting to accompany our stroll to the guesthouse.
Currently reading :
Shogun
By James Clavell
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Falang-A-Lang-A-Lang
Vientiane...
We abandoned our few pennies of vietnamese money at the airport in a box in Hanoi marked "Charity for extremely difficult children" which seemed like a worthy cause, if not the most impressive use of english. Anyway, the flight into Laos was beautiful, Soviet turboprop "airplane" aside, and I imagined the years of bombers wreaking havoc on the countryside with the same view I had form the plane. Laos is the most heavily bombed country in the world, with more bombs dropped in the 1960's that on all of europe combined in WWII. It also seems to have a history of being a backwater that is just taken over by other powers. Well, they beat the US and now have their own People's Democratic Republic, and its a pretty damn nice little country, and I do mean little. The Vientiane (capital city) airport was smaller than the Providence Airport- smaller than the Providence bus station even. I was expecting a mini Phnom Penh, and we got a pleasant, if more boring surprise with a quiet little place at a bend on the Mekong. The city seems to be one grand French boulevard, with a mini arc de triomphe, and then off of the boulevard are literally are dirt roads. Strangely, unlike every other country, there are actually stoplights. Its also a bit like walking right into 1975- ancient toyotas and datsuns abound, a few vw bugs and even a few out of place old Ford Galaxies. Occasionally you see a new toyota land cruiser (3rd world beaurocrats favorite car) or new pickup truck that belongs to an NGO.
Had a great lunch next to the Mekong, looking out over Thailand across the river as we ate some papaya salad and succulently sweet ribs that were cooked on a pit next to us by a lao family. Dinner was a wonderful french restaurant, and our most expensive meal to date as we ate $5 steak au herbes de provence, and a pizza that actually tasted like pizza. The chocolate mousse wasnt bad either. Next day we had a prix-fixe lunch of western food at another good french place before we left town. The city itself was tiny, and it took no time at all on our rented bicycles to see the sights, and visit the Wats (temples) which truly were beautiful, especially after the Vietnamese Pagodas which were much less interesting architecturally. Anyway, Vientiane was tiny, and amazing to think of the place overrun with spies in the 70's, you would need about two spies to overrun the place as it was pretty obvious who was not a local. How wonderful to be in a quiet place after Vietnam, where you couldnt even walk down the street or sidewalk because it was so crowded with motos and people. Hadnt realized how stressful and claustrophobic the crowds and culture Vietnam had become after a few weeks until we arrived in Laos.
Friday, August 4, 2006
NVA Irregular
Craven "A"
This is actually the brand name of the cigarettes in Vietnam. Tempting, isnt it? Anyway, here are a few disjointed, rambling observations about Vietnamese culture...
The culture, in spite of all the english speaking and fancier cell phones than we have, is still very foreign. The women wash the restaurant dishes in the streets and tend the shops and hotels while the men tinker with their motorbikes and occasionally do real work. The men also have inch long thumb and pinkie nails, for what purpose I have no idea. Women also seem to be always doing some strange calisthenics in the insanely -topiaried parks at night (the regulated economy gotta employ everybody here), while the men play badminton constantly on any street or sidewalk they can find. The men and women also seem never to interact, and the women seem to work, so the men can "study" though they are mostly seen lounging around on their motos. I even see them sleep on the motos! Women actually wear the conical straw hats, and here in Hanoi anyway, the men all wear green pith helmets to complement their various bootlegged designer gear (plyboy, abercrombie and finch, crocodile, etc. My personal favorite are the items like backpacks that are both nike AND north face). Everyone actually spends their time squatting, even the infants seem to learn how to squat before they can stand or walk. We also must be near a bag factory because everywhere you look there are Ikea bags, and I have yet to see any ikea furniture anywhere. The buddhism is less apparent than in Thailand and Cambodia, almost no monks, though I did see a few- one even wearing the brown robes and wool hat that is recognizable in well-known monks like Thich Nhat Hanh. They practice Mahayana, not Theravada Buddhism, which might just be more subtle outwardly than the wear it on their sleeve religiousity of the other countries, though they still all have shrines inside their houses. Apparently all the religions, Catholic, Muslim, Cao Dai and Buddhist here engage in ancestor worship of some sort which I dont fully understand.
And the toilets are certainly foreign, often just the squat hole, with no paper and just a bucket and ladle beside it. The more modern ones might have a hose, and thankfully most hotels we've stayed in offer western style toilets and paper to accompany them. Haggling over prices is nonstop, fun at first then tiring- probably for the locals as well as us foreigners. The moto thing is also insane- Hanoi is a city of 3 million people and 4 million motos, which is odd considering that they carry anything on them, giant sacks of rice, piles of bricks, twenty foot lengths of gutter pipe and up to six people families, the kids just clamber on like its nothing. Oh, and while talking on their cell phones. Certainly none of our fear, and they are well trained not to burn themselves on the exhaust, unlike almost every westerner here who has a telltale bandage on their right ankle.
I think I've done a decent job describing the food- generally phenomenal, and extremely fresh ingredients, herbs not spices, etc. though I havent described the coffee, which is also delicious when not too sweet. They deliver to your table a small cup with a tablesppon or two of condensed milk in the bottom, and then an aluminum contraption that drips an espresso-like (and sized) viscous and very strong coffee into the milk. Stir it up and you've got vietnamese coffee, and perhaps pour it over ice and its incredible. I suppose its basically the same as thai iced coffee, but here it only costs a quarter. (coffee-with-cream color incidentally, is the exact color of the mekong river) Advice to travellers getting sick of Asian food- every attempt at western food we've encountered has generally sucked (with the exception of french), but the two indian meals we've had have been excellent. And the french food- pastries in particular, have been improving the further north we get in Vietnam and helping us regain some of the weight we lost in Cambodia. The food is better in the south though, and seems to always be best in the dirtier resturants, preferably those with plastic lawn chairs, metal tables and dozens of vietnamese sitting around smoking.
Most people in the south seem surprisingly friendly towards americans, and all have impressive English language skills. Both tour tour guide and one hotel owner were translaters for americans during the war, and very open to talk about the war, their expereinces and how much they missed their american friends. Amazing considering they also spent years in reeducation camps following the fall of Saigon, which they described in surprisingly matter-of-fact terms. The people still drive american (in the south) and soviet (in the north) jeeps and trucks around, we even saw a crane that said "US Army" on it constructing a building on the side of the road. They, like everyone else we meet, are constantly remarking on how thin we are for americans. Some utch we met actually asked us if we had trouble buying clothes in America because all americans are so fat.
Our last day in Hanoi we tried to go see Uncle Ho's embalmed corpse laying in state, but unfortunately he was not taking visitors after eleven AM, so we'll just have to return to see him again some other time. Wandered around in the sweltering heat for a while lost, found a nice park full of vietnamese couples getting their wedding photos taken, and took it easy for the rest of the afternoon. Did have a decent lunch near the military museum, and an excellent dinner. We ate at "fried fish" where the menu is "friend fish" and nothing else- but a charcoal brazier is brought to your table with burning embers a bit too close to my face, and sizzling oil frying up, well, pieces of fish. They dump some dill in and then you mix it up with an assortmnent of noodles, shallots, peanuts, mint and a few other garnishes they leave you. Thankfully, it was another instance of plastic chairs and mostly vietnamese people eating there, and they were real experts at their one dish.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Hanoi - Ha Long Bay
We made the decision to save money and overnight bus up to Hanoi, which was supposed to take 12-14 hours, and took about 18 or 20. The busride from hell was wretchedly uncomfortable, and then stopped for hours in the middle of the night with no explanation for the first two of the hours, until we finally heard that a train had crashed, the upside of which was we hadnt taken the train because it was sold out. Still, it was highly unpleasant and uncomfortable voyage to Hanoi. They also shut the bus and AC off in the night, leaving us to the mercy of jungle heat and bugs. At least no one was shooting americans like they were thirty years ago. Our drivers were also about 15 years old, and though I was relieved to see them chugging red bulls at dinner, I cant say I wasnt a bit disturbed to see them drinking Saigon Lager with the same relish as they finished up their meals.
No matter, we made it to Hanoi in one piece physically if not mentally. Hanoi itself is truly charming, unlike Saigon or Phnom Penh. The streets are narrow and cute, there are lakes everywhere, the French quarter actually feels charming and French. We did an extensive amount of walking until a crazy monsoon struck, around the old quarter where the same shops have made and sold the same goods for five hundred years. We also saw a water puppet performance, which was a lot more impressive than I expected, though they obviously did not get the memo about not lighting fireworks inside crowded theaters. I suppose it was a water stage but still.
Yesterday we took a tour out to Ha Long bay, which is the bay of giant crazy islands that probably comes to your mind when you think of "asia" and "ocean". The trip out was beautiful, more rice paddies which I am obsessed with taking the perfect picture of, and dozens of garment factories sprouting of them along with giant limestone outcroppings. Ha Long is another place, much like Angkor, that words cant do justice to. Giant solid rock islands coming out of the fog, floating fishing villages, kayaking through limestone caves with blue water, incredible sunsets, everything you could imagine. Our boat, though beautiful old teak Sampan with red sails, had miserable food and rather cramped sleeping quarters that we shared with rats and roaches. (Although I kept my obersations from Olivia until this morning) Sometimes "adventure" is great when youre travelling, other times you remember that "adventure" and "off the beaten path" means rats, terrible food, stomach ailments, bugbites the size of eggs, etc. But- it was beautiful and I can bore you to tears with all those pictures later.
Same-Same But Different
We got onto thereunification express train to Hue, which was utterly filthy. I noticed the people in front of us were just spitting their watermelon seeds onto the floor. A few minutes later, everyone was throwing their garbage onto the floor, and we realized that they just hurled their trash on the floor, and soon someone came to sweep it all up. Not exactly up, because they then just swept it out the door of the moving train.
Hue itself was a bit of a disappointment. The imperial city is certainly grand- Vietnam being a more chinese culture, the emperors who ruled from Hue for hundreds of years built a miniature version of the chinese forbidden city here, and left behind enormous mausoleums as well. The city has multiple concentric walls and incredible moats of lotus blossoms, yet sadly much of the city was destroyed during the tet offensive in 1968 when it was occupied by the VC and pounded with american artillery. There are still bulletholes in the ancient ramparts, and I even found a rusted bullet shell laying on the ground. Thankfully, there is some rebuilding effort underway, but the whole thing was almost completely razed by warfare. We ate lunch at a restaurant run by deaf mute family, another amusing effect of tourism on these types of economies is that as soon as lonely planet or someone writes up a place, all the other places on the street take the same name and menu. This place went as far as a block of restaurants with all the employees pretending to be deaf-mutes.
Currently reading :
The Honourable Schoolboy
By John le Carre
This is actually the brand name of the cigarettes in Vietnam. Tempting, isnt it? Anyway, here are a few disjointed, rambling observations about Vietnamese culture...
The culture, in spite of all the english speaking and fancier cell phones than we have, is still very foreign. The women wash the restaurant dishes in the streets and tend the shops and hotels while the men tinker with their motorbikes and occasionally do real work. The men also have inch long thumb and pinkie nails, for what purpose I have no idea. Women also seem to be always doing some strange calisthenics in the insanely -topiaried parks at night (the regulated economy gotta employ everybody here), while the men play badminton constantly on any street or sidewalk they can find. The men and women also seem never to interact, and the women seem to work, so the men can "study" though they are mostly seen lounging around on their motos. I even see them sleep on the motos! Women actually wear the conical straw hats, and here in Hanoi anyway, the men all wear green pith helmets to complement their various bootlegged designer gear (plyboy, abercrombie and finch, crocodile, etc. My personal favorite are the items like backpacks that are both nike AND north face). Everyone actually spends their time squatting, even the infants seem to learn how to squat before they can stand or walk. We also must be near a bag factory because everywhere you look there are Ikea bags, and I have yet to see any ikea furniture anywhere. The buddhism is less apparent than in Thailand and Cambodia, almost no monks, though I did see a few- one even wearing the brown robes and wool hat that is recognizable in well-known monks like Thich Nhat Hanh. They practice Mahayana, not Theravada Buddhism, which might just be more subtle outwardly than the wear it on their sleeve religiousity of the other countries, though they still all have shrines inside their houses. Apparently all the religions, Catholic, Muslim, Cao Dai and Buddhist here engage in ancestor worship of some sort which I dont fully understand.
And the toilets are certainly foreign, often just the squat hole, with no paper and just a bucket and ladle beside it. The more modern ones might have a hose, and thankfully most hotels we've stayed in offer western style toilets and paper to accompany them. Haggling over prices is nonstop, fun at first then tiring- probably for the locals as well as us foreigners. The moto thing is also insane- Hanoi is a city of 3 million people and 4 million motos, which is odd considering that they carry anything on them, giant sacks of rice, piles of bricks, twenty foot lengths of gutter pipe and up to six people families, the kids just clamber on like its nothing. Oh, and while talking on their cell phones. Certainly none of our fear, and they are well trained not to burn themselves on the exhaust, unlike almost every westerner here who has a telltale bandage on their right ankle.
I think I've done a decent job describing the food- generally phenomenal, and extremely fresh ingredients, herbs not spices, etc. though I havent described the coffee, which is also delicious when not too sweet. They deliver to your table a small cup with a tablesppon or two of condensed milk in the bottom, and then an aluminum contraption that drips an espresso-like (and sized) viscous and very strong coffee into the milk. Stir it up and you've got vietnamese coffee, and perhaps pour it over ice and its incredible. I suppose its basically the same as thai iced coffee, but here it only costs a quarter. (coffee-with-cream color incidentally, is the exact color of the mekong river) Advice to travellers getting sick of Asian food- every attempt at western food we've encountered has generally sucked (with the exception of french), but the two indian meals we've had have been excellent. And the french food- pastries in particular, have been improving the further north we get in Vietnam and helping us regain some of the weight we lost in Cambodia. The food is better in the south though, and seems to always be best in the dirtier resturants, preferably those with plastic lawn chairs, metal tables and dozens of vietnamese sitting around smoking.
Most people in the south seem surprisingly friendly towards americans, and all have impressive English language skills. Both tour tour guide and one hotel owner were translaters for americans during the war, and very open to talk about the war, their expereinces and how much they missed their american friends. Amazing considering they also spent years in reeducation camps following the fall of Saigon, which they described in surprisingly matter-of-fact terms. The people still drive american (in the south) and soviet (in the north) jeeps and trucks around, we even saw a crane that said "US Army" on it constructing a building on the side of the road. They, like everyone else we meet, are constantly remarking on how thin we are for americans. Some utch we met actually asked us if we had trouble buying clothes in America because all americans are so fat.
Our last day in Hanoi we tried to go see Uncle Ho's embalmed corpse laying in state, but unfortunately he was not taking visitors after eleven AM, so we'll just have to return to see him again some other time. Wandered around in the sweltering heat for a while lost, found a nice park full of vietnamese couples getting their wedding photos taken, and took it easy for the rest of the afternoon. Did have a decent lunch near the military museum, and an excellent dinner. We ate at "fried fish" where the menu is "friend fish" and nothing else- but a charcoal brazier is brought to your table with burning embers a bit too close to my face, and sizzling oil frying up, well, pieces of fish. They dump some dill in and then you mix it up with an assortmnent of noodles, shallots, peanuts, mint and a few other garnishes they leave you. Thankfully, it was another instance of plastic chairs and mostly vietnamese people eating there, and they were real experts at their one dish.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Hanoi - Ha Long Bay
We made the decision to save money and overnight bus up to Hanoi, which was supposed to take 12-14 hours, and took about 18 or 20. The busride from hell was wretchedly uncomfortable, and then stopped for hours in the middle of the night with no explanation for the first two of the hours, until we finally heard that a train had crashed, the upside of which was we hadnt taken the train because it was sold out. Still, it was highly unpleasant and uncomfortable voyage to Hanoi. They also shut the bus and AC off in the night, leaving us to the mercy of jungle heat and bugs. At least no one was shooting americans like they were thirty years ago. Our drivers were also about 15 years old, and though I was relieved to see them chugging red bulls at dinner, I cant say I wasnt a bit disturbed to see them drinking Saigon Lager with the same relish as they finished up their meals.
No matter, we made it to Hanoi in one piece physically if not mentally. Hanoi itself is truly charming, unlike Saigon or Phnom Penh. The streets are narrow and cute, there are lakes everywhere, the French quarter actually feels charming and French. We did an extensive amount of walking until a crazy monsoon struck, around the old quarter where the same shops have made and sold the same goods for five hundred years. We also saw a water puppet performance, which was a lot more impressive than I expected, though they obviously did not get the memo about not lighting fireworks inside crowded theaters. I suppose it was a water stage but still.
Yesterday we took a tour out to Ha Long bay, which is the bay of giant crazy islands that probably comes to your mind when you think of "asia" and "ocean". The trip out was beautiful, more rice paddies which I am obsessed with taking the perfect picture of, and dozens of garment factories sprouting of them along with giant limestone outcroppings. Ha Long is another place, much like Angkor, that words cant do justice to. Giant solid rock islands coming out of the fog, floating fishing villages, kayaking through limestone caves with blue water, incredible sunsets, everything you could imagine. Our boat, though beautiful old teak Sampan with red sails, had miserable food and rather cramped sleeping quarters that we shared with rats and roaches. (Although I kept my obersations from Olivia until this morning) Sometimes "adventure" is great when youre travelling, other times you remember that "adventure" and "off the beaten path" means rats, terrible food, stomach ailments, bugbites the size of eggs, etc. But- it was beautiful and I can bore you to tears with all those pictures later.
Same-Same But Different
We got onto thereunification express train to Hue, which was utterly filthy. I noticed the people in front of us were just spitting their watermelon seeds onto the floor. A few minutes later, everyone was throwing their garbage onto the floor, and we realized that they just hurled their trash on the floor, and soon someone came to sweep it all up. Not exactly up, because they then just swept it out the door of the moving train.
Hue itself was a bit of a disappointment. The imperial city is certainly grand- Vietnam being a more chinese culture, the emperors who ruled from Hue for hundreds of years built a miniature version of the chinese forbidden city here, and left behind enormous mausoleums as well. The city has multiple concentric walls and incredible moats of lotus blossoms, yet sadly much of the city was destroyed during the tet offensive in 1968 when it was occupied by the VC and pounded with american artillery. There are still bulletholes in the ancient ramparts, and I even found a rusted bullet shell laying on the ground. Thankfully, there is some rebuilding effort underway, but the whole thing was almost completely razed by warfare. We ate lunch at a restaurant run by deaf mute family, another amusing effect of tourism on these types of economies is that as soon as lonely planet or someone writes up a place, all the other places on the street take the same name and menu. This place went as far as a block of restaurants with all the employees pretending to be deaf-mutes.
Currently reading :
The Honourable Schoolboy
By John le Carre
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